Betrothed to My Sister's Ex

Early summer afternoon.

A breeze far cooler than that on the plains slipped through the trees, playing a rustling symphony with the leaves.

In a refined mansion standing solitary within the forest, an intense battle was underway on the terrace. Two lifelong friends and eternal rivals—Lord Cyrus and Lord Ruifeng.

They sat opposite each other at a tea table, elbows on the surface, gripping each other’s right hands. Thick veins stood out on both their arms. They were in the middle of an arm-wrestling match.

“Ugh… nngh…!”

“Hah, looks like I still have the advantage in raw strength.”

“You brute…!”

Lord Cyrus seemed to be gaining the upper hand in the arm wrestle.

Meanwhile, on their left side, a chessboard was spread out on the table. The pieces depicted a complex battle.

“Hmph… but, Lord Cyrus, it seems chess is still far beneath my level…”

Lord Ruifeng said with a sly grin.

“Hmph… doesn’t matter. But don’t forget—if your right hand’s back touches the table even once, the chess game is over, and I win.”

“Conversely, the moment I checkmate, the arm wrestling ends. Well, I’m winning at both chess and arm wrestling—got it!”

Lord Ruifeng suddenly put all his strength into trying to slam Lord Cyrus’s arm down. But Lord Cyrus barely shifted his body. If he wanted, he could have easily pinned Ruifeng’s arm anytime, but he didn’t want to nullify the chess match by winning the arm wrestle immediately. Maintaining the angle of his arm, he glared at the chessboard and grunted.

I watched these two while sitting comfortably on a bench, tickling Lisa. Lisa, who was not shy of new places, was delighted with the fresh surroundings and kept squealing at everything she saw for the first time.

Nearby, Wolfgang poured tea for everyone present. While Mio was away, the butler’s herbal tea was the greatest treat.

“Here you go. This is herbal tea made with rose hips.”

The vivid red color was utterly beautiful.

Sipping the sweet, slightly tart herbal tea, I glanced again at the two men battling at the tea table.

“By the way, what exactly are those two doing?”

“An arm wrestling and chess simultaneous duel.”

“Why at the same time? If they want fairness in their respective specialties, wouldn’t it be better to separate it into rounds—first chess, then arm wrestling?”

“That’s manly romance.”

Wolfgang, usually the epitome of a gentleman, said something unexpected. Is that really so? Perhaps that’s a trait shared by all Dilz men. Noble sons especially pride themselves on mastery of both literary and martial arts. True victory means conquering both… Even though I’m a pure Dilz person, I don’t quite get it—but then, I’m a woman, so maybe it’s okay not to understand.

They continued their arm wrestling struggle while moving chess pieces with their other hands. Lord Cyrus controlled the black pieces, Lord Ruifeng the white, and the quiet battle progressed.

Lord Ruifeng stared intently at the chessboard. His knight threatened Lord Cyrus’s rook.

“Check, Lord Cyrus. What’s your move?”

Lord Cyrus gave a wry smile and glanced at the board. His hand was slowly pushing back Ruifeng’s arm.

“Too sweet… how about this!”

Lord Cyrus moved a black piece and captured Ruifeng’s knight. At the same time, he put more strength into his right arm, trying to pin Ruifeng’s arm. Ruifeng, sweat on his brow, resisted.

“Oh! Impressive… but it’s not over yet!”

He gathered strength to push back. Their arms pushed against each other, muscles tensed so much it seemed you could hear the strain.

Yeah, well, it looks fun, and that’s what matters.

Beside this lively and tense scene—

“Um… about the paintings to decorate the salon…”

Marquis Dario muttered near the room’s entrance by the door. His body faced Lord Cyrus, but his head hung low. He spoke rapidly, mumbling to the floor.

“Most portraits of Lord Alfred were painted during his youth, while married to Lady Laura…”

“Ah, of course, display them.”