Looking for a Husband to Confine Me - Chapter 26.1

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Chapter 26.1

In the original story, Haroon Kisha could only return to being Kishan upon Bashar’s death. His half-brother’s demise would, therefore, benefit him.

The fact that the perpetrator, Pazl, was Haroon’s attendant was enough to raise suspicions that Haroon was the mastermind.

‘Bashar must have harbored similar suspicions.’

Yet, Bashar hadn’t shown any inclination to distance himself from Haroon. Did he possess concrete evidence exonerating Haroon, or did he simply not suspect his older half-brother at all?

If Haroon truly was behind it, Bashar needed to be separated from him. There was no telling when Haroon might strike again.

“Hmm….”

Haroon, practically sprawled on the sofa, drawled, his face etched with boredom. His gaze finally landed on me.

“Hazel, was it?”

“Amelia Hazel, Your Highness.”

“Thanks to you, my brother’s life was saved.”

“To be precise, it wasn’t me, but Sir Damian. I simply happened to be there.”

I repeated to Haroon the same words I’d just spoken to Ray, but he seemed to barely register them, offering only a cursory nod. He didn’t appear genuinely grateful either.

I glanced sideways at Bashar Kisha. He remained seated, his expression as stoic as when I’d entered the drawing-room. Everything seemed to be met with a dry, disinterested response. The only time Bashar reacted was when Haroon uttered his name.

“In any case, thanks to the Lady, Bashar was saved. I shall offer you a reward.”

I mean, to be precise, I didn’t save him. But to them, to Haroon Kisha, it seemed a trivial matter. He simply accepted what he wanted to hear.

“I don’t expect a reward.”

“That won’t do. Even though we’re here studying abroad, we cannot neglect a benefactor of the royal family.”

His gaze implied an invitation to name my desire. My silence prompted Rettie, beside me, to nudge my side. Through gritted teeth, she whispered, just loud enough for me to hear, “Amelia, what are you doing? His Highness is asking what you want.”

“….”

“Surely you’re not planning to play the saint, are you? Hmm?”

I ignored her prodding fingers and paid her no attention.

“Hey, Amelia Hazel!”

Rettie, who had been whispering, lost control of her voice, loud enough to attract the attention of the princes around us.

“Hm?” Haroon tilted his head, hearing Rettie’s voice instead of my own.

“And you are?”

“My younger sister, Your Highness. She accompanied me today as my attendant.”

Rettie, her eyes meeting the prince’s, offered an awkward smile and hurriedly spoke, “My apologies, Your Highness. Rettie Hazel.”

It seemed this incident would allow Rettie to converse with Haroon, but the prince showed no interest in her. Instead, he returned to the unanswered question of my reward.

“I see. In any case, I hear the Hazel County is facing financial difficulties. If you wish, I can settle those debts.”

“Gasp!” Rettie covered her mouth with both hands, inhaling sharply. I could sense the smile forming behind her hands. She tugged at my clothes, urging me to accept.

“It’s alright, Your Highness. It’s true that the County is facing financial difficulties, but these are troubles of the Hazel family’s own making. Therefore, we must resolve them ourselves.”

“Is that so?”

“Amelia!” Rettie’s whisper coincided with Haroon’s indifferent reply. I looked at Rettie, silently urging her to be quiet, but she simply glared back.

‘Receiving help from Haroon Kisha would only be a temporary fix.’

Even if the mountain of debt vanished instantly, it would only accumulate again, thanks to my family. It might even grow larger than before. They had to take responsibility for their actions; I had no intention of helping them.

“Or perhaps you desire a government position.”

At Haroon’s words, Kelliard, standing among the knights, visibly flinched. I pretended not to notice. His harsh gaze landed on me, but it felt like nothing more than a tickle.

“That’s also unnecessary. I’m not fit to assist in matters of state.”

My repeated refusals caused Haroon’s eyebrow to arch further.

“Hmm, then…”

The moment his golden eyes shifted to his brother, Bashar Kisha, he spoke, “What about Bashar?” A smile played on his lips, as if pleased with his own idea.

“…Brother.”

Bashar, who had remained silent, finally spoke, lifting his head to meet Haroon’s gaze. But Haroon was focused on my reaction.