“That’s more chaotic than I imagined.”

I thought being a Count meant you were all high and mighty with loads of cash, but boy, was I wrong!

“I don’t want to eat this!”

“Aida, there are tons of folks outside who’d love to have even a crumb of this! Quit your grumbling!”

My little sister Aida tossed the bread aside, tears streaming down her cheeks while our father, Count Bradley Somerset, gave her a stern talking-to.

I took a peek at the food in front of me, wondering if dining in a noble family was really all that different from a regular one.

On the table sat a watery, unrecognizable soup and bread that could’ve been used to build a fortress—they were that hard!

Seriously, these would hardly be appealing to a kid.

I steeled my resolve to eat, reached to dip the bread in the soup, but just as I was about to tear it apart—

Crack!

Did I just hear a sound like wood breaking?

   

---