Married To My Fiance’s Brother - Chapter 4

I was already harboring ill feelings toward Khalid, and after the scolding from my father, my resentment toward him only grew.

Why is it that I’m the one who has to make all the effort? Why me, and only me?

“Welcome home, my lord. And Miss Renata.”

At the grand entrance, framed with golden leaf decorations, our head steward, Kaya, greeted us with a bow. She immediately opened the door for us.

“Young Master Lenarc returned about an hour ago. He requested dinner. Would the two of you like to join him?”

“I have an appointment, so I’ll be changing and heading out shortly,” Father replied.

“And you, Miss?”

“I’m not really hungry.”

The truth was, I’d barely eaten anything today—a half apple for breakfast, and that was it. It wasn’t intentional. I just hadn’t had any appetite lately.

I knew I should eat, especially during times like these, but following through was much harder than it seemed.

I handed my black gloves to Kaya. “You should have something, even if it’s just a light soup. You’ll fall ill if you keep this up.”

“I’m fine,” I said, though what I really wanted was to go straight to my room and rest.

However, since Lenarc had returned, I couldn’t ignore him.

Father, who had been quietly observing me, left with the waiting attendants. I watched him walk away, his broad back disappearing into the distance.

A moment later, I started up the stairs. Lenarc’s room was on the second floor, at the end of the eastern hallway.

I knocked two or three times, but there was no answer. From the sound of running water, it seemed he was in the bathroom across the hall.

I turned the knob and entered. As expected, Lenarc’s room was empty.

“Ugh, it’s a mess…”

Books and papers were scattered all over the bed and the floor around it. I picked up a sheet of paper that was underfoot, glanced at it briefly, and quickly lost interest. Dropping it back on the bed, I sank into a plush armchair nearby.

As I absentmindedly played with my long, black hair, twisting and untwisting it, I heard faint voices outside, followed by footsteps.

A few moments later, Lenarc appeared, drying his wet black hair with a towel.

“You’re here already? I was just about to come find you,” he said with a light smile, blinking his reddish eyes. Water dripped from his neatly trimmed hair, and he adjusted his dark navy robe as he walked toward me.

“You must be tired. What brings you here?”

“Judging by your attire, you went to the funeral today,” he said, glancing at my mourning clothes. “I’ll head over after lunch myself.”

“You can take your time. His Majesty will understand.”

Lenarc Carneluti. He was my older brother by two years, at least legally.

He had been adopted into our family when I was seven. Even before the imperial proposal came, Father had ambitious plans to marry me into a prestigious noble family, at least a duchy.

For that, he needed an heir to carry on the family name. But no matter how much time passed, my parents had no children besides me, their only daughter.

Eventually, Father brought Lenarc, a distant relative who lived abroad, into the family.

Apparently, that branch of the family, despite carrying the Carneluti name, was struggling financially. Father spent the equivalent of a well-to-do noble’s estate in the capital to officially register Lenarc as part of our household.

But Lenarc’s branch was so distant from ours that we had almost no contact with them, making him practically a stranger when he arrived.

Still, after living together for fifteen years, I’d come to think of him as my real family.

“You’re the one His Majesty favors, not me,” Lenarc said with a knowing smile.

“You know how busy you are, how much more there is to handle than just your own work,” I said, my voice edged with frustration.

“And the more money I bring in, the happier His Majesty will be, right?” Lenarc replied with a slight smile.

Since graduating from Varkilia, Lenarc had been traveling all over the continent, throwing himself into the family’s trade business. It was nearly impossible to catch him at home these days.

If not for Izar’s death, he likely wouldn’t have returned so soon.

“Ugh… Izar hasn’t been gone for long, and even you are talking about this?” I sighed.

“…Because you have to separate business from personal feelings,” he said with a shrug, scratching his cheek. Lenarc and Father, both so rational. Did they even have emotions?

