In the entrance hall of the manor stands a mustached man dressed in a simple coat and a bowler hat, his name was Arthur.

  Upon noticing me, uncle Arthur waved at me.

  “Isn’t this my cute nephew? Come give me a hug.”

  I rushed toward his arms, people nearby all felt warmth from this wholesome scene.

  “Oh, darling, don’t encourage a little boy to run, what if he falls?”

  His wife, Guinevere, said with concern. She was in a simple dress with a regency bonnet covering her head.

  Her name, unusual for someone of Altwinian origin. But I suppose since most members of our family were conveniently named after characters in the Arthurian legend, this was not a big problem at all.

  “Don’t worry, Guin, he’s not that weak.”

  She shake her head.

  Arthur was an owner of a firearm company and an essential goods distributor in the North Altwin Federation. During the Altwin Civil War a few years ago, he made a fortune supporting the loyalists. And after the war ended, he stayed behind and started a family, currently a father of a daughter and a son.

  “Did you miss me, kiddo? I crossed the Vastia Ocean all the way here to Engla to see you.”

  I smiled and asked.

  “Have you brought any interesting stories?”

  He laughed.

  “Haha, children like you always ask their elders for stories about exotic land. Someday, you should come and visit us, there are amazing things that Europa could not offer.”

  “I will! Uncle! Once I am old enough to travel on my own!”

  “That’s the spirit.”

  In fact, I do plan to visit the Federation some time after 12 when I have the time for it. After all, I was curious about what the knockoff version of the United States looked like to temporarily alleviate my curse of eternal boredom.

  Why 12? You might ask, it’s because there’s a superstition that children below the age of 12 were more susceptible to sickness and death on long journeys. After all, diseases like malaria, tuberculosis, typhoid and smallpox are still the major cause of death in this world

  Eventually, I escaped from the grasp of my uncle and joined Sola and Luna who were standing aside. Though they were trying to act professional, they couldn’t help but tease me a little.

  Now face to face with them, they are much different from when we adopted them. Their golden hair gleamed brightly, and their golden eyes paired perfectly with it. Their golden appearances gave off a holy and celestial aura.

  Their once malnourished bodies were now healthy.

  Most people looking at them would all assume that they would become beauties when they have grown up, but beauties don’t spark my interest.

  I understand why men were enamored to pretty girls. To me though, a girl was just a girl, even if they’re the most beautiful creatures to have existed, they’d still fail to rekindle the dead fire inside me.

  I gave the twins an awkward smile in response to their playful giggles.

  Then I turn around to see the head of the house coming out to greet him. Following behind him was Borse and Galahad, both of them are currently trying their best not to start an argument in front of the guest.

  “How are you doing? Brother Kay?” Arthur extended his arm.

  “Great, how are your children doing?” Then Arthur gave Kay a hug, slapping him in the back.

  It’s a gesture not commonly found in this kingdom, but popular amongst commoners of the Federation.

  “They’re doing fine, we left them back in the States because they’re too young to travel, plus, it’s just a short visit.” Arthur then released Rowan from his arms.

  “That was unfortunate, I would surely love to see the face of my two nephews.”

  “You will, someday.”

  Then, Rowan proceeded to greet Veronica, while Arthur glanced behind Rowan’s back.

  “And here are my other two nephews!” He locked on to my two brothers

  “Care to give your uncle a hug just like before?”

  Arthur wasn’t nicknamed a hugger for no reason. Though, hugging wasn’t considered a formal gesture amongst the upper class.

  Borse simply reached out his hand. Arthur shaked it with a teasing smile.

  “I remembered back when I was your age I used to hate hugging.”

  “What made you change then, Uncle Arthur?”

  Borse asked curiously. Arthur looked afar, seemingly in a thousand thoughts.

  “Many things, you will understand it once you’ve grown old and people around you started passing away.”

  He then reached his hand to Galahad.

  Galahad hesitated, then he did a formal bow. Arthur acknowledged his noble way of greeting with a nod and tipped his bowler hat.

  Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  After all, it was his style to be an informal man.

  “So much like your father, he also became quite a noble mannered man when he was at your age, unlike me who found etiquette to be burdensome.”

  Then, we departed to the dining hall, my Mother was already waiting inside. She nodded to Arthur and his wife when we entered.

  “Good day, Ms. Larwin.”

  Arthur greeted my Mother. She has a commoner background, and there were noble customs foreboding her to become an official spouse.

  My Father tried his best to elevate her as a consort, against the disapproval of other noble families. However, it was my Mother who told him that she was comfortable in the position of concubine.

  With greetings exchanged, we each moved to our designated seat. I was seated with my two brothers. While my Mother was sitting adjacent to my Father, normally, such a position would never be afforded to a commoner, especially one next to the Head of House. But since Arthur wasn’t the kind of person to judge, it was fine for her to sit there today.

  The maid gently turned on the manaphone, a device resembling a gramophone, but instead of using a vinyl record, it used magic sealed inside a tube shaped mana stone to replay captured sound.

