Noah x Syndra ①
Long, long ago, there was a peaceful little kingdom.
In a village on the edge of the kingdom lived a kind-hearted boy named Syndra. He loved life and had a kind heart.
But fate was not kind to him. After his parents passed away, his stepfather and two older brothers took over his house, replaced his room with an attic, and made him do laundry and cook every day, turning him into a servant in the house.
One late autumn, the palace issued an important announcement: the king was going to hold a ball to select a bride for his prince, and invited all eligible men and women to attend.
The stepfather and his brothers were so excited that they ransacked the place and found the silk clothes hidden at the bottom of the chest.
Syndra also wanted to attend the ball, so with the help of the animals, he took apart his best old clothes and sewed them up with scraps of cloth discarded by his brothers.
Finally, a dress that wasn't exactly glamorous was finished. Syndra carefully put it on and stood in front of the dusty mirror. Before she could even properly admire it, the attic door was suddenly kicked open.
He turned his head and found a person standing at the door of the attic. It was Noah, the second of his two stepbrothers. The other man was leaning against the door frame, his gaze sweeping over him from head to toe.
Noah frowned, his tone disdainful: "Syndra, do you think you can go to the ball looking like that?"
Syndra nodded in response to Noah's disdain. She wasn't interested in becoming a queen, but she did want to see what a court ball was like.
Noah seemed to have heard a joke and suddenly chuckled, taking two steps forward and grabbing Syndra's dress.
"You? Wearing this pile of rags? Don't even dream about it! You're nothing but a servant in our household, good enough for washing clothes and cooking, and you dare to covet a prince?"
As Noah spoke, he grabbed the collar of the dress with his fingers and ripped it open, instantly tearing the dress into crooked strips of fabric.
He tossed his hand away as if discarding something dirty, tossed his head back, chin held high, and strode away arrogantly over the rags, not even glancing back at Syndra.
Syndra lowered her eyes, looking at the dress she had spent three sleepless nights making, now lying on the floor in ruins, and pursed her lips expressionlessly.
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