Chapter 1: The Forgotten Princess

    "Why did I ever try so hard for people who never cared?"

    Nnenna lay weakly in the cramped storage room beneath the stairs, her so called "room" for the past ten years. Her body shivered from the cold, the threadbare blanket doing little to protect her from the icy drafts that seeped in.

    She could barely move, her strength sapped from the illness that had plagued her for weeks.

    From beyond the door, cheerful voices floated in, clear and mocking in their joy.

    "Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you, happy birthday dear Princess Ebere, happy birthday to you!"

    Laughter followed, a mixture of voices rising in celebration. Even the usually aloof elder brother joined in with a rare show of emotion.

    "Happy Sweet Sixteen, Princess Ebere!" he declared, his tone warm and sincere.@@@@

    Nnenna clenched her fists weakly. It was her birthday too.

    But, as always, no one remembered. No one cared. Not a single person had ever thought to acknowledge her existence, let alone her birthday. She was nothing more than an afterthought, a shadow to the radiant Princess Ebere.

    Ten years ago, she had been adopted into the royal Achebe family. Ten years ago, she had been taken in, not out of love or kindness, but to be a companion for their precious six year old daughter.

    By some cruel twist of fate, they happened to share the same birthday. And yet, for a decade, that fact had never mattered.

    For ten years, Ebere had been the shining star of the family, beloved by everyone, their parents, the staff, the diplomats, even the kingdom''s citizens. Ebere was the Princess of the Achebe royal family, the jewel in their crown.

    And Nnenna?

    Nnenna lay in her cold, cramped space beneath the stairs, her frail body trembling as she overheard their words. A bitter laugh escaped her lips, though it came out weak, more a gasp than a sound.

    She had worked until 2 a.m. the night before, sweeping and mopping the entire hall, decorating it to perfection, preparing the materials for the celebration, rewashing the fine china, and completing countless other tasks, all while battling the fever that sapped her strength.

    Every day, she woke before even the servants to begin her chores. She dressed Ebere, styled her hair, waited on her like a maid, even though she, too, bore the title of princess. A title in name only. In truth, she was nothing but a slave.

    And yet, they called her lazy.

    Her condition had worsened because of this unrelenting workload. She hadn''t even been able to rest properly. When the old housekeeper noticed her declining health and tried to give her medicine, it had been Ebere, sweet, kind, beloved Ebere, who had stopped him.

    "If you give her that medicine, I''ll fire you," Ebere had said sharply, her tone leaving no room for argument.

    But the old man didn''t care. He had watched Nnenna grow up in this house, her resilience and quiet strength earning his admiration. In his heart, he saw her as a daughter. Risking his job, he tried again, this time in secret.

    It hadn''t worked. Ebere, with her network of spying servants, found out and escalated her threats. "I''ll ruin your family," she hissed. "Your sons, your wife, everyone you care about. Do you want to risk them just for her?"

    Faced with no choice, the housekeeper had backed down temporarily.

    Nnenna''s chest tightened as the memories surged. Yes, she was jealous. Not of the title of princess, but of Ebere''s effortless way of being loved.

    Ebere didn''t have to try. She didn''t have to lift a finger. Everyone adored her just for existing. Meanwhile, Nnenna had done everything to win their approval, taken the blame for her fourth brother''s mistakes, endured false accusations from Ebere, and offered business ideas to her second brother, which earned him their father''s favor.

    She had moderated fan groups for her third brother, defending him against online attacks until her fingers were raw from typing. She had nursed her first brother through sicknesses no one else could genuinely bother with.

    And yet, no one cared.