I Became the Younger Brother of the Villainess

Once Count Hayley was back on his feet, I informed him of the events that had transpired during his incapacitation: the misdeeds of his wife, sons, and youngest daughter, and Christina’s sacrifice to save the family.

The count was furious.

The wife and youngest daughter were exiled to her family’s estate. The two sons were stripped of their inheritance rights.

As for Christina, the daughter who had given up everything for her family, the count could only bow his head in shame.

That was a matter for him to resolve. Christina, as kind as she was, would likely forgive him, and despite his flaws, his love for her seemed genuine.

Once the situation had been settled, the count sought me out. Though it had only been a week since he left his sickbed, he seemed remarkably robust.

“I do not know how I can repay the grace shown to me by the Duke of Chepes.”

He knelt before me, apologizing profusely.

“There is no need for apologies,” I replied. “I was moved by your daughter’s devotion.”

With Christina now the only legitimate heir to the Hayley family, the count hesitantly asked about her future.

“I’ve already made her my vassal. I won’t change my mind.”

Hearing this, he nodded meekly.

Still, not wanting to leave the position of heir vacant indefinitely, he asked one final question.

“If Christina were to have children, would they return to Hayley?”

“To Hayley they will go,” I affirmed.

I reassured Count Hayley, subtly hinting that Christina would remain under my care and that her children would one day carry on the family’s legacy. The count, visibly relieved, broke into a hearty laugh.

“In that case, this old man will need to endure until my grandchildren are grown. I suppose I’ll have to live a long, long time.”

Hmm.

Thanks to my blood, he was now healthier than ever. Thirty more years should be manageable. I nodded in agreement.

Tomorrow, I’d return to Chepes territory. I had already spent too much time here in Hayley. Still, securing Christina had been worth the effort.

Once I returned, I needed to figure out how to break the lock on my sister’s affection. Time was running out—less than a month remained.

Deep down, I knew she didn’t lack feelings for me. I had grown confident that even if I enrolled in the Academy, she might not fall for the prince after all.

But what if there’s something I don’t know?

What if she does end up liking him?

How would I react?

Would I work to stop her from becoming the villainess who drags our family to ruin?

And if so, how?

More troublingly, was it truly the potential ruin of our house that motivated me?

Was that really it?

A strange unease settled over me. I called for a servant to bring wine, hoping a little drink might help me sleep.

What should I say when I face her tomorrow?

No matter what, I always became clumsy and unsure in my sister’s presence. It had been the same when she caught me entranced by her charm, during our duels—always.

Why is that?

Lost in thought, a soft knock at the door interrupted me.

“May I come in?”

It was Christina’s voice. Instead of responding, I extended my shadow to unlock and open the door. She stepped inside, glancing at the undulating shadows with a faint smile, holding a bottle of wine.

“I had a servant fetch that.”

“I told them I’d bring it myself. I belong to you, after all… or do you dislike that?”

I shook my head. In just a few days under the same roof, she’d grown bolder—more audacious than I had expected.

“What brings you here?”

“You’ll be leaving tomorrow. I thought I’d attend to you before you depart.”

Probing her for ulterior motives felt strangely exhausting tonight, so I simply nodded.

“Very well.”

With practiced ease, Christina uncorked the bottle and poured a modest amount into my glass, just enough to coat the bottom. Holding the bottle gracefully, she stood ready, like a seasoned attendant.

“You’re quite skilled at this. Have you been practicing?”

“Of course. My room is practically a graveyard of cheap wine bottles now.”

Though her eyes were perpetually closed, it felt like she winked at me. I couldn’t quite fathom how she managed that.

I raised the glass, skipping the usual ritual of savoring the aroma or proper etiquette—I wasn’t in the mood. Tilting it to my lips, I took a shallow sip.

Gulp.

I wasn’t sure if the sound was mine or Christina’s, as she nervously watched me.

“…It’s good.”

It wasn’t the wine’s intoxication I felt, but the sinking weight of melancholy.

Thrown into this game-world, I had decided to seduce my sister to survive.

Yet, the nature of my feelings for her grew increasingly unclear. Was it a falsehood crafted by my survival instincts, a base and twisted desire, or genuine affection?

She had always been kind to me. Despite my feigned amnesia, she offered her warmth and protection without question.

Even though I wasn’t truly her sibling—just a foreign soul occupying Scarlett Chepes’s body—I had come to see her as my sister.

I leaned on her. I depended on her.

The day I resolved to step out of my room, to seduce her for the sake of survival…

Were the lustful feelings I harbored that day fabricated by my selfish need to use her?

Or had I truly harbored such desires for someone I considered my sister?

If my desire was genuine, could I ever be forgiven for lusting after the sister I love?

And yet, I found myself justifying it with the thought: Isn’t my sister also drawn to me? If we both desired each other, how could it possibly be a sin?

…

“What about you?”

“Pardon?”

It seemed the restraint granted by my trait [Dignity] was failing me, as my tone slipped into the casualness I often displayed before my sister and Daisy. Though I knew nothing good would come of it, I continued, speaking as if intoxicated.

“You must hate me.”

“What…?”

Christina faltered, her words trailing off. I met her gaze directly. Her golden eyes, usually veiled in their natural squint, widened slightly, trembling with surprise.

She was beautiful. A noblewoman of pure virtue, yet one who would soon be tainted by my grasp.

“You know, don’t you? You understand what it means to give everything to me.”

“…Ah…”

She said nothing. I hadn’t expected an answer; my words were never meant to solicit one.

It was an outlet—a way to vent the sordid, filthy emotions that had nowhere else to go.

Which is why…

When something warm wrapped around me, pulling me into a tight embrace, I faltered.

“…What are you doing?”

I didn’t push her away. I didn’t even muster a weak struggle. Instead, I asked the question feebly, as if defeated.

“Whatever it is, you must’ve been through something difficult,” she replied softly.

“….”

“I’m your possession, Scarlet. No owner should have to mind the feelings of their property.”

Before I could retort—before I could ask what that was supposed to mean—her hand gently brushed over my hair, soothingly.

“I don’t hate you. It was my choice to become yours, wasn’t it?”

I stayed silent. Undeterred, she continued speaking in her soft, lilting tone.

“Don’t say I had no choice. I don’t know why you made that offer to me, but I’ve never thought of it as coercion.”

She was a kind person.

“Even if your methods were harsh, the future you threw my way was the only hope I could see in an otherwise hopeless situation.”

The kind of person who radiated warmth to everyone around her, indiscriminately.

“It’s what I wanted most. So, I’m truly happy right now.”

“And yet, how can I stand by and do nothing when the person who gave me happiness looks so burdened and sad?”

“I’ll say it again—owners don’t have to mind the feelings of their possessions, Scarlet.”

…

A flame that once offered its warmth to all now promised to burn solely for me.

“You speak well,” I murmured.

And so, I resolved to selfishly claim that warmth for myself.