Married To My Fiance’s Brother - Chapter 3

I spread my fingers slightly and peeked at Khalid through the gap.

At some point, he had crouched down, leaning his large back forward to look at me. His clear, sky-blue eyes were as transparent as glass, reflecting my black-clad figure like a mirror.

I sniffled and quickly turned my head to the side. Khalid’s full, slightly reddened lips parted a little.

“…Crying in front of me won’t do you any good. There’s no one here to feel sorry for you. You should’ve saved your tears for Izar’s coffin, if anywhere…”

“What’s the point of that? Izar’s not even in his coffin…”

“Alright, alright. Calm down, would you? If anyone sees this, they’ll think I’m the one who made you cry.”

Khalid sighed deeply and began rummaging through his clothes.

His cravat was missing, and his shirt was already undone at the top, two or three buttons open, leaving his chest exposed.

From his haphazardly worn shirt pocket, he pulled out what he was looking for—a handkerchief.

With an irritated motion, he grabbed my hand and placed the handkerchief in it. It was clean, though it was wrinkled and looked like it had been carelessly crumpled, just like him.

How does everything about him, even the things he carries, mirror his own personality?

I couldn’t help but let out a dry chuckle. Pressing the handkerchief against my tear-streaked cheeks, I muttered, “Don’t be such a jerk… I’m struggling enough as it is, even if I don’t show it.”

“You’re showing it plenty, though. And jerk? Not exactly a word you’d expect from a noble lady.”

Khalid seemed to have forgotten where I’d picked up my rougher language.

Who else but the person who constantly snuck out of the palace, ditching his guards to roam the streets, would I have learned such things from?

“…Yeah, sure. It’s my fault, isn’t it?”

I shot him a wordless look, and Khalid quickly caught on.

Rubbing the mole beneath his lip and the nearby edge of his jaw, his thick eyebrows twitched slightly.

His face was so strikingly similar to Izar’s that I couldn’t help but stare, mesmerized.

“If you’re done crying, just leave,” he said.

“Leave? Where do you want me to go?”

“Anywhere. Just don’t stand there thinking of someone else while looking at me. It’s… unsettling for the one being compared.”

How did he know? I flinched, my shoulder jerking as I hurriedly wiped my eyes with the handkerchief. He had seen right through me.

Moments ago, Khalid seemed almost softer, but now he was back to the Khalid I knew—his expression sharp, his eyes slightly narrowed as if annoyed, lips pressed into a tight line.

He crossed his arms, tapping his arm with his fingers, then suddenly stood up with a jerk.

“Don’t get it twisted, Renata Carneluti. I have no intention of replacing Izar.”

“…What are you talking about? Izar is gone, so you’re the one who has to inherit the throne.”

“Stop pretending you don’t know. What I’m saying is, I won’t marry you just to act as Izar’s stand-in.”

“But—”

“No buts.”

Khalid cut me off coldly. Standing with the sun behind him, his face was cast in shadow, making it impossible to read his expression.

But…

There was so much I wanted to say to him. But suddenly, I felt overwhelmed, exhausted, so I decided to stay quiet.

Now, all I could see was the blinding sunlight spilling over Khalid’s shoulders.

I staggered as I rose to my feet, looking up at him.

His face, still frozen in a slight stiffness, looked down at me, his eyes lowering to meet mine. He stood there for a while, silently observing me.

Khalid, still watching me, finally lifted one corner of his mouth in a sneer.

“…Renata, are you saying that you don’t care if it’s the younger brother as long as you become empress?”

“…What? What are you even talking about?”

I opened my mouth hastily, but then hesitated, unsure of where to begin.

Of course, I want to become empress.

But it’s not that I want to—it’s more accurate to say that I have to. It’s not me who wants it, but my family.

And Khalid, this is not something you and I can decide on our own.

It would be best if you stopped pretending to be unaware of that. Marriage between nobles has always been a transaction between families.

