Betrothed to My Sister's Ex

Chapter 3 begins!

I am going to marry the man who once proposed to my sister.

His name is Count Kyros Granado. He is twenty-four years old, six years older than me—no, he has already turned twenty-five.

He is the next duke of Dirts Kingdom and the wealthiest man in the country. Tall enough to look up to, with a handsome face. Glossy black hair and sun-kissed skin—I already know that he inherits the blood of Ipsandros, a foreign land.

But more than that status, what captivated me most were his eyes. So beautiful that they could steal anyone’s heart at first glance, unmatched by any jewel, irreplaceable... a gentle gaze.

“Are you alright, Marie? Are you pushing yourself too hard?”

Lord Cyrus took my hand and spoke to me softly.

“I’m fine,” I replied.

In truth, my legs felt a bit unsteady. A mixture of nervousness, excitement, and feeling like I was living in a sweet dream.

Hand in hand with him, we walked down the stone-paved virgin road. Waiting ahead were my father and the Imam and Qadi—the clergy here in Ipsandros.

Around us were smiles, smiles, and more smiles. Familiar faces and strangers alike, countless people greeted us with smiles and applause.

Some, overcome with joy and excitement, had started to sing and dance on their own. Even the Imam and Qadi began stepping to the rhythm. This wedding was completely different from the solemn ceremonies of Dilz—a lively, festival-like celebration.

We glanced at each other and burst out laughing simultaneously. Lord Cyrus laughed heartily and gently took my hand.

“Let’s dance our way forward.”

“Huh? But—”

Though hesitant, I wrapped my arms around his neck. Lord Cyrus held my waist and led us with a relaxed rhythm. As we began to dance, the guests became even more enthusiastic and danced even more vigorously.

Oh my, some people were already eating! But that was supposed to be served after the vow ceremony—wait, isn’t that Father?

I thought I should warn him, but none of the People of Ipsandros seemed to mind. Meat was pushed into Father’s mouth, and wine was poured into his goblet.

“Is this really alright?”

“It’s fine. This is how weddings go in this country. It’s everyone’s blessing. We have the duty to enjoy ourselves!”

Lord Cyrus said confidently, and I couldn’t help but laugh.

“Hehe... that’s right! Let’s dance. Today is the happiest day!”

“No, the happiest days will be tomorrow, and the day after tomorrow even more so. I’ll make you so happy you’ll be busy every day, Marie.”

And so today, the two of us took each other’s hands and laughed heartily as we continued down the virgin road.

—How did things come to this?

Sometimes, I wonder very strangely.

Not long ago, I was called the ragged girl.

With tangled red hair full of lint, ugly freckles, dirty tattered clothes, and worn-out hemp shoes. I didn’t even understand feelings like liking or having fun, let alone luxury. I had forgotten even pain and fear. I was terrified of becoming happy.

Whenever I obtained something wonderful, I was so scared of losing it that I would let it go myself.

...That day, my eighteenth birthday...

I will never forget the night I met him for the rest of my life.

His eyes, gazing at me from that moment on, have always been kind and indulgent like a dream.