chapter 04
Well… from the way Lewin talked, I had assumed his older brother would be a bit bigger than him.
But excuse me, nobody said this was the brother.
I bit my lip as I glanced at the giant of a man sitting across from me.
I mean, I did figure he’d be kind of a jerk, but still…
Right after Lewin and I finished sharing the freshly cooked stew, someone knocked on the door.
I thought it must be a parent, but nope—five or six complete strangers were standing outside.
And the man standing right at the door was so tall that I had to tilt my head all the way back just to see his face.
Pitch-black hair, as if drawn with shadow.
Ruby-colored eyes.
A face so perfectly matching some description I’d read somewhere that my heart nearly dropped.
While I was frozen, someone beside him spoke up.
His voice was calm, completely unlike his golden hair and sweat-dampened forehead.
“We were told the young lord was here.”
The gentle smile and soft tone couldn’t hide it—he already knew everything.
A cold sweat trickled down my back.
Of course, the young lord they were looking for was Lewin.
The tall man’s broad chest was wrapped in a dark leather armor, polished smooth like glass, with a black turtleneck underneath.
The hand peeking out from his sleeve was as fair as Lewin’s, but with veins and sinews so prominent it looked anything but gentle.
Black hair. Black clothes.
With him sitting across from me, it felt like all the light in the room got sucked in his direction.
“So you’re Lewin’s brother…”
I trailed off and lifted the teacup from the table. The decorative tea had long gone cold.
My counseling office—bright with light from the arched window and decorated with green plants I placed for atmosphere—had transformed into an interrogation room in seconds.
Seeing the duke made it painfully clear why my symptoms eased whenever I was with Lewin.
Of course… he was from the Brecht family.
Goodbye, tutoring center. Goodbye, this life.
While I swallowed my tears inwardly, the man answered curtly.
“Yes.”
His voice was nicely low and weighty, but the emotion in it was freezing cold.
I forced a calm smile and sipped my lukewarm tea.
No—seriously, they didn’t look alike at all.
The man silently picked up his teacup as well