Morning light bathed the hills of northern Italy, where a private luxury villa stood quietly apart from the bustle of the main city. Unlike the ancient grandeur of noble estates, this home was a masterpiece of modern elegance—sleek, minimalistic, and proudly Italian in its design. The mansion sat atop a gentle slope, surrounded by tall hedges and rows of olive trees. White marble walls shimmered under the morning sun, framed by dark stone accents and floor-to-ceiling windows that welcomed in the golden light. Balconies stretched along the upper floors, offering panoramic views of the vineyards and distant mountains. A private pool sparkled below, untouched and pristine.
Inside, the atmosphere was a blend of clean modernity and quiet luxury. Polished floors reflected the natural light streaming through sheer curtains, and every detail—from the soft-glow lighting to the scent of fresh peonies—spoke of quiet wealth and refined taste.
On the second floor, in a bedroom designed for a young woman of charm and elegance, Calestina was just beginning her day.
The room was a dream in soft pastels. Its walls were painted a pale cream-rose, decorated with floating glass shelves lined with collectible figurines and designer perfumes. A white vanity stood near the window, its mirror surrounded by golden bulbs, while a pale pink rug sat beneath a circular sitting chair shaped like a tulip. Across from the window was a wide bed with an upholstered headboard, flanked by sleek nightstands with crystal lamps.
Lying on her stomach across the bed, Calestina scrolled lazily through her phone. Her golden hair spilled like silk over the sheets, catching the morning light with a soft gleam. Her skin was luminous—pale and smooth like fine porcelain, untouched by sun or time.
She wore a short, airy sleep dress in a gentle pink hue, the hem trimmed with lace that fluttered faintly with every movement. The dress clung delicately to her form, as light as flower petals in the breeze. Her legs were raised and swinging absentmindedly in the air, her bare feet swaying to a rhythm only she knew.
In her hands was the latest model of a luxury smartphone, glossy pink with a transparent glitter case. Hanging from the corner was a charming keychain: a plush pink bunny holding a heart-shaped candy, attached beside a dangling silver moon and a little jingle bell that chimed softly with each motion.
The quiet was comforting. No servants disturbed her, no voices echoed down the halls. This was her space—her sanctuary, untouched by the expectations of family name or noble bloodlines. In this soft bubble of peace, Calestina lingered just a little longer before the world called her back.
"Oh!" Calestina exclaimed aloud, her eyes widening as a sudden notification flashed across her phone screen, catching her completely off guard. The image was bold, luxurious—something about Royale—and though she didn't absorb all the details, her curiosity ignited instantly.
She sat upright in a flash, heart racing with excitement.
Within seconds, she was off the bed, her short pink nightdress fluttering around her thighs as she dashed out of her room. The sound of her bare feet echoed softly along the marble floor of the upstairs hallway.
Just next door was Viviana's room.
Unlike Calestina's dreamy, pastel sanctuary, Viviana's room was stark and cool—neutral tones, minimal décor, and a quiet, almost clinical elegance. The walls were bare save for a single clock. The furniture was sharp-edged and functional, and a sleek desk sat by the window where Viviana was currently seated.
Though she wasn't academically gifted and never formally enrolled in school, Viviana enjoyed studying on her own terms. Journaling had become her quiet escape—her way of reflecting, processing, and anchoring herself in a world that moved too fast.
Her pen glided across the page in steady rhythm—until the door flung open.
"Sorella!" Calestina shouted breathlessly, bursting into the room without so much as a knock.
Viviana jolted in her chair, eyes wide in alarm.
"Calestina!" she snapped, voice rising with sudden irritation.
"Che cavolo fai?! Sei cieca o cosa, sorellina? Non vedi che la tua sorella è occupata?!"
("What the hell are you doing?! Are you blind or what, little sister? Can't you see your big sister is busy?!")
She slammed her journal shut, brows furrowed and lips pressed into a thin line.
But Calestina, glowing with excitement, didn't even flinch.
"Sorella! Sorella!!" Calestina squealed, hopping excitedly across the floor.
Her delicate, fair feet thudded gently with every bounce—small and porcelain-pale, the soles blushing a soft pink from the impact. Her golden hair flowed behind her, and her pink nightdress fluttered like petals in motion as she jumped up and down in her sister's room.
Without any sense of boundaries, she waved her phone right in Viviana's face.
"Look! It's the Season 7 Swimming Tournament—Battle Royale Iseland!"
Viviana raised a brow but took the phone anyway with a sigh.
On-screen, a vibrant promo video exploded to life—flashy, intense, and packed with flair. The voiceover boomed with dramatic energy:
"Coming soon… the Final Selection of Royale Iseland Season 7!"
"Here are the 11 elite swimmers who made it through the Season 6 qualifiers!"
"And among them, the undefeated champion for four consecutive years—
Adrien Leontius Lyssander ! Known for his sharp looks, powerful form, and exceptional technique—this season's strongest contender!"
A cinematic shot played of Adrien emerging from the pool, water cascading from his sculpted frame, eyes sharp, and signature smirk in place. His presence was commanding—like a prince of the sea.
