Married To My Fiance’s Brother - Chapter 2

“You’re going to have a tough time ahead, Renata. Khalid will almost certainly be a thorn in your side.”

“…I’ve already prepared myself for that,” I responded.

I exchanged a glance with Icalis II, both of us grimacing slightly. Would Khalid, who was soon to inherit the position of crown prince in place of his late brother, really accept me, now bound to him by marriage overnight? The answer was obvious without needing to see it play out. My future looked bleak…

Suppressing a sigh that threatened to escape, I turned to leave. Almost immediately, whispers filled the air, as though they had been waiting for me to turn my back.

I could feel the sharp gazes of the nobles who stood in a line behind the emperor.

They made no effort to hide their disdain, speaking loudly enough for me to hear their cruel remarks.

“…Look at her, not a single tear for the late crown prince. Cold-blooded, isn’t she?”

“Shameless. In our time, commoners who bought their way into nobility wouldn’t dare say a word to the ‘real’ aristocrats.”

“The times are changing, I suppose.”

Who was that last voice? I turned my head without thinking.

Then I quickly realized my mistake and clicked my tongue softly. My father had always warned me, “Most nobles won’t acknowledge us. It can’t be helped for now. Just pretend you didn’t hear anything.”

“Shall I open the door for you?”

I had just realized my error and was about to turn back when a pale, large hand appeared, stretching across my shoulder.

Startled, I blinked rapidly and looked up. A man with light brown hair, almost golden, was staring down at me with an expressionless face.

“Sir Hasious.”

“Just Cassian will do. Using only my last name feels too formal.”

I recognized the voice—it was the same one that had mentioned the changing times.

Cassian was the heir to the House of Hasious, a ducal family that had branched off from the royal family during his father’s generation.

He had also fought alongside Izar, the commander-in-chief during the recent war. I vaguely remembered seeing Cassian standing beside Izar when they both departed for the battlefield. He had served as the deputy commander, if I recalled correctly.

I pushed those thoughts aside and responded.

“Then, I’ll leave it to you.”

“Are you going to find Khalid?”

Cassian’s hand, which rested on the door, bore faint scars scattered across it.

I silently stared at his slowly moving hand, not offering any response. When he didn’t hear an answer, he asked again.

“If not that, are you looking for a place to hide and cry?”

“No, I’m going to meet the prince,” I answered firmly.

“I thought so. He’s probably in the central garden.”

Narrowing his almond-shaped eyes slightly, Cassian pushed open the door to the sanctuary.

A cold gust of wind blew in through the open windows across the hallway, and my long black hair, neatly arranged, began to whip around wildly.

I quickly gathered my hair with one hand and thanked Cassian.

With a slight nod, he gestured in the direction of the central garden.

“I can walk you there if you like. The layout of this sanctuary is notoriously complicated.”

“No, I think I can manage on my own.”

“Really? I was hoping to use you as an excuse to escape this miserable atmosphere,” he said with a faint smile, the first sign of any expression on his otherwise stoic face.

Unsure of how to respond, I could only offer an awkward smile in return.

Sensing my discomfort, he stepped aside.

“I’ve kept you long enough. You should go.”

“Yes.”

“You didn’t deny it even once.”

“…Ah, well.”

“I was only joking.”

Cracking jokes at a somber funeral—what a lunatic. He looks perfectly normal, though…

I gave him a look as if he were some kind of weirdo, then took a step forward in my black shoes.

A short while later, I arrived at the central garden, which smelled of freshly cut grass, and inhaled deeply. Despite the season being somewhere on the border between fall and winter, the garden remained lush and green.

It was thanks to a preservation spell cast long ago by a mage.

It’s strange, really. The traces of mages still linger all over the empire and the entire continent, yet they themselves have vanished due to the large-scale purge.

“…Sigh.”

I stopped the stream of thoughts running through my mind.

All of this was just a distraction—an attempt to avoid the fact that I had to be the one to seek out Khalid first.

