Chapter 12
“Brother, say something. Don’t tell me you’re in cahoots with Syllie. Have people calling you a madman actually driven you insane?”
“Maybe so.”
Euclid replied with a lazy smile to his half-brother’s grinding interrogation.
“So what if a madman does something crazy one more time? It’s not like it’ll be the end of the world, is it?”
After finishing, Euclid winked at Sylaria. His playful wink, so at odds with his usually expressionless face, made her mouth part in surprise.
“What can I do, little brother, when Lady Sylaria and I have an overwhelmingly high match rate?”
“…Is that really true?”
“How high is your rate with her? With me, it should be at least over eighty.”
Bringing up the match rate left Arendtert at a loss for words. When it comes to choosing a Purifier, nothing matters more than compatibility.
Before marriage—especially before engagement—there was no way he could hold onto Sylaria with only their pitiful thirty-one percent match rate as an excuse.
If Arendtert and Sylaria had been longtime lovers, or if there was some deep feeling between them, it might be a different story.
But wasn’t this a relationship based solely on compatibility?
“I can’t allow it.”
Arendtert spoke the words as if chewing them. But in that moment, everyone present could see he had already surrendered. His expression and tone were heavy with defeat.
Sylaria saw the possibility of escaping from his grasp.
As long as Euclid became her shield, she would never have to suffer the misfortunes of her previous life again.
‘How lucky I must be.’
Compared to her last life, which was filled with nothing but misery, perhaps this time the gods had finally granted her their blessing.
Sylaria felt reassured by Arendtert’s deflated attitude. She even offered him a gentle smile.
“You’ll be able to find someone who matches you even better than I do, very soon.”
She spoke as if comforting him. In fact, he had found her replacement quite quickly—one even more efficient than Sylaria herself.
“No, Syllie. There’s no one like that for me.”
Arendtert replied, oozing regret. Sylaria, who had been looking at him with disgust, turned her gaze down the corridor.
After fixing her eyes on that spot for a moment, she frowned slightly and spoke gently.
“…So what about Grizelle? Why did you leave her out here?”
“She’s probably off in a corner sipping wine somewhere. Like I care.”
Arendtert answered grumpily, then abruptly looked up, scowling and twisting his lips.
“Don’t tell me you’re trying to push that country bumpkin onto me?”
“Grizelle is a longtime friend of mine.”
“Incredible.”
Arendtert shook his head and scoffed.
“So after latching onto my brother, you’re trying to pawn off any old woman onto me? I don’t have the slightest bit of interest in a girl who reeks of the countryside.”
“You never know what the future holds.”
“That’s my line. Syllie, the match rate can be raised easily enough. Just you wait. My match rate with you will surpass even my brother’s.”
“We’ll see. Why don’t you head back to the banquet hall? Her Majesty the Empress is probably looking for you.”
“You want me to go alone?”
“What else?”
Sylaria crossed her arms and spoke indifferently. Arendtert glanced between her and Euclid, then clicked his tongue.
“We’ll finish this later.”
As you wish.
Sylaria wore a look of indifference. Angered, Arendtert stormed down the corridor.
“What a pitiful sight, running away with his tail between his legs.”
Euclid commented with feigned bravado, looking after his retreating half-brother in disdain. Sylaria gave a small laugh and replied,
“Your Highness did scare him off.”
“Enough with the ‘Your Highness’. So, who’s Grizelle all of a sudden? Is she a Purifier too?”
“Yes, something like that.”
Sylaria lifted her eyebrows slightly. A moment ago, when Arendtert was clinging to her, she had spotted the hem of a white dress at the end of the hallway.
So she’d just tried probing a little. Arendtert’s reaction was even more extreme than she’d expected.
A country bumpkin, was it? A girl who reeks of the countryside.
‘Grizelle’s pillow will be soaked tonight.’
To think the man she admired would talk about her like that. How pitiful.
But compared to what’s about to happen to Grizelle, that was nothing at all.
Discussion
0 CommentsNo comments yet.