The War General

1

"I swear he's perfect, tall, dark, and handsome I mean, what more could I possibly ask for!?" My sister Rosalie asks dreamily.

"I don't know Rose." I sigh for the umpteenth time today. She was starting to give me a headache, a massive one at that.

"Oh, and don't get me started on how kind and respectful he is. I mean, I've heard that the knights can be quite mean and emotionless when they come back from war, but not my Anthony. Seriously..."

Rosalie had been going on and on about her husband returning home after the five year war. Don't get me wrong, I was happy for her, but if I had to sit through another minute of Rose talking about her dream man, I was going to choke her. I hated to sound like I was raining on her parade but hearing her talk about her husband had me feeling down.

It was like Rose had gotten everything she had ever dreamt about. In the eyes of my mother and father, Rose was perfect, the golden child while I, on the other hand, was the complete opposite. Every single one of her accomplishments was met with praise while I received criticism.

"Why can't you be more like your sister?"

"Why aren't you doing well in math?"

"Why do you dress like that?"

"Why is your form all messy?"

All comments from my parents when comparing my twin sister and me. It could be exhausting and oftentimes hurtful, but after twenty-three years of hearing the same things over again, I was used to it. It hurt a lot, don't get me wrong but what else could I do? I couldn't compete when Rosalie was always the star of the show. She was an airhead or, in better terms, an arrogant, narcissistic princess that pretty much got everything she wanted.

I don't mean to complain but it was true, and it sucked. From the time I was born I've always had it harder than my sister. Hell, we were identical twins, literally looked the exact same, and I had been told more times than I could count that my sister was prettier than me. The only difference was that I had a beauty mark on my cheek, and I was, at the slightest a bit thicker than my sister.

I wish I had her confidence and charisma but I didn't. I was awkward, a bit more on the quiet and timid side. I found myself sometimes looking up to Rosalie because of my own indifferences towards myself. I never felt good enough for my parents and even for my sister.

"Ivy, are you even listening to me?" Rosalie practically screeches. I pop my head up that was recently propped on my hand.

"Huh? Yes, of course I was." I lie and watch as my sister's face contorts into one of irritation.

"You were not. I asked if you were excited about seeing your husband again for the first time in five years." She says while sitting beside me to sip on her tea.

"Oh, not really. I don't really know the guy to be that excited." I respond.

Yet it was true. The last time I had seen my husband was on our wedding day. I remember it like it was yesterday, the first time I had seen Juko. We were both eighteen and nervous as hell to get married. I could see the apprehension in his eyes when we both said our I do's. I knew he didn't want to be there just as much as I did.

I had no choice in the matter, and neither did he.

My father was best friends with the King of the North and wanted nothing more than to marry me off to a knight. All the while, my sister herself was married off to a prince that was helping us fight in the war.

Juko was the same height as me then, with piercing gray eyes and short black hair with a dimple on his cheek. I only noticed his dimple because when he spoke or said certain words, it would pop out. He wasn't much of a smiler, from what I could tell. He seemed closed off and a bit sad on our wedding day, and I wasn't sure why. Nevertheless, I still thought he was absolutely adorable and just as awkward as me.