That morning, warm sunlight slipped through the curtains of Al’s room.
Sunday. The only day he could sleep in, pull the blanket up until noon, and indulge in that rare mont known as "sleeping for no reason."
But this morning was different.
Knock knock knock...
A soft knock at the door made him grimace.
Before he could pretend not to hear it, a servant’s voice followed.
"Young Master Al, you are requested to co to the dining room. Today... you’re allowed to have breakfast with the family."
The words sounded strange to his ears. Allowed?
Like a child who’d just leveled up.
But he didn’t respond—just muttered softly and slowly got up.
His expression remained blank as usual, but his mind raced: What’s going on today?
When he stepped into the main dining hall—a large room with a long table draped in white linen and a chandelier overhead—everyone was already there.
He saw his father and mother seated at the ends of the table.
David was on the right side, wearing his usual small, polite smile.
Aurielle and Sarah were chatting quietly with each other.
On the other side, two of his other sisters—ones he had only seen in photos—were also present.
Vianna, usually away training or competing in martial arts tournants, now sat calmly.
And Lysha, the sixth sister, wore casual yet neat attire.
But the most eye-catching figure was a young woman seated beside David.
She smiled sweetly and occasionally gazed at him with admiration, like a sunflower turning toward the sun.
Al narrowed his eyes.
Could she be... another switched child? he wondered.
But before he could ask or sit, his mother, Sandra, broke the silence:
"Al, co here. Stand up. We’d like to introduce soone to you."
He obeyed, stepping to the end of the table.
All eyes turned to him, though each with different expressions—so blank, so observant, others clearly waiting for sothing.
A reaction, perhaps? Surprise? Interest?
"This is Nayala," his mother continued.
"The daughter of the Valendra family from Vali Island. You surely know her—she’s a capital city celebrity, just like your sister."
Nayala Valendera—daughter of the fad Valendra family, known as the tourism heart of Vali Island, and especially known for its won with famously graceful figures. She was a year older than Al. A solid B in beauty.
Al glanced at her.
Long black hair, smooth sun-kissed skin, curves like a painting. Her face... indeed beautiful. But too perfect to be interesting. Too... polished. And that made him uneasy.
"She was once betrothed to you," his father, Edward, added while sipping coffee.
"But given the current situation... we think it’s ti you know that Nayala has... fallen in love with David."
Nayala gave a polite smile, though her eyes clearly showed no interest in Al. Almost to the point of rudeness.
"Nice to et you, Al. I’ve already heard everything. But don’t worry... I’ll still be with David, no matter what. I... love him."
Al didn’t smile at her childish declaration. He simply nodded.
No surprise. No jealousy. No defensiveness.
And that confused everyone at the table.
They probably thought Al would be struck by her beauty.
With her sensual, ideal figure typical of Vali won—part of why Vali Island was a top tourist destination in Indorosia—Nayala was indeed a B-tier beauty. But that was just to normal eyes.
Al didn’t asure beauty by looks or curves.
To him, Nayala was just another pawn on the family’s chessboard.
He spoke briefly.
"Ah yes, nice to et you too, Nala—uh, I an... Nanala... mmm... Narala?"
Silence followed. Only the clinking of cutlery against plates was heard.
Then Vianna chuckled.
"Haha... her na is Nayala. Rember: Na-ya-la."
"What a weirdo. Seems like you’re not into Nayala," Lysha added while chewing toast.
"But maybe that’s not such a bad thing."
David kept smiling. But in his eyes, a flicker of sothing unreadable appeared.
Nayala, on the other hand, looked slightly irritated that her entrance hadn’t earned the reaction she expected. She flirted with David a bit, trying to show everyone that her heart was already spoken for.
But Al didn’t care.
He sat down when asked, grabbed a glass of water, and stared blankly at the wall.
The dining room felt warm—but not welcoming to Al.
Warm because of the small talk and chuckles, but unwelcoming because every conversation seed like a silent arrow shot in his direction.
"Oh, right," said his mother, Sandra, with a thin smile.
"Al, Nayala will be staying with us for the next week."
Al raised an eyebrow—not out of surprise, but out of... why even tell this?
"Next week, her parents will visit. We’ll discuss the official annulnt of your engagent—sothing we’ve already agreed on. Don’t tell you’re reconsidering after seeing her?" Edward said calmly, like he was discussing a business schedule.
Sarah leaned forward, resting her chin on her hand. Her gaze was sharp.
"I’ll roast you if you go back on your word. So Al, don’t bother Nayala. Don’t even think of anything funny. Got it?!"
Al didn’t respond. Not even a glance.
He just sipped his water slowly. But in his silence, a thought rang out: I’m not interested.
Nayala kept smiling like all of this was completely normal.
Her face glowed—not from makeup, but from how close she was to David, the man she gazed at like a never-ending high school love story.
"I ca early because... I missed David too much," she said innocently.
"Especially after everything that’s happened. I just wanted to make sure he’s okay."
Vianna leaned back in her chair, arms crossed. She smirked.
"Classic you, Nayala. But yeah... that’s always been your thing."
Lysha, who went to the sa university as Nayala, chid in.
"All the professors call her a ’living model’ of aesthetics and performance. Her grades are average at best. And when asked about her goals, she always says David’s na, haha."
Everyone laughed softly—including Nayala. Not offended. If anything, she looked proud.
Sarah added with a mocking tone.
"Sa thing when she was still in the agency. She used to tag along with during photo shoots. Tons of guys hit on her, but she always said her heart belonged to David, hahaha. You’re that obsessed, huh?"
"Mmm... Hope soone isn’t getting the wrong idea," Sarah added, half-whispering but clearly directed at Al.
"Because Nayala belongs to David. Always will."
It was like an invisible wall had ford around Al.
Everyone spoke of Nayala as if she was already David’s.
And he—the one still technically engaged to her—had no voice in the matter.
But that was fine. Al wasn’t angry.
He wasn’t upset.
He was just... observing.
Watching everything unfold. Storing it in mory.
Not as a hurt person, but as an irrelevant spectator in this social ring.
Vianna nodded at Nayala.
"You’re lucky. I’ll be ho all week since my martial arts tournant just ended. If anyone bothers you—especially him—I’ll take care of it."
Al glanced at her. Is she talking about ? he wondered.
Vianna just grinned and leaned back in her chair.
Aurielle didn’t say much. She kept checking her phone and the ti.
As Vice Chairman and CEO of the company, she only stayed ho due to work constraints.
But Al knew—everyone here today, even those usually too busy, were summoned for one reason:
To deliver a clear ssage:
"Nayala belongs to David. Don’t even try."
And they all wanted to see if Al would react.
If he would show heartbreak, jealousy, anger, or sadness.
Unfortunately for them, Al didn’t care.
His eyes were more drawn to the good food in front of him than to the curvy beauty sitting across from him.
"Seems like I’m no longer needed here. May I leave?" he asked after finishing his drink.
"Go ahead," Aurielle finally replied.
"The main event is over."
Al rose and left the table. His steps were calm, posture upright.
Everyone watched to see if he’d do sothing when passing by David and Nayala.
But... nothing. Only sharp indifference.
Nayala stared at his back, slightly confused.
Why didn’t he... look at at all? It’s like I don’t exist to him.
David smiled, placing his hand gently over Nayala’s.
"Don’t mind him. Maybe he just doesn’t feel confident standing next to soone as beautiful as you."
Nayala blushed at David’s words.
But sothing still felt... off.
anwhile, Lysha—seeing Al for the first ti that day—quietly stared at the empty seat he left behind.
Al... you don’t seem anything like the stories I’ve heard about you.
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