Chapter 2 — I Married My Fiancé’s Brother
“You’re going to have a hard time, Renata. Khalid… well, he’s not going to make things easy for you.”
“…I already figured as much.”
Emperor Icalis II and I exchanged a glance, our expressions equally sour.
Khalid—who would soon inherit the title of Crown Prince in his deceased brother’s place—was now set to become my husband overnight. Would he accept me so easily?
I didn’t need to guess the answer. It was already painfully clear. This path was going to be hard—possibly unbearable.
Suppressing a heavy sigh, I turned to leave.
The moment I moved, the whispers began—just as I expected. Sharp stares from the nobles lined up behind the emperor cut into me. And though they pretended to be whispering, they made sure their voices were loud enough for me to hear.
“…Look at her. Not a single tear, even though the Crown Prince just died. Cold-hearted witch.”
“So shameless. In our time, commoners who bought their titles wouldn’t dare even speak to ‘real’ nobility.”
“Well… I suppose times have changed.”
That last voice—who was that? I instinctively turned to look, only to silently curse myself.
Father had warned me many times, “Most nobles won’t accept us, and there’s no changing that for now. Just ignore it.”
“Shall I open the door for you?”
Just as I turned my head back, a pale, elegant hand reached across my shoulder.
Startled, I blinked and looked up to find a man with soft golden-brown hair and an unreadable expression.
“Sir Haseus…”
“Just Cassian is fine. Using only my family name feels a bit stiff, doesn’t it?”
Now that I heard his voice clearly, I realized it had been him who said “Times have changed” earlier. Cassian Haseus—heir to the House of Haseus, which had split from the Imperial Family a generation ago.
He had also fought alongside Izar in the recent war, serving as vice commander, if I remembered correctly.
A vague memory surfaced: Izar preparing for deployment with Cassian standing at his side. I pushed the thought away and spoke.
“Then, thank you.”
“Looking for Khalid, are you?”
There were faint scars across the back of Cassian’s hand as he held the door.
I stared at the slowly moving fingers, saying nothing. When I didn’t reply, he asked again.
“If not, are you maybe looking for a quiet place to cry?”
“No. I’m really here to see His Highness.”
“I thought so. If I had to guess, he’s probably in the central garden.”
Cassian narrowed his sharp eyes and opened the chapel doors. A gust of cold wind blew through an open window down the hall, scattering my carefully pinned black hair.
I quickly reached up to hold it in place and thanked Cassian. He nodded and gestured toward the direction of the garden.
“I could come with you, if you like. The layout here is a bit of a maze.”
“No, it’s fine. I think I can find it on my own.”
“Oh? That’s a shame. I was hoping to use you as an excuse to escape this depressing atmosphere.”
A faint smile tugged at the corners of his lips—his first expression the whole time.
I had no idea how to respond, so I just gave him an awkward smile.
Noticing my discomfort, he stepped aside.
“Guess I’m holding you up. Go on, then.”
“Thank you.”
“You’re not even going to object?”
“…Oh, I just…”
“Relax. I was joking.”
Joking? At a funeral? I stared at him like he was some kind of weirdo. He looked normal enough, but now I wasn’t so sure.
Then I turned and stepped out in my black shoes.
A few minutes later, I stood in the central garden, inhaling deeply.
Despite it being that in-between time of year—neither fall nor winter—the garden was vibrant and lush.
Thanks to an ancient preservation spell cast by a long-departed mage, everything here remained eternally green.
It was ironic. The entire continent, including the empire, still bore traces of mages’ legacy. And yet the mages themselves had been wiped out by systematic extermination policies.
“…Hmph.”
I shook off the wandering thoughts. I was clearly using them to distract myself from the uncomfortable task ahead—seeking out Khalid first.
Khalid, where are you?
At the heart of the garden stood a marble fountain, decorated with a finely carved cherub. Water trickled from the horn it held.
Surrounding it were priceless flowers and fruit trees, all carefully cultivated.
I stood for a moment, admiring the idyllic beauty, then looked up.
Back when we were students at Barkalia, Khalid had a habit of skipping class.
He’d climb tall trees to read or nap, avoiding responsibility whenever he could.
Was he a tree spirit in a past life? Somehow, that didn’t fit his image at all.
“…Really, what a loafer. What are you doing up there?”
It didn’t take long to find him. Beyond a wall of blooming vines stood the tallest tree in the garden—and sure enough, Khalid was perched in it.
If he were still a lanky kid, maybe I’d understand. But now? A grown man, nearly six-foot-three with broad shoulders, still climbing trees?
He wore a sharp black suit, facing away from me, not even acknowledging my presence.
“What are you doing up there? Hiding so no one sees you cry? That’s a bit childish, don’t you think?”
“…God, you’re loud.”
Izar and Khalid were twins, born on the same day—but that’s where the similarities ended.
Izar had silver hair and violet eyes. Khalid had golden hair and pale blue eyes.
Both were sons of the Empress, yet Khalid had not inherited the imperial family’s signature violet gaze. His eyes came from her side of the bloodline.
Because of that, he was never chosen to be crown prince. Izar was raised under strict royal tutelage, while Khalid lived with far more freedom.
Naturally, that shaped their personalities too.
Izar was calm and mild-mannered. Khalid was hot-tempered and willful.
Oh, and one more difference: Izar had a beauty mark under his left eye. Khalid had his under his right lip.
“Just leave me alone. Honestly, it’d be better if you disappeared before saying another word.”
That tone—disdainful and bitter—was not something you’d expect from someone soon to be Crown Prince.
Khalid’s voice was rougher than usual, irritated, as he barked from the tree.
“How long’s it been since Izar died? And you’re already out here looking for me?”
“His Majesty told me to come.”
“…And you actually listened? Whatever. I’m not in the mood to talk to you.”
He didn’t even glance in my direction. When I mentioned Icalis II, he raked his golden hair in frustration.
His hands—large and scarred—reminded me of Cassian’s earlier. But Khalid’s skin was darker, sun-tanned.
Cassian’s skin was pale—naturally resistant to sunburn. Izar had soft, fair skin too, since this last war had been his first.
But Khalid had gone through four deployments. His complexion now resembled that of a seasoned soldier—bronzed, roughened.
Callused palms, long fingers with thick joints, neatly trimmed nails…
In those small details, Khalid resembled Izar more than even their father, Emperor Icalis.
Everything about Khalid just reminded me of Izar.
Maybe Cassian was right. I should’ve found a place to cry instead.
Ugh. I’m so mad. Why did Izar have to die? Why did he leave me alone?
I sank to the ground, not caring that it was dirt, and rubbed my burning eyes.
“Even if you throw a tantrum, I’m not climbing down—”
Rustle—rustle.
Leaves stirred above me. Branches shook.
“…Shit. Renata, are you crying?”
A thump followed—Khalid had landed. I didn’t even need to look to know he was scowling in annoyance.
No doubt those sharp eyes—so like Izar’s—were furrowed now.
The twins often shared little mannerisms like that.
“I asked if you’re crying. Can’t you hear me? Renata? …Hey, are you ignoring me?”
“I’m not crying. So just go away.”
“Thought you told me to come down.”
“I never said that.”
No matter how hard I tried to remember, I was pretty sure I hadn’t said anything of the sort.
