Emily rushed home as dusk faded into evening. She pushed the gate open, hurried to the door, and stepped inside. After a few steps, she caught the scent of tea. "Jim, are you making tea? Could you make some for me too?"

  She walked further and glanced into the living room from the doorway—not yet entering—and froze.

  Five strangers were inside her house. The fifth was Eisen, who had joined the others. Her eyes swept over them, and she flustered, letting out a hushed, strained sound.

  Behind her, Jim appeared with a teacup. "Here, your share."

  Emily grabbed him, pulling him aside. "Who are they?"

  Jim answered flatly, "Our cousins. The ones you’ve been waiting for so much."

  Emily whispered in a panic, "Oh my god, I didn’t know they were coming today! I didn’t prepare anything—what do I do, what do I do?"

  Jim just watched her, unmoved.

  "Did you offer tea? Oh, you did—did you? Did you give anything with it? No? You offered this normal tea—it tastes so bad! You should’ve used the other one I bought!"

  Jim retorted, "I didn’t know where that was. This is the second refill of tea, so they must have liked it. And the way they drink tea—if I’d given biscuits, they would’ve emptied the whole cookie jar. We can’t afford that."

  "Don’t talk like that! Anyway, I must prepare dinner right now—no, I don’t have any good ingredients. I must go buy some. There are five guests—they must be thinking our hospitality is terrible! I should buy cake, too—"

  Jim cut in, "There’s no need for cake or special ingredients. Just serve them soup. And before you run off—how about greeting them first? They’ve been waiting for you."

  "Oh! I completely forgot that, too! Damn, they must think I’m so weird—I didn’t even look at them properly, I screamed and ran off. How disrespectful! Is greeting them in these clothes okay? Maybe I should change—no, delaying would be worse."

  Meanwhile, in the living room

  Eisen remarked quietly, "They know this is a small house, right? We can hear everything crystal clear."

  Finn replied dryly, "Doesn’t look like they do."

  Lucien had already recognized the voice.

  So it’s that girl. How amusing.

  A faint, laughter-like smile touched his lips.

  Ultimare noted, "Finding this funny, huh?"

  Lucien answered calmly, "No, it’s something else. You’ll know soon."

  Pelta spoke up, "Brother, I must handle a matter in the estate. I’ll cut my connection here for some time. Please take care of this vessel."

  Lucien nodded. "Take your time. You were already pushing yourself to maintain this clone for so long while also working at the main estate."

  Ultimare smiled. "If you hadn’t reminded me about the clone, I’d have totally forgotten. This feels so real."

  Pelta’s eyes closed as she powered down. Her head rested against Ultimare’s shoulder.

  He gently shifted her, placing her against the soft side of a pillow near Lucien, draped his coat over her, and moved to sit in another chair.

  Jim gave Emily a gentle push into the living room, though she had already regained her composure. She entered with a grace beyond words, bowing deeply, her movements flowing like a sonnet.

  "Greetings to all of you," she began, her voice a melody of practiced nobility. "I welcome you to my humble abode. It is a pleasure to have you—I cannot express how happy I am." She rose, her hair as white as moonlight, her posture flawless, her presence unexpectedly luminous in the modest room. "Please forgive any mistakes of me and my family, for you are greater and wiser."

  Lucien’s voice cut through the living room, calm but firm. "Raise your head. Look this way, and drop the formality. We belong to one family. There is no need to distance yourself so much."

  Even before she looked up, his words settled deep within her, a strange warm comfort she couldn’t quite name. She clung to them, wanting to believe their sincerity.

  Then she lifted her gaze, and the world tilted once more.

  It was Lucien Sinclair, the man she had guided through the shops This afternoon. He watched her now with a trace of amusement in his cool eyes.

  What in the world… What is he doing here? No—he was the one speaking. Does that mean… he is my cousin? We’re family? Then… all afternoon, I was shamelessly picking out gifts… for myself? No, that can’t be. He must have been buying for someone else. Unless… did he know? Did he recognize me? What is happening? This is bad. I acted so strangely with him—how embarrassing!

