The twins bullied and pestered Dylan for weeks after that. They constantly disrupted his lessons and verbally abused him, leaving Dylan annoyed and depressed. Helpless against the two, Dylan directed all his anger towards his lessons and focussed solely on learning whatever was thrown at him.
Even meals were not free from the strenuous lessons. He was taught table manners, and was consistently interrupted and reprimanded for his habits. Dylan almost snapped on multiple occasions, but his love and desire for good food always held him back. In young Dylan's words, good is life, food is good, and therefore food is life. It didn't make sense but it was his life motto nevertheless.
Finally, a few months after he had started to live in the mansion, Dylan had a hint of nobility around him. He stood with grace and elegance so despite his young immature features, he seemed reliable and mature.
This is was severely contrasted by the twins. They seemed and acted undisciplined, frequently abusing the maids and treating them like they didn't even exist. They eluded an air of recklessness and undisguised hubris.
This somewhat baffled Dylan. He wondered why the twins didn't have to act 'noble' just like him. Even if one argued that only heirs were trained so strictly, the twins were previously the heirs to the household, it didn't make sense that they weren't taught to be one. The question bugged Dylan until one day, he finally received the answer to it.
"Young master, the lord has instructed me to inform you that you will be joining the family dinner tonight." Terisa told Dylan.
Dylan blinked at her. "Sorry, can you repeat what you just said?"
"The lord said you can join the family dinner tonight." Terisa repeated.
"Oh, okay. Thank you." Dylan absentmindedly replied. He stared off into space and blanked out, not paying attention to his lessons. The teacher got annoyed and reprimanded him on multiple occasions, but seeing that it wasn't working, he just left and gave Dylan a break for the rest of the day.
Dylan trotted back to his room and slumped down on the couch, his back still straight and posture perfect from the endless practice. He reached out for a cup of tea that a maid had just poured for him and sipped on it as his thoughts wandered. For a few months, he had never seen his father or step mother. The twins were the only ones he had met from the family and from the rumours, there was even a little sister.
Dylan never thought that he would ever meet his father. He was like some kind of mystical being enshrouded in mystery. A man that he couldn't even imagine. But Dylan had already formed an impression of him. That man did not care about his recently reunited son and left his alone for three months. He also disregarded his other sons for another when they were sick, basically announcing that he didn't care about them.
Such a man, what would it be like to meet him? Would it be like the winter seas or unexpectedly warm like the spring breeze? Dylan shook his head, and frowned. It was too difficult to picture in his head. This being called a father, what were they like?
Seeing Dylan knot his brows together, a maid cautiously spoke to him. "Is the tea not to your standards, young master?"
Dylan lifted his head and gazed into the young maid's eyes. He sipped on the black tea and smiled. It was a smile that was sweeter than honey, and warmer than the sun itself. "No, it's delicious."
The maid found herself involuntarily blushing at the boy only eight years old. He possessed an innocent yet devilish charm that drew people towards him. So, despite having shunted him when he first arrived, the maid very quickly warmed up to him and began to respect him. She admired his unyielding spirit and perseverance and also his patience and maturity when it came to the twins. Such a master was worthy of being served, she thought to herself.
When it was time for dinner, Dylan followed the maid and made his way towards the family dining hall. He had been using his personal one for a while but it seemed like he had been acknowledged as part of the family by his father now.
Dylan sat down on the wooden chair at the side of the table, opposite of the glaring twins. The front was reserved for their father and the twin's mother sat beside them. It seemed that their sister would be sitting beside Dylan.
"You should pray that you don't make a mistake today." Neil sneered.
"Lest father finally sees you for who you are!" Neah echoed.
Dylan merely smiled. "Thank you for the kind warning. I'll be careful."
"Wha-! What are you saying you idiot?"
"Did you even hear what we said? Are you deaf?"
Dylan nodded with that same smile. "Yes. You warned me about making mistakes. That was very kind of you. I wasn't aware that you liked me, your older brother so much. I'm flattered."
"Are you stupid?!"
"Or are just pretending to be stupid?!"
""You clearly know what we mean!""
"I understand that you wish to express your undying love to me, but we're currently at the dinner table, Neil, Neah. It is disgraceful to shout like that. Hasn't your teacher taught you this?"
The twins were about to refute and shout back in anger but suppressed the urge as they heard the doors opening. Their mother and little sister walked into the dining room with grace and unison and sat themselves at the table.
The twin's mother looked a lot like them. She had pale blonde hair and violet eyes, a stunning beauty that would turn heads. She had a distinct aura that was difficult to ignore, a strong and tough yet gentle air.
Jessica smiled at her sons when she sat down and also gently chided her daughter when she was playing with her cutlery. But not once did she cast a glance at Dylan. She ignored his existence and refused to acknowledge that his presence.
His half-sister also followed suit in ignoring Dylan. It was obvious that she was curious about him, and she would sneak glances at him but in her eyes were disgust and hatred directed towards Dylan.
The sound of opening doors echoed once again. A tall man walked in with confidence and noble grace. He had dazzlingly shiny golden hair and cold blue eyes. He looked exactly like Dylan. If it were not for the cold air that radiated from him, Dylan would have thought that the man was him all grown up and all.
Dylan's father, Alex glanced at Dylan. He took a note at what his son looked like, not even caring about how strikingly similar he looked to him and sat himself down at the table. And thus, began the family dinner between the family that was not like a family.