Just because Khalid doesn’t like it doesn’t mean our marriage won’t happen. That’s simply not how the world works.

After Izar’s death, Icalis II was the first to propose a marriage alliance between Khalid and my family.

The imperial family’s finances were in a dire state, so much so that Khalid’s engagement was quickly arranged.

Given the circumstances, how could Khalid possibly refuse? No matter that he was next in line for the throne—what right did he have to reject me?

Though our family might lack the long history and noble bloodlines of other houses, there were plenty of noble families—apart from the imperial one—that would have been eager to marry into the Carneluti estate.

Sure, the perception of new nobles, especially those who bought their titles, was still disdainful.

But our family, the Carneluti earldom, was one of the wealthiest on the continent, not just within the empire.

Countless noble houses had fallen into ruin due to the ongoing wars—it was too common to even remark on at this point.

In fact, by the time I came of age, the emperor had even elevated our family to the rank of earl, saying that a family destined to stand shoulder to shoulder with the imperial family needed at least that much status.

The situation had already progressed this far.

That’s why I haven’t even had time to properly mourn Izar’s death.

But Khalid—what does he think he is, refusing me like this?

“…Yes, I want to be empress,” I answered weakly, finally. Even if I didn’t want it, this was the reality.

Khalid’s gaze darkened, his eyes clouding over as if he were looking at something utterly distasteful.

His jaw clenched tightly, his expression twisted with cold contempt. He stared at me with open disgust.

“A puppet, nothing more than that.”

“…Do you think you’re any different?”

His words stung, and I felt a surge of anger. I began glaring back at him, refusing to back down.

As much as he tried to act like this, Khalid wasn’t an idiot. He was actually quite smart, good at his studies.

There was no way he didn’t understand the complex circumstances surrounding us.

So why this attitude? Why was he behaving like this?

I didn’t know, and at that moment, I didn’t care enough to find out. I didn’t want to think about it anymore.

The future that stretched ahead of me seemed bleak, devoid of any real happiness. With frustration welling up, I shot one last glare at Khalid before walking past him. I even deliberately bumped his shoulder in irritation.

It was a decent attempt, but Khalid was a seasoned knight who trained obsessively with the sword every single day. By the time I made it back into the sanctuary, it was my shoulder aching from the impact, not his.

Now, how am I supposed to explain this to my father and the Emperor?

Both of them seemed to expect me to placate Khalid and win him over with charm.

***

In the carriage on the way back, my father pressed a hand to his forehead as he listened to my account.

“…He said he wouldn’t marry you?”

“Yes, but it’s just childish talk. Even His Highness knows that’s not possible.”

“Of course. But did you really have to argue with the second prince like that?”

…Maybe I shouldn’t have said anything at all. I was trying to show him what a difficult person his future son-in-law was, but instead, the criticism was aimed squarely at me.

Taken aback, I stayed silent, lips pressed tightly together, unable to offer any defense.

“His brother—someone as close to him as his own flesh—has just died. He’s bound to be on edge for a while.”

“That may be true, but what about me, Father?”

“…Hmm. I understand how upset you must be. But now is not the time to dwell on your frustrations.”

Though my father didn’t say it outright, the message was clear: I needed to make an effort to get along with Khalid.

More than anyone, my father wanted to solidify our family’s connection to the imperial family through this marriage.

He couldn’t tolerate the idea of anything jeopardizing this new alliance.

“The engagement ceremony with the second prince is in just a week. Do what you can to win him over before then.”

“…Even if I don’t, the ceremony will go ahead, won’t it?”

“Still, if things continue as they are, who knows what that reckless prince might do during the ceremony.”

As my father continued his reprimand, the carriage rolled steadily onward.

Eventually, we arrived at the largest estate in the capital. The carriage came to a gradual stop, and I straightened my slumped shoulders at the sound of the wheels halting.

Father stepped out first, then helped me down from the carriage. I took his arm as we walked toward the mansion, silently regretting having told him anything at all.