Chapter 3 — I Married My Fiancé’s Younger Brother
I peeked through the fingers I had buried my face in and looked at Khalid. At some point, he had crouched down with his broad back hunched, staring directly at me.
His vivid eyes, like clear skies, gleamed like glass.
So clear that my tear-stained reflection was visible in them.
Sniffling, I abruptly turned my head away. His full lips, tinted red, parted slightly.
“Crying in front of me won’t change anything. No one here’s going to pity you. If you’re going to cry, at least do it in front of Izar’s coffin…”
“What’s the point? Izar’s not even inside that coffin…”
“Hah… Fine. Just calm down, will you? If anyone sees you, they’ll think I made you cry.”
He ran a hand down his face in frustration and started rummaging through his clothes. Who knew where he’d thrown his cravat—his shirt was half-unbuttoned and hung loosely on his frame.
From one of the sagging pockets of his wrinkled shirt, he pulled something out and thrust it into my hand.
It was a handkerchief. Clean, but carelessly crumpled—just like its owner.
How could even something like this reflect his personality so perfectly?
I gave a small, breathy laugh through my tears and pressed the handkerchief firmly to my damp cheeks.
“Don’t be so cold to me… I’m already at my limit, even if I don’t show it.”
“You’re showing it a lot, actually. And really? ‘Cold’? That’s not exactly a word I expected from a noble lady’s mouth.”
Apparently, Khalid had forgotten where I picked up such “unladylike” language.
Who was it, after all, that used to sneak past the palace guards just to teach me street slang and mischief?
“Right, this is all my fault now, huh?”
I shot him a look. He immediately understood.
Rubbing the small mole beneath his lip and jaw, he raised one strong eyebrow. His face—startlingly like Izar’s—left me briefly stunned. I stared at him in a daze.
“If you’re done crying, just go.”
“Go where?”
“Anywhere. Just… stop looking at me like that while thinking of someone else. It’s really unpleasant, you know.”
How… how did he know?
Startled by how accurately he read me, I quickly turned away and covered my eyes with the handkerchief again.
He had almost softened earlier, but now Khalid had fully returned to the version I knew too well: sharp-eyed, cold, and brimming with quiet hostility.
With his arms crossed, he tapped his bicep with a finger. Then, without warning, he stood up.
“Don’t get the wrong idea, Renata Carnelutti. I’m not here to replace Izar.”
“What are you talking about? Izar’s gone. You’re next in line for the throne—”
“Drop the act. What I’m saying is that I have no intention of marrying you as his stand-in.”
“But—”
“No buts.”
He cut me off flatly. With the sun at his back, I couldn’t read his expression anymore.
But even so…
There were so many things I wanted to say to Khalid.
And yet, a sudden wave of fatigue swept over me. It felt so overwhelming that I stayed quiet.
The sunlight pouring over his shoulders blinded me as I looked up at him. He stared down, his tall frame stiff, his beautiful face tensed.
Then, after a long silence, he twisted his lips into a smirk.
“Tell me, Renata. Would you marry anyone, so long as you get to be Empress?”
“…What? What kind of question is that?”
I opened my mouth, flustered. But I hesitated. Where was I even supposed to begin?
Yes, I want to be Empress. But it’s not because I personally want it—it’s because I have to.
Because my family wants it.
And Khalid…
This isn’t something you and I can decide on our own.
I wish he would stop pretending not to know that.
Marriage between nobles isn’t about love. It’s business between families.
And no matter what Khalid says, that marriage will go forward.
After Izar’s death, it was Emperor Ikalis II who immediately proposed marriage again—this time, in Khalid’s name. That’s how desperate the imperial finances were.
Given all that, how could Khalid dare act like he had the power to refuse me?
Sure, my family name was new and our nobility purchased—but the Carnelutti family was one of the wealthiest in the entire continent, not just the Empire.
There were plenty of aristocrats who wanted me as their daughter-in-law—excluding the royal family.
Yes, our noble title was bought only a generation ago. Yes, that offended the old blood.
But with war bankrupting the old houses left and right, even the Emperor elevated us from viscount to count in time for my coming-of-age ceremony.
After all, a family that would stand beside the imperial house had to be of count rank or higher.
So with everything already set in motion, I didn’t even get a chance to mourn Izar.
And yet Khalid… as if he has the right to stand there and judge me…
“Yeah. I want to be Empress.”
I admitted it, quietly but firmly. Even if I didn’t want to, it was still the truth.
His expression darkened. He looked at me with something close to contempt—like he’d just witnessed something pathetic.
His jaw tightened. He stared down at me coldly.
“So you really are just a puppet on strings.”
“…And you’re any different?”
That hit him. His expression faltered, if only briefly. I glared at him.
He wasn’t stupid. In fact, he was rather sharp.
So there was no way he didn’t understand how complicated this situation was.
And yet he chose to act like this?
I didn’t understand. And honestly, I didn’t feel like trying to.
The only thing I could see ahead of me was a future that promised nothing but unhappiness.
I squared my shoulders, pushed past him—and, unable to stop myself, deliberately slammed into his shoulder.
Bad idea.
Khalid trained with a sword every single day. His body was solid as stone.
In the end, I was the one clutching my sore shoulder in pain.
Back inside the cathedral, I sighed.
Now what was I going to tell Father and His Majesty?
Both of them clearly expected me to butter Khalid up and keep the peace.
* * *
On the carriage ride home, Father pressed a hand to his forehead as I explained what happened.
“…He said he won’t marry you?”
“It was just a childish outburst. I doubt even the prince thinks that’s a real possibility.”
“Of course. But still—did you have to argue with him?”
…Maybe I shouldn’t have told him anything.
All I wanted was to show him what kind of man his precious son-in-law would be.
But now, all the scolding was aimed at me.
I was too stunned to even defend myself. I sat there in silence.
“His brother died. Of course his nerves are raw.”
“I understand, but… what about me, Father?”
“…Mm. I know you’re hurting too, more than anyone. But you can’t afford to fall apart now.”
He didn’t say it outright, but his meaning was clear: make it work with Khalid.
More than anything, Father wanted to be related to the royal family by blood.
He wouldn’t tolerate anything that might jeopardize this second engagement.
“Your engagement ceremony is in one week. You’d better find a way to change his mind by then.”
“Even if I don’t, the ceremony will go on anyway, won’t it?”
“Yes, but… knowing that wild prince, who knows what kind of scene he might cause during it?”
As Father continued his lecture, the carriage rumbled along until we reached the gates of the grandest mansion in the capital.
As the wheels came to a stop, I squared my slumped shoulders.
He stepped out first, then offered his hand to escort me as I exited.
Placing my hand on his arm, I walked silently toward the house—already regretting everything I’d said.
