WFMW 38

Chapter 38

Why Does It Have to Be My Brother?

April 7, 2024

At Sither’s blunt remark, Lady Briar let out a disbelieving laugh.

Even if I really did something wrong, shouldn’t my own child at least try to understand what could have driven his mother to such an act?

But instead of understanding her heart, her son was threatening her like some ungrateful wretch.

Lady Briar frowned and replied sharply.

“Are you really going to talk to me like this?”

“What did I say?”

“Do you truly not understand who I’m doing all this for? It’s all for you.”

“If I don’t become the duke, does my life end or something?”

At his calm retort, Lady Briar’s thin patience finally snapped.

She slammed her teacup down on the table.

“I must have raised you wrong! You were always right within my reach, so you never learned how precious you were! That’s why you throw everything away so easily!”

The title of Duke. It was the highest of positions—one that bowed to no one in this country.

How could he talk about tossing it away so easily?

Do you know how much I sacrificed to bring our family to this point?!

But Sither couldn’t understand her words either.

“I’m not throwing it away easily! It wasn’t mine to begin with!”

“You’re the eldest son of the Granite family! The heir! How is it not yours?”

“Mother.”

A long-forgotten face flashed through Sither’s mind—his younger brother, so distant that even his features had become faint.

Grisha Granite.

If Sither hadn’t been born, that boy would have grown up peacefully and been loved without hardship.

[Was it you, brother? The one who made my mother die?]

Just remembering that moment made Sither’s chest tighten painfully.

“Do you truly feel no guilt at all toward Grisha, Mother?”

His voice trembled slightly. Lady Briar lifted her chin and replied coldly.

“Why should I feel guilty?”

“…I suppose I can’t change the past. But Mother.”

Yes, that was the kind of person she was.

Sither stopped himself from saying more; there was no point. Instead, he met her eyes squarely.

“If you lay a hand on Nelly, I won’t stand by and watch.”

“Nelly? Who is that?”

“My wife.”

At his warning, Lady Briar’s mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water. Then she shrieked.

“You—are you out of your mind?! Don’t tell me you actually love that walking corpse of a woman?!”

“Yes. Thanks to you, I realized that a quiet woman is far more lovable.”

“Sither Granite!”

Her shriek nearly split his eardrums. He raised a hand dismissively.

“I know what you did to the previous duchess.”

“…W-What are you talking about?”

“I have proof. Until now, I kept silent out of filial duty. But if you ever touch my wife, I can’t promise I’ll stay quiet.”

His cold eyes locked on his mother.

“I hope you’ll remember that.”

Lady Briar trembled violently, glared daggers at her son, then stormed out with heavy footsteps.

Left alone, Sither scratched his head and slumped into his chair.

God, I’m tired.

The exhaustion was not physical but mental.

Dragging up the incident with the former duchess had made it worse.

I’d better stay close to Nelly for a while. Mother’s bound to start acting out.

He pressed his fingers to his aching eyes, and naturally, thoughts of Nelly filled his mind again.

[Come to think of it, I guess my death wouldn’t really be a loss for you, would it?]

“Ah, seriously…”

He clenched his fist reflexively, and the sofa armrest crumbled to dust under his grip.

Sither pressed his temple with a groan.

How can she say something like that, blinking those big eyes so innocently?

Did she really see him as such a cold man—a man who would let his contract wife die just because it was convenient?

I know I’m not exactly warm, but still…

No, according to Haile, he’d actually been quite gentle and considerate. So why was she the only one who couldn’t see it?

He felt restless inside, though outwardly he looked the same as always—grim and unreadable.

And honestly, she hadn’t been wrong.

Mother sent assassins. The whole “contract marriage” thing clearly benefits me. Nelly’s the one risking her life to keep it going.

Just as she said, even if those assassins killed her, it wouldn’t damage the contract itself.

It was only natural that Nelly, who bore all the risk, wanted time to think about their marriage.

Still, I don’t want a divorce.

Brushing the powdered fabric from his hand, Sither clenched his fist again.

It didn’t make sense, but in that short time, he’d fallen for her completely.

I don’t even understand myself.

Nelly was different from every woman he’d ever met.

She didn’t speak softly or elegantly, couldn’t wear dresses properly, and never braided or styled her hair. She probably didn’t even know how.

She left her vegetables untouched and barely ate a handful of food.

And she constantly fainted because she didn’t know her own limits.

Yet somehow, all of that shook him to his core.

She had no idea what he felt, kept saying things that made his blood boil—and still, his heart raced for her.

Still, I shouldn’t have yelled at her today. I should’ve let her think clearly and decide on her own.

But divorce? The mere word made his fists tighten again.

He pictured her, then shook his head.

No. It’s not that I want to keep her here. I just want to protect her.

It was definitely love—but it was love that shouldn’t exist. His eyes darkened.

I realized it the day I learned how the former duchess died. A happy home is a luxury I can’t afford.

And yet, when they argued, he couldn’t help but imagine it—her standing beside him, smiling.

Bang!

Though Lady Briar had left, a loud crash rang out from Sither’s office. A startled subordinate burst in.

“Wh-What happened, sir?!”

He found Sither slumped over his desk, his forehead pressed to the table so hard that a circular dent had formed in the wood.

But of course, his body was so well-trained that not a single mark remained on him. Sither brushed his bangs aside coolly.

“…Nothing. I just felt pathetic.”

He’d slammed his head in frustration—because he was drinking imaginary soup before getting the rice, as the saying went.

But the subordinate couldn’t read minds and instead came up with a dramatic interpretation.

A swordsman tormented by emotional pain after clashing with his mother.

As expected of the Captain!

He looked at Sither with shining eyes.

“Sir, whatever choice you make, I’ll support you! You’ll always be our captain, no matter what!”

“You don’t even know what I’m thinking about.”

“Even so—please remember this. Humans live to be happy.”

He had no idea what was really going on, but his random words were exactly what Sither needed to hear.

Happiness, huh…

He was right. Sither had been thinking far too much.

“Yeah. Thanks for the advice.”

Rising from his seat, Sither patted the man’s shoulder, grabbed his jacket, and left the office.

As he headed for the door, the subordinate blinked.

“Where are you going, sir?”

“Home. Tell them I’m on a week’s leave.”

“What?”

He hadn’t even confessed his feelings properly yet, and he might very well be setting himself up for unrequited love.

But still—

I want to be by her side. For now, that’s enough.

He’d tell Nelly the truth this time.

That no matter what, even if a fearsome dragon came for her, he would protect her.

So please—just keep this contract marriage a little longer.

Worst case, I’ll just say the Granite family doesn’t do divorces. They’d probably let it slide as tradition anyway.

With that thought, Sither returned home quickly.

The moment he opened the front door, he spotted Haile carrying a tray of tea.

Haile jumped at the sight of him.

“Captain! What are you doing here?”

“I’m on leave. But…”

Sither’s eyes fell on the tray—there were two cups of tea.

Haile shrugged.

“Oh, we have a guest.”

A guest? A bad feeling stirred in Sither’s gut.

He moved quickly toward the drawing room.

He didn’t even need to ask where—they were easy to find.

“Ha-ha.”

Nelly’s bright laughter spilled out from the room.

It was the first time he’d ever heard her laugh out loud.

Sither’s face hardened.

“….”

Through the open door, he saw her smiling radiantly—and across from her sat a man with black hair.

Funny, really. He’d just been thinking how he could barely remember that face.

But the instant he saw him, he knew.

Grisha Granite.

His half brother was sitting in his drawing room.