Viviana's face twisted immediately.
That meme-worthy look of half-horror, half-annoyance washed over her expression—exactly annoyed Lips curled, brow furrowed, she handed the phone back like it was contagious.
"Seriously?" she groaned.
"You barge into my room to fangirl over our cousin showing off on national broadcast?"
Calestina giggled, clearly unbothered.
"But he looks so cool!"
Viviana deadpanned.
"He's annoying and probably Julian is going to send us that video of his brother in the group chat anyway."
Viviana rolled her eyes and turned back to her desk, picking up her pen to resume writing in her journal, as if her little sister's chaos didn't exist.
But Calestina wasn't letting go that easily.
She suddenly bounced closer and gasped excitedly, her voice bright with anticipation.
"Sorella! Zio Marco and Zio Lucas are going to the tournament too! They'll be there in person!"
That got Viviana's attention—barely. Her pen slowed, but she didn't look up.
Calestina stepped forward and began tugging on her sister's shoulders, pleading like a child begging for candy.
"Come on, let's go! Let's go, let's gooo!"
Viviana sighed loudly, her entire body slumping with exaggerated fatigue.
"Fine, fine. I'll go, alright?" she muttered.
"Ugh, you're so persistent…"
Calestina instantly lit up, squealing in joy.
"Yayyyy!" she cried, spinning in place with her arms wide open.
Her golden hair whipped through the air as she danced across the room.
"This is going to be so fun!"
Viviana just shook her head, turning back to her journal.
Meanwhile, not far from the Italian coast, the grand Ferdinand Lyssander family beach mansion stood proudly—a sprawling villa that looked more like a luxurious seaside retreat than a traditional estate.
Built with warm terracotta walls and wide, arched windows, the mansion basked in the golden Mediterranean sun. Its architecture was a perfect blend of modern elegance and classic coastal charm, complete with expansive balconies overlooking the quiet, pristine beach just beyond the garden gates.
Ferdinand had chosen this location for a reason because from a young age, Adrien's passion for swimming had been clear, and his Ferdinand spared no expense in buying the perfect home where his son could train daily by the sea.
While Adrien immersed himself in the water, Julian his twin brother preferred a different kind of summer fun.
On warm, bright afternoons when the beach buzzed with laughter and sunbathers, Adrien was already slicing through the waves, focused and disciplined. Julian, the extrovert, took to the shore as a lifeguard, watching over the children playing in the surf with a grin that matched the sparkling sea.
It was his choice, and he embraced the role with playful energy.
From the mansion's large balcony, Ferdinand often stood silently, gazing out over the tranquil water. His posture was calm but proud, his eyes reflecting the shimmering horizon and the achievements of his sons.
The beach was rarely crowded, a hidden gem that suited the family perfectly. This peacefulness was part of the reason Julian loved it here—it gave him space to thrive, to be the outgoing twin who lived for people and excitement.
Rochelle and Ferdinand lived far apart each with their own estate while Lucas and Marco stayed at the ancestral Lyssander mansion. Marco, as the eldest son, had been gifted the grand estate, and Lucas lived there as well, alongside his twin sons Matteo and Evander, who spent most of their time in the mansion's vast library.
Julian glanced at his phone, grinning like he'd just found treasure. He shouted to his brother who was just drying off after a swim.
"Adrien! Come check this out!"
Adrien, half-naked in nothing but his swim shorts, water dripping from his messy hair, trudged over with an unimpressed look. Julian was lounging on his lifeguard chair, phone in hand.
"Look, dude—there's your face plastered all over this thing. Handsome as hell, no cap." Julian laughed loud enough to annoy nearby sunbathers.
Adrien rolled his eyes.
"so?" He raised an eyebrow like he was a judge on a cooking show.
Julian scrolled excitedly.
"Zio Marco and Zio Lucas are hooking us up with a bus. But not just any bus—it's like a freakin' house on wheels. We're riding in style to the tournament! It's gonna be lit!"
Adrien's face turned serious for a moment.
"Wait, is Zia Anne coming too?"
Julian looked surprised, his voice teasing.
"Nope, she's in Las Vegas right now. Why, you planning to meet up with Mireyna or something?" He raised an eyebrow mockingly.
Adrien slammed the lifeguard chair like it owed him money.
"Bro, stop talking nonsense!"
"Hey! Watch it, you're gonna knock me over, you fatso!"
Adrien shot him a look. Back when they were kids, Adrien was the chubbier twin, and Julian never let him forget it. Now it was just a running joke.
Julian's smile turned sly.
"Don't even think about trying to get with that Japanese girl—that one's mine."
Adrien shaking his head.
"crazy."
Julian chuckled in reply.
"Same to you…like that Anna-."
Adrien gave him a deadly glare.
"stop it."
Julian put his hands up surrender "whoa chill i know"
With a dramatic sigh, Adrien turned, ran toward the water, and cannonballed in.
From his chair, Julian laughed while waved wildly and shouted,
"Have fun drowning, my beloved tubby brother!"