“Khalid, where are you?”

In the center of the garden was a delicately carved statue of a cherub, with water trickling from the trumpet in its hands into a fountain below.

Surrounding it were astronomically expensive flowers and fruit trees.

I admired the picture-perfect scenery of the garden for a moment before raising my gaze.

Even back when we were at Varkalia, Khalid often skipped classes.

He’d climb tall, sturdy trees, either napping or reading, wasting time. Was he a tree spirit in a past life? Although, that image really doesn’t suit him.

“…You’re as lazy as ever. What are you doing up there?”

It didn’t take long to find him.

Once I passed some bright flowered vines, I spotted the largest tree in the garden, and there, sitting in its branches, was Khalid.

If he were still the skinny kid from years ago, it might make sense, but now? He was nearly six feet three inches tall with broad shoulders, yet here he was, still climbing trees.

Khalid sat there, dressed in a raven-black suit, not even bothering to glance in my direction. I opened my mouth and called out to him.

“What are you doing up there? You’re too old to hide by yourself just because you don’t want anyone to see you cry.”

“…Ugh, you’re so loud.”

Izar and Khalid may have been twins born on the same day, but they were quite different despite their identical features.

For one, Izar had silver hair and violet eyes, while Khalid had blonde hair and light sky-blue eyes.

Though both were sons of the empress, Khalid hadn’t inherited the royal family’s signature violet eyes.

His sky-blue eyes came from his mother, the empress.

So, unlike Izar, who had been born destined to become crown prince and raised under the rigorous training of a future monarch, Khalid had lived a much freer life.

Given such contrasting upbringings, it was only natural that their personalities would differ as well.

Where Izar was calm and gentle, Khalid had a temper and could be unpredictable at times.

Ah, and there was one more difference: Izar had a mole under his left eye, while Khalid had one under his right lip.

“Stop bothering me. Honestly, I wish you’d just get lost before you even start talking.”

This was the future crown prince, and yet he spoke with such crudeness that it was hard not to furrow my brow in irritation.

Khalid, his voice hoarse and rougher than usual, was practically issuing an order to leave.

“How long has it been since Izar died, and you’re already here, seeking me out?”

“The Emperor told me to come.”

“…And you actually did? Well, I’m not in the mood to talk to you right now.”

Khalid still didn’t bother to look in my direction, even as he spoke.

At the mention of Icalis II, he irritably ran his hands through his golden hair, messing it up. His large hands, like Cassian’s, were scarred. But unlike Cassian’s pale skin, Khalid’s complexion was darker.

Cassian had fair skin that never tanned easily, and even Izar, before leaving for his first war, had been fair-skinned as well. But Khalid, who had already been to war four times, had skin tanned like a soldier from the streets.

His hands were calloused, with thick, long fingers and neatly trimmed nails.

In every little detail, Khalid resembled Izar far more than anyone else, certainly more than Icalis II.

Everything about Khalid reminded me of Izar.

Had I known it would be like this, maybe I should have followed Cassian’s advice and found a place to cry in secret.

Damn it, Izar. Why did you have to die? Why did you leave me behind and go?

As my mind filled with these complaints, I collapsed onto the dirt, sitting with a thud.

I furiously rubbed at my heated eyes.

“No matter what kind of show you put on, I’m not coming dow—”

Rustle. All I could hear was the sound of branches and leaves shaking in my blurred vision.

“Goddamn it… Renata, are you crying?”

Then I heard the sound of Khalid landing on the ground. Without even seeing him, I could picture his face—irritated, clicking his tongue in annoyance.

He was probably narrowing those long, sharp eyes, just like Izar used to.

The twin brothers shared such habits in the smallest, most subtle ways.

“I asked if you were crying. Didn’t you hear me? Renata? …Hey, are you ignoring me?”

“…I’m not crying. So just go away.”

“Weren’t you the one telling me to come down?”

“I never said that.”

Even after thinking it over, I definitely hadn’t said anything like that.