Betrothed to My Sister's Ex

I absentmindedly counted the stars in the night sky. I had been doing this for hours.

On the balcony table sat a glass of early-harvest wine. Unlike aged wine, it had a young, vivid, and translucent red color.

It was just like Marie Shadelan’s… my fiancée’s hair color. I sighed.

“...Beautiful…”

“What’s so beautiful about that, master? Stop escaping from reality,” Mio said in a stern voice, slamming down the water pitcher.

I glared at her but took the water obediently.

“I’m not running away into alcohol. In fact, I’m in a pretty good mood.”

“That’s precisely proof you’re not facing reality,” she replied.

I asked what she meant, and Mio frowned deeply, placing her hands on her hips. She was merciless in moments like this.

“Marie refused the engagement.”

“Ugh… But… I definitely sent a proposal letter to the Shadelan family. And she came. I thought the engagement was already settled at that point.”

“That’s impossible. And you conveniently skipped a huge part of the story.”

I couldn’t argue and silently drank the water. Mio showed no mercy.

“You proposed to Anastasia Shadelan, the late eldest daughter of the Shadelan Family.”

“Ugh… But… that’s…”

“And she is Marie Shadelan, Anastasia’s younger sister.”

“...I see.”

“So the initial proposal is invalid. You’ve never actually proposed to Marie even once.”

“But that’s just how it happened!”

I raised my voice.

“Why on earth would the protagonist of the party be crouched alone in the dark!?”

“…Well, that’s exactly what happened, so it can’t be helped.”

Mio sighed and, unusually, made a grim face.

It wasn’t just me. She was also mistaken about the sisters’ positions and their names.

The blonde young lady was Marie. That night—the red-haired girl I fell in love with at first sight—was her elder sister, Anastasia Shadelan.

It was rumored even among the nobility that the Shadelan baronial family was in dire straits. They avoided social events under various excuses because they lacked even the money for travel.

And the invitations to their daughter’s birthday party were only sent to a few eligible bachelors.

In the early spring social season, my friend Ruifeng was laughing with the same invitation in hand.

“Wow, it’s blatantly obvious. They’re looking to make a political marriage with a wealthy or great noble family.”

“It’s downright base,” I sighed. I accepted some chocolate from a noble daughter who approached, thanked her, and turned away.

Ruifeng chuckled.

“But apparently, the Shadelan daughters are quite beautiful. I already have a fiancée, so I can’t try, but Cyrus, why don’t you give it a shot?”

“I have no interest in noble girls,” I said, and Ruifeng snorted.

“Yeah, yeah, I know. The ordinary noble girls hate the Eastern Republic as a barbaric land.”

“They don’t say it aloud, but it’s obvious from how they despise my skin and eye color.”

“Still, you’re popular, aren’t you?”

“That’s just because of my status, money, and looks. Aside from my coloring, my appearance is flawless.”

“You say that yourself.”

“I’d rather they just outright insult me. Laughing to my face while despising me and my mother with their eyes? How could I have children with something so repulsive! I don’t even want them in the garden!”

“Ah, you say stuff like that again. You know, that’s why you have so few servants and friends.”

“As long as I have Mio and Ruifeng, that’s enough.”

When I said that, my friend shrugged and smiled wryly.

“You’re a good man, Cyrus. I’m really looking forward to the kind of woman who will capture your heart.”

I fell silent and bit into the chocolate, thinking there was no way such a day would ever come.

Still, lifelong bachelorhood was not an option for me.

As a count and the only son of a ducal family, I couldn’t inherit the title unmarried, and I had an obligation to have children. The woman also had to be from a suitably noble family.