  A blush bloomed across her cheeks. In a slightly unsteady voice, she asked, "Did… did you know who I was when we met in the shop?"

  Lucien’s lips curved faintly. "No, I did not. Don’t worry—I was just as surprised as you. To think I received aid from the very person I was buying gifts for. How… convenient."

  Finn’s head snapped toward Lucien. "Wait—what? You took her help? What do you mean?"

  "Just what you heard," Lucien replied smoothly. "Though it was accidental."

  "Accidental or not, that’s unfair," Finn retorted, a mock scowl forming.

  Ultimare chuckled softly. "I believe that calls for negative marking."

  "Negative marking?" Finn scoffed playfully. "This calls for disqualification!"

  So I really was choosing my own gifts… Emily thought, how utterly mortifying. Her embarrassment deepening.

  For a moment, she stood frozen, the center of an attention she hadn’t asked for.

  Jim nudged her gently. "Hey, don’t embarrass us like this. They’re waiting."

  Emily took a quiet breath, the fluster receding as an innate poise resurfaced. She was about to bow again when Lucien’s voice stopped her, softer this time, yet still a command.

  "I said, drop the formality."

  "Surely," she replied, her voice steadier now.

  Finn immediately rose and offered his seat. She hesitated. "No, please keep sitting. It’s no issue."

  "The fact that you’re standing here while I sit, is an issue for me." Finn insisted smoothly.

  Just then, Jim returned with two chairs from the dining room. Finn took one immediately. "I’m sitting here. Please, take that one." Emily accepted gracefully, and Eisen took the remaining seat.

  In that simple exchange, surrounded by these powerful, enigmatic relatives, Emily did not shrink.

  She sat with a quiet dignity that seemed to brighten the room

  Emily smiled, with calm and confident voice. "Pardon my manners. I haven't even introduced myself properly. I am Emily Sinclair, eldest daughter of Finton Sinclair."

  All eyes turned to Lucien, as if awaiting his response. He met her gaze, his voice soft yet carrying undeniable authority. "I am Lucien Sinclair, fourth son of Diego Sinclair, and the current head of the Sinclair family."

  Jim stiffened slightly at the declaration—the way Lucien named himself head of the whole family, as if their branch held no separate standing.

  But there was little he could do against words that sent involuntary chills down his spine. Emily, however, didn’t seem to mind. She noticed, yes, but she genuinely held no attachment to such titles.

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  Her gaze shifted to the elegant man beside Lucien. "I am Ultimare Sinclair, fifth son of Diego Sinclair," he said, a warm charm in his tone. "I greet you wholeheartedly."

  Finn followed, his tone more formal but no less respectful. "I am Finn Sinclair, sixth son of Diego Sinclair. I, too, greet the lady of the house with utmost respect."

  Lucien gestured lightly toward Pelta’s resting form. "This is one of our youngest sisters, Pelta Sinclair. Do not mind her—she is merely tired."

  Emily’s expression softened instantly. "Oh, she is so cute! How adorable. Of course, I don’t mind. It must have been a long day. If she is the youngest… then she is my younger sister too, yes? I’ve always wanted one."

  Ultimare smiled. "Well, if we’re speaking of age order, Lucien is the eldest here, then me, then you, then Finn, then Pelta, and finally this young one, Jim."

  Emily’s eyes widened slightly as she looked at Finn. "Wait—he’s younger than me? He didn’t seem like it! Is that why you offered me your chair earlier? How thoughtful… how wonderful. I’ve gained a younger sister and another younger brother."

  Jim and Emily exchanged glances as they waited for Eisen’s introduction.

  Eisen took a slow sip of his tea, his expression unreadable. "Am I supposed to introduce myself as well?"

  Emily turned her gentle attention to him. "Why didn't you? Did you not feel welcome?"

  "I am not a part of your family," he stated flatly, the statement simple and stark.

  Finn waved a dismissive hand, not looking at him. "He's our chauffeur."

  Eisen's lips quirked in a faint, wry smile. "Well, that summarizes it well enough." He took another sip. "Do ask me freely if you need help of any kind."