I couldn’t help it—unlike in front of Father, I let my guard down with Lenarc and allowed my frustration to spill out. The tears that had stopped earlier now threatened to flow again.

Even now, if I closed my eyes, I could picture Izar’s face as clear as day.

I thought of the children who used to shun me, branding me a “fake noble” because of my family’s origins, and how no matter how hard I tried, I could never fit in with them.

But whenever I was alone, Izar would always find me first, smiling kindly as he extended a hand toward me. My heart ached as memories flooded back. I spoke through the lump in my throat.

“…You didn’t know Izar well, so of course you can talk like that.”

“Well, we didn’t cross paths much. Besides, I told you over and over—don’t get too close to him before you’re even married. You never know what might happen in this world.”

Lenarc sounded like an old man, despite being only two years older than me.

Seeing the tear stains on my face, he clicked his tongue in mild frustration, rubbing his lips as if unsure what to say next.

“War is terrifying for this very reason. I just hope we see peace soon,” he muttered, clearing his throat. Unlike Izar and Khalid, who constantly had a sword in hand, Lenarc’s long, slender fingers were more familiar with holding a pen. He lightly tapped my cheek with them.

“By the way, there’s a rumor going around that Izar’s death might have been caused by magic.”

“…What?” I stared at him in disbelief. “I’ve never heard that.”

“Of course not. The royal family would’ve made sure to keep it quiet. I just heard it from a reliable source.”

But magic… didn’t mages no longer exist in this world?

That’s what I’d been taught, what I had always believed.

So hearing Lenarc mention such an absurd cause for Izar’s death was incomprehensible to me.

And yet… I recalled something.

Father had once mentioned that Izar had vanished as though he had been completely erased from the battlefield, leaving no trace behind. But with today’s technology, such a thing was nearly impossible—unless it was magic.

Could it be that there was a mage involved in the war Izar fought in? But what difference would that make now?

Whether it was magic or something else, the fact remained—Izar was dead.

“Relax. I only brought it up because it was related to the crown prince. I didn’t mean to upset you,” Lenarc said, sighing as he reached for the glass of water on the table, gulping it down in one go.

The cold condensation on the surface of the glass fogged up as Lenarc set it down with a soft clink. I stared at it blankly, my mind elsewhere.

Inside, I felt like I was burning to ash. The mere thought of Izar and death together made my heart ache unbearably.

Even now, I wasn’t ready to accept that Izar was truly gone.

Suddenly, I was overwhelmed by the urge to block my ears and shut my eyes, wanting to escape from everything.

“Judging by that look on your face, I assume Father’s already given you a talking-to,” Lenarc remarked.

“…Yeah. He told me to try and get along with Khalid.”

“Hmm, since you’ve already heard it from him, I’ll keep quiet then.”

In other words, Lenarc agreed with Father. Of course. These cold-blooded people.

Whenever Lenarc and Father acted like this, I couldn’t help but feel like they were strangers, people I barely knew.

I wondered if living among such emotionless people would eventually make me lose my own humanity. Would I end up just like them?

Or maybe I was being too emotional. Was I the one who was out of place?

Everyone else seemed so calm while I was the only one in turmoil, making me feel like I was the odd one.

‘No, that’s not right. It’s these people who are strange,’ I reminded myself.

It wasn’t a short time—twelve long years that I had spent with Izar.

So, of course, mourning his loss wasn’t strange at all.

But the shock of his death seemed to be clouding my judgment, making everything feel distorted.

I couldn’t take it anymore. I shot up from my seat abruptly, unable to bear the weight of my thoughts. Lenarc, who was about to pour himself another glass of water, looked up at me.

But he didn’t stop me. Even as I slumped my shoulders and walked out of his room in silence, he didn’t say a word or try to hold me back.

I didn’t care about the rest of the day’s plans. All I wanted was to collapse onto my bed and sleep, bury myself under the covers, and escape.

If Lenarc or Father had any shred of human decency left, they’d leave me alone for a while.

At least until the engagement ceremony in a week.