Chapter 6: 6

After that, Bertille continued to refuse the second prince’s visits, but thanks to the servants’ gossip, she occasionally heard news about Minori.

The otherworlder had been taken a liking to by the queen, and at her recommendation, the second prince was looking after her.

At first, there had been a strange distance between them, but they were gradually growing closer.

It seemed that the annulment of his engagement with Bertille might be near.

It was also said that the otherworlder possessed healing powers, among other things.

More than that, what concerned Bertille was whether Minori had told the truth.

If Minori had told the second prince that it was she who had been by his side as Bertille for the past six months, then it would not be strange for letters related to that to arrive from him.

However, since hearing that Minori had appeared, Bertille had been reading his letters, yet they contained nothing but words of concern for her health, apologies, and requests to meet and talk.

Perhaps realizing that rumors about the otherworlder had spread widely outside, the most recent letter even stated, ‘I do not intend to annul our engagement, regardless of how the rumors are being told.’

(Why hasn’t she said anything?)

Even from Minori’s side, there should have been some kind of action toward the Raspede household, yet she had heard nothing of the sort.

Of course, it was possible that the second prince had simply not written about it, but—could it be that Minori did not have the memories of the six months she spent in this house?

Or perhaps…

(Sympathy?)

Before Minori’s possession, Minori had already noticed that Bertille’s relationship with the Raspede family and her fiancé had not been good.

It had been obvious from their behavior when Minori had first possessed her.

And as Minori’s relationship with them improved, she began to feel something like guilt toward the real Bertille.

That she was taking for herself the kindness that Bertille should have received.

If that feeling still remained, it was not impossible, given Minori’s personality, that she was holding back so as not to take Bertille’s family or fiancé away.

Even though it was Minori—not Bertille—who had built those familial and romantic relationships.

There had never been anything meant for Bertille from the start.

Everything had been obtained by Minori, and even if it were handed over now, it would not bring Bertille any joy.

Bertille, who had been sitting on the sofa, put strength into her legs to stand.

However, the moment she stood up, she collapsed back down as if falling.

The force of her hand hitting the table made a loud noise.

Unable to move as strength left her body, Bertille’s eyes widened.

Her pupils trembled with agitation.

She bit down hard on her lip.

A week later, as Bertille was preparing to go out with the help of her maid, Tristan and her second brother, Casimir, came to her room.

The two were twins, so they resembled each other, but their atmospheres were different.

Tristan had sharp eyes, spoke roughly, and had a blunt personality, while Casimir had gentle eyes and a soft tone, carrying himself like a gentleman.

Although their personalities differed, they got along well, and it was Casimir’s role to smooth things over when Tristan caused trouble.

However, neither of them had ever displayed gentlemanly behavior toward Bertille.

Rather than stopping Tristan, the two often came together just to harass her.

So there was nothing surprising about the two of them being together today.

“What do you mean you’re going to the royal palace?”

Tristan asked with a stern expression.

Bertille was indeed preparing to go to the royal palace.

She had sent a letter to the second prince—whose visits she had continued to refuse—saying that she would visit him instead, and he had immediately agreed.

Today was the day of that appointment.

Whether it was because they had not been informed or because they were dissatisfied with her going to the palace itself, it was obvious that the twin brothers were in a bad mood.

The maid seemed concerned about the two of them, but Bertille, sitting in front of the dresser, did not acknowledge her brothers and instead asked the maid to comb her hair and attach a hair ornament.

She told her there was no need for an elaborate style.

Although she was going to meet her fiancé, she had no intention of dressing up unnecessarily.

It was obvious that it would be meaningless.

“I heard you’re also arranging to meet the otherworlder, not just His Highness.”

As if expecting no response from Bertille, who was deliberately ignoring them, Tristan continued speaking.

“Are you going to warn her or something? His Highness said he’ll definitely marry you, so there’s nothing to worry about. You can use healing magic too, so there’s no way he’d choose some otherworlder over you.”

“…Heh.”

Bertille let out a small laugh without thinking, and both brothers looked puzzled.

“Why are you laughing?”

Casimir, who had been silent until now, finally spoke.

For someone who had spent over seventeen years smoothly delivering nothing but sarcasm to Bertille, his voice was unusually restrained and lacked its usual amusement.

Even that was amusing, and Bertille’s lips remained curved.

(“Some otherworlder,” huh.)

Even though they themselves had been captivated by that very otherworlder, what a way to speak.

Though they knew nothing, it was rather laughable.

If Minori heard it, she might feel hurt.

“It seems you are mistaken, but I have no lingering feelings for His Highness. There is no way I could continue to love someone who could not even fulfill the basic duties and etiquette of a fiancé.”

“…Then why are you going?”

“Why should I tell you that?”

As she plainly showed that she saw no need to answer them, the maid’s hands left Bertille’s hair.

When she checked in the mirror, the hair ornament had been carefully placed.

“Thank you.”

“N-No…”

When Bertille thanked her with a smile, the maid lowered her face shyly.

A girl of the same generation, pure and without malice, who did not look down on Bertille.

If someone like this had been by her side from the beginning, perhaps Bertille’s life would have had a little more color.

“Hey—”

At the same moment Tristan called out impatiently, a knock sounded at the door.

When Bertille gave permission with “Come in,” the one who entered was her eldest brother, Leandre.

Leandre, who was usually expressionless and difficult to read, was a handsome man who gave off a cold impression.

He had studied abroad in a neighboring country for many years, and even after graduating from university, he spent two more years there building connections, only returning home a few months after Minori had possessed Bertille.

Bertille could hardly remember ever having a conversation with him.

Like their father, he had avoided her.

Although it was not her preference, she was to go to the palace with Leandre, so he had likely come to escort her.

In the past, he would never have shown such consideration.

“Are you ready?”

“Yes.”

There was no warmth in the exchange, which was nothing more than a confirmation.

Bertille stood up from her chair and began to walk.

“Are you feeling unwell?”

As she passed by Leandre, he spoke to her, and she almost gasped.

However, she suppressed it.

“There is no such thing.”

As if to indicate she did not want unnecessary conversation, she added, “Let us go,” and left the room first.