  "What is your name?" Emily asked, her tone genuinely curious and kind.

  Eisen looked at her, his gaze lingering for a moment, as if assessing her sincerity. "Just Eisen," he said finally. "That's all." He took another deliberate sip of tea, effectively ending the conversation and retreating behind his wall.

  Emily leaned forward, her expression bright with genuine curiosity. “How big is your family? Please, tell me more about it,” she asked, then caught her own eagerness and added softly, “If you don’t mind.”

  Lucien replied calmly, “It is quite large. Currently, there are eleven of us siblings.”

  Emily’s eyes widened. “Eleven?”

  Ultimare nodded smoothly. “All of us are adopted, mind you. There were sixteen, but five met a tragic fate when they were very young, leaving the rest of us.”

  “How sad,” Emily murmured softly. “So… how many more siblings do I have?”

  “You have one elder brother, he is the eldest among us all. Two younger brothers, one of them is around Jim’s age, two elder sisters, another sister your age, and a younger sister, the baby of the family,” Ultimare explained.

  Emily’s face lit up with visible happiness and giddiness, her joy so open and sincere that Ultimare and Finn exchanged a brief, almost puzzled glance. They were not used to such a warm, unguarded reaction to their family’s complicated reality.

  “If only I could meet them someday—they all sound so wonderful. Please send them my regards,” Emily said warmly.

  Finn added practically, “You’ll likely meet at least the two younger brothers he mentioned in the future.”

  Then Emily asked gently, “And how is Uncle?”

  A subtle silence settled over the room.

  Finn answered quietly, “He passed two months ago. The mantle was passed to our brother.”

  Emily’s expression softened with sympathy. “Oh… I’m sorry.”

  Ultimare waved a hand gently. “No need to apologize. He was quite old and died of natural causes.” He shifted the subject smoothly. “So the two of you have lived here alone all this time?”

  “Yes,” Emily said. “It’s just been Jim and me since our father died six years ago.”

  Ultimare’s gaze was thoughtful. “Handling everything from such a young age… it must have been difficult.”

  Just then, Emily noticed the clock and gasped lightly. “Oh! It’s getting late—the market will close soon. I must buy ingredients and prepare dinner for everyone. Please excuse me—” She began to rise.

  Finn raised a hand gently. “Leave it. It’s late. We’ve already had tea—that’s more than enough.” He spoke as though their departure was certain.

  Emily’s face fell slightly. “Oh, no, it can’t be! This is your first day here—I want to treat you to something nice. And if you’re not full, how will you sleep well? Besides, Jim served the wrong tea—let me make up for it tomorrow.” She spoke as though she assumed they were staying.

  A silent exchange passed between Finn and Ultimare in the same room.

  Finn mentally: “Weren’t we leaving?”

  Ultimare replied mentally: “We were—we need to book a proper place. It’ll be a problem otherwise.”

  Finn: “Then tell her.”

  Ultimare: “I’m not doing it. Look how excited she is. Lucien’s the head—you handle it.”

  Both turned their gazes toward Lucien.

  Lucien spoke calmly. “It’s too late for shopping now. Just make whatever you can—nothing fancy is needed. If you still need groceries, I can send one of them. Let’s keep dinner simple tonight. We’ll taste your full hospitality another day—though this has been more than enough.” He paused. “We should go before it gets too late.”

  Emily’s face fell. Her earlier excitement vanished, replaced by visible disappointment, like a child whose dearest toy had been taken away. “Go where?” she asked, her voice soft and disheartened.

  Jim answered bluntly, “To their inn, obviously.” He flinched slightly as Emily shot him a sharp, delayed glare.

  Lucien cut in, his tone leaving no room for argument. “My mistake. I meant to say: go to bed. We need to rest. We’ve been traveling by carriage, and I believe everyone wishes to lie down.”

  He did not say this out of pity or a sense of obligation. The sight of her energy draining so abruptly was… something he did not want to see.

  It disrupted the equilibrium he preferred to maintain. Lucien was governed by duty, a framework where actions were weighed against their benefit to the lineage. Disappointing a younger sibling without a logical, strategic or just without any cause was an illogical breach of that duty.

  His initial assessment was complete. The data was clear: she presented no threat to the family's security. Furthermore, as the daughter of Diego's brother, a man Diego had held in high regard.

  She now qualified as a component of the Sinclair legacy. Therefore, her well-being fell under his jurisdiction. He protected what was his. It was that simple.

  Emily’s expression lifted as if she had been given new life. “You’re right—I didn’t think of that at all. You all must be exhausted.”

  Finn mentally: “What?”

  Lucien replied mentally, tone firm: “Quiet. You have no booking, and searching the city this late is a hassle regardless.”

  Finn conceded: “Fine. I’ll manage. The house does look clean, at least.”

  Eisen set down his empty cup. "Should I go buy some groceries for the miss?" he asked, his eyes shifting to Lucien for approval.

  Lucien gave a slight nod. "Go ahead."

  A lazy, almost mischievous smile touched Eisen’s lips. "Can I take the carriage? It’ll be fun."

  "Take it."

  Finn cut in immediately, his tone practical. "No. We still haven’t unloaded everything from it."

  Emily’s eyes widened in concern. "You haven’t brought in your luggage yet? Should we help? Oh, but you’re all tired… Let’s do it tomorrow. I’ll clean a few more rooms, and you can all settle in properly."

  Wait, now we’re staying for more than one day? Finn thought, a flicker of exasperation crossing his mind. She’s such a pushy character. To think someone like her could exist… Well, it’s Sinclair heritage, I suppose. Nobody in this family can be normal.

  Eisen was already moving toward the door. "I’m taking cash from the carriage. Is that alright?" he called back.

  Emily immediately tried to offer her own money, but Lucien simply waved a hand, dismissing her attempt. Eisen slipped out without another word.

  Ultimare glanced at Pelta, still resting peacefully. "Should we do the gift-giving now?"

  Finn shook his head slightly. "Pelta’s still sleeping."

  Emily stood gracefully, her energy renewed. "I’ll start preparing the best dishes I can. Please wait a little." She hurried after Eisen to quickly list what he should buy, and tried once more to press money into his hand.

  Eisen chuckled, his tone more teasing than sincere. "Come on, Miss. Let that old guy handle the burden. He’s the head, right? Your family, your elder brother—don’t treat him like a stranger."

  The words struck Emily deeply, and a soft, genuine warmth lit her face. She liked the sound of that. Elder brother. Family.

  Before she could respond, Eisen was already gone.

  She turned, voice firm but warm. "Jim, you’re helping out too."

  He grumbled under his breath but followed her toward the kitchen, the Sinclair family’s first evening together officially beginning.

  Soon afterward, she began preparing the meal with Jim. Eisen returned with more supplies than had been asked for.

  After an hour and a half, dinner was ready—a simple, well-made meal designed to fill everyone, nothing extravagant, but prepared with clear care.

  Emily looked toward the resting Pelta. "Will she not eat anything?"

  Ultimare shook his head. "She will not. Once she is asleep, she will not wake for some time."

  The meal began. It was a quiet affair, punctuated by soft conversation and polite questions about one another's lives. Lucien remained largely silent, focusing on his food.

  His word limit for the day had clearly been reached. Once everyone finished, Finn and Ultimare were tasked with cleaning the dishes—a chore they completed with unnatural, instant efficiency.

  Then came the sleeping arrangements. Emily had cleaned two rooms, but there were five guests, asking them to adjust for the night.

  The Sinclairs barely paid the issue any mind, beings of their caliber rarely needed something as mundane as sleep.

  Emily carefully lifted Pelta, holding her in a soft, teddy-bear hug that surprised Ultimare with its gentle strength. "She'll share my room," Emily declared happily.

  Jim watched silently, then muttered under his breath, "That girl is pretty unsafe tonight," a wry comment lost on everyone but himself.

  Finn and Eisen took one room. Lucien and Ultimare took the other, the one with a window.

  And so the day ended for each of them peacefully. Too peacefully.

  All of them completely unaware of the storm quietly piling over the city.