Chapter 5 — I Married My Fiancé’s Younger Brother
Three days later, at the Imperial Palace.
“…Yes, I’m terribly sorry, Lady Carnelutti.”
After spending several days buried in bed, sulking under the weight of Father’s scolding, I finally gave in—and went to find Khalid.
“Do you think you have time to waste like this? You haven’t even gone to see the Crown Prince yet!”
The commanding tone of my father’s voice from hours ago still echoed in my head.
He’d dragged me out of bed, puffy face and all, and forced me to stand.
“You got along just fine with the former crown prince. What reason do you have to treat the current one any differently? Go. Now.”
With the fury of a demon, he barked at me, then ordered my maid Laura to wash me and dress me appropriately.
I didn’t bother replying—not because I agreed, but because refusing would only make things worse. It was the only small rebellion I could afford.
But in the Empire of Veldemar, disobedient children were treated no better than traitors.
And I was the daughter of a noble house, bearing the full weight of Father’s expectations.
Even if I wanted to scream, “Just leave me alone!”—I couldn’t.
Next thing I knew, I was sitting in a carriage on my way to the palace.
And now that I was finally at Khalid’s residence…
He was gone, as if he’d predicted my visit.
“He was definitely here this morning…”
“Asking where he went won’t help, I’m afraid. You’ve got it rough too, Head Maid.”
I had heard shortly after the funeral that Khalid was swiftly appointed Crown Prince.
Apparently, the shock of Izar’s death had led to the decision being made in haste, without any elaborate ceremonies. The only thing Khalid agreed to was moving into the main palace.
Or so they said. But “agree” was hardly the word I’d use. It had been three days and Khalid was still staying in his old residence as the Second Prince.
Even when the attendants asked when he planned to relocate, he simply ignored them.
“I’m truly sorry. At this point, he’s practically a master at ditching his guards…”
The head maid of the Second Prince’s palace bowed her head, flustered.
Behind her, the knights who had failed to track Khalid looked like they were about to cry—despite their hulking frames.
I couldn’t help but wonder if they made those same faces every time Khalid pulled one of his vanishing acts.
Without saying anything more, I turned and left the palace.
Laura, my maid who had accompanied me from the Carnelutti estate, followed close behind.
Now that I thought about it, I hadn’t stepped foot outside the estate since Izar’s funeral.
Glancing back at her, I murmured casually,
“The weather’s gorgeous today. What a waste, coming all the way to see Khalid just to get rejected.”
“Oh, Lady Renata…”
It really was beautiful. Early winter sun, gentle and warm; the breeze, crisp and cold.
My breath fogged in the air, but the soft white fox-fur cloak draped around me warded off the chill.
“Since we’re already out, maybe we should stop by De Vuina Boutique on the way ho—ah! Sir Cassian.”
Just as we were walking toward the carriage, a tall man approached from the opposite side.
I lifted my head and saw Cassian. In the sunlight, his clear golden eyes caught mine.
Despite his cold exterior, he had a surprisingly kind voice.
“That’s a lovely cloak you’re wearing, Lady Carnelutti.”
“You can call me Renata. You already allowed me to use your name, didn’t you?”
“…Then, Miss Renata, have you been well? And where are you coming from today?”
With his sharp jawline and long eyes, there was something almost serpentine about Cassian.
I forced a neutral expression as I answered.
“From the Second Prince’s palace.”
“Ah. Looking for Khalid?”
“…Maybe.”
I wasn’t about to admit it outright. My pride wouldn’t allow it. So I dodged the question. Cassian chuckled, then lowered his gaze slyly.
“This is a secret, but… actually, Khalid was with me just a little while ago.”
“Oh… Then where is he now?”
“He’d be annoyed if I told you.”
“That doesn’t matter. He doesn’t like me anyway.”
Cassian burst out laughing.
What’s so funny? I didn’t find any of this amusing. I just waited quietly for his answer.
He hid a grin behind the back of his reddened hand and finally spoke.
“He’s at… 3rd Street, Kzeelin.”
* * *
Kzeelin, 3rd Street.
“L-let’s just go back, my lady. Please? This place really isn’t safe for the two of us…”
Cassian had told me Khalid was at Kzeelin, one of the most dangerous areas in the capital.
He even warned me that it was no place for a noblewoman to be wandering alone, and advised me not to go.
When I first heard him say that, I wondered how bad it could possibly be.
Now that I was here in person—I understood completely.
Kzeelin 3rd Street was so rough, it made me question whether this was truly part of the capital.
Laura clung to my side, shivering, her round brown eyes darting nervously.
“We should head back and bring a proper escort. If something happens, we won’t even have bones left to recover!”
“But Khalid’s at the tavern just around this corner.”
“Eep. Fine! But if anything happens, I’m not taking the blame!”
“What do you mean? If something happens, you’re just as responsible as I am.”
“Lady Renata!”
Laura’s mouth fell open in shock, as if I’d just struck her with lightning. I grabbed her arm and turned into the alley.
Begging old men in rags, wounded veterans missing limbs from the war, filthy orphans who looked like they’d never bathed in their lives.
The shopkeepers in barely-standing stalls watched every passerby with sharp, fearful eyes—worried about thieves.
And in every alley, there was at least one drunkard, slurring at full volume in broad daylight.
“I-is the Second Pr— I mean, the Crown Prince really in a place like this?”
Laura whispered from beside me.
“He’s a freak. Places like this are exactly his style.”
“Excuse me?!”
I gently patted her back to calm her down, ignoring the stares of the vagrants.
Then, I opened the rickety tavern door that had appeared just ahead.
“Hahaha! Come on, Kal! Show ’em what you’ve got!”
“If Kal wins, drinks are on me tonight!”
“Says the guy who just ran from debt collectors!”
Their roaring voices were so loud they felt like they rattled my eardrums.
The tavern was… another world entirely.
The thick stench of aged wine, the sweaty musk of drunk men, and the damp, sticky air.
And the second I walked in, I felt every eye—full of unreadable, unpleasant intent—lock onto me.
I was thrown completely off balance. I’d been uncomfortable walking through the streets, sure—but this was worse.
I’d definitely come to the wrong place.
Because of that damned Khalid.
But it was pointless to dwell on that now. I’d chosen to come here. No one had dragged me.
Well… maybe fear of Father’s fury if I came back without seeing Khalid had played a part.
Smack. Thud. Smack, smack, thud!
“Aaargh!”
The tavern was larger than it looked from the outside.
Drunken men sat half-fallen onto broken chairs, eyes wide as they watched something intently.
They wiped wine from their beards with their sleeves and shouted.
“Four wins in a row!”
“Damn it, I bet on Wildo this time! That bastard Kal never gets tired!”
I didn’t have the courage to push through the crowd.
Instead, I stood on tiptoes, stretching my neck to see what was going on.
And then I saw it—a glint of brilliant gold in the dark, lightless room.
Taller than all the men around him by a full head—Khalid.
“You’re all too soft. This isn’t even fun.”
Khalid laughed lazily, dressed in some beat-up shirt and pants I didn’t recognize.
His shirt was missing several buttons, gaping open to reveal a lean, muscular chest.
And his pants were so short they barely reached his ankles—an eyesore, really.
Wait… those pants looked like the ones he wore at Barkalia Academy.
But he’d grown at least 20 centimeters since then. And yet, this Crown Prince was still wearing the same pants from years ago?
Khalid casually swung a heavy wooden sword over his shoulder, its size matching the length of his arm.
He looked down at a burly man collapsed at his feet, spitting blood and phlegm on the floor.