  The gentle strains of classical music signalled the beginning of this feast.

  Our country had suffered a horrible reputation for cuisines, that’s why since ancient times our nobles have been copying our Southern neighbor, république proculaise, in dining. Meals were served in seven different courses: l’apéritif, l’entrée, poisson, plat principal, salade, fromage et dessert.

  “Monsieur, would you like some wine?”

  As the appetizers were served, the English wine steward spoke, but with a fake Proculian accent. A behavior that somehow managed to irk me. Intruding my usual shallow emotion with annoyance.

  But, I managed to keep it from showing on my expression and continued with the appetizer.

  Another rule that was different from ours was that children could not drink alcohol before reaching the age of 18, it’s a social norm without any reason whatsoever.

  “So, I heard you two little rascals have been fighting a lot.”

  And there was a brief pause in everyone’s movement. All of their silent complaints were all asking Arthur to ‘Read the Atmosphere’. But of course, he didn’t care about it and pressed on.

  “I believe that I will make a better Lord than him.”

  Galahad answered calmly.

  “My little brother has some,” A look of annoyance crept up Bors’ face “rather interesting belief that provoking me and making me act irrationally would somehow make him look better. Recently, I have been trying to ignore him.”

  “Ah! The contest to become heir, such a cliche yet intriguing story. Is it only between you two?” Arthur said, his interest piqued

  “Of course.”

  Borse said.

  “But from my perspective” He continued “Percival is also competing against you two.”

  “Him?” Galahad scoffed, shaking his head in a dismissive laugh “All he has done is pick flowers and struggle with books that are way above his level.”

  “For our Father’s sake, could you at least be polite to our little brother?” Borse shot back, defending me protectively.

  I didn't bother engaging. The course had continued, and for the fish (poisson) stage it was roasted salmon. I dug in, letting their conversation wash over me as I focused on the meal.

  “Why should I be polite with a sissy man who goes around having tea parties and adopting girls as retainers, instead of dueling and horse riding like a real man?”

  I was surprised Galahad didn’t poke fun at my Bastard heritage, perhaps Father’s teaching has been engraved into his mind. However, I should react accordingly.

  I dropped my fork, and my head shot up.

  “Bi- Big Brother, you don’t think I am a real man…?”

  My voice was shaking, with tears building up in my eyes.

  “You’re a sissy girl, Percival.”

  “GALAHAD!” Father shouted in anger.

  I got up from the chair, and rushed outside.

  Sola and Luna immediately ran after me.

  “I told you he was a softie.”

  Galahad’s word slipped out before he got a slap from Bors.

  The dine abruptly ended in the middle as no one had any appetite to eat.

  Bedivere was now standing outside Lord Camelot’s office, listening to the scolding session inside.

  He understood the reason for Galahad's outburst, by making other people look incompetent, he could show that he was more strong willed than them, albeit it was a childish and stupid way of getting approvals from adults.

  To be honest, he didn’t expect Percival to suddenly begin crying after such a petty insult. He thought Percival was more mature than that. But then again, he was just 8, perhaps he was expecting too much from him.

  Mr. Sigurd walked toward Percival’s room.

  Outside, the twins were comforting him, but Percival locked himself behind the door. Not wanting to interrupt, but curioused, he stayed in the corner to eavesdrop on their conversation.

  “I always looked up to him like a Big Brother…”

  Percival said with a sobbing voice.

  “He’s the one I trusted the most.” After a brief pause, he said. “Yet my heart hurt when I heard his insults.”

  Bedivere sympathized with him, now he understood why. He too would’ve felt betrayed if someone who he trusted suddenly began insulting him. Percival was mature and smart, that doesn’t mean his 8 year old mind could stand against the feeling of betrayal.

  His thoughts were all shared by the staff of the house.

  The next day, I went to the garden and picked some flowers to make a flower bundle.

  Then I went to the main building and knocked on the door to Galahad’s room.

  It was the maid standing inside who opened the door, I walked in.

  The room was fancy by modern standard, though by the standard of nobility it was simple.

  Galahad was reading a book on his working desk. Upon hearing my footsteps, he shoved a piece of paper as a bookmark and closed the book to face me.

  His expression was visually unpleasant. After yesterday’s incident, he was grounded for a week.

  “Big brother, I have brought a gift to settle our dispute.”

  I showed him the flower bundle that I had hidden behind me.

  “It’s a bundle of lavender, they are a symbol of peace”

  I smiled naively.

  The best course of action for him would be to take it and accept my forgiveness. However, for someone who was only 11, being forgiven by who you have insulted would feel more like a mockery than a peace offering.

  “Is that all you have to say?”

  Galahad said coldly.

  “Get out of my room, don’t let me see your face again.”

  “Big brother?”

  “Get out!”

  My face was now expressing sorrow. There’s nothing else for me to do.

  I left the room.

  From that day on, Percival became the little brother that everyone always cared for and loved out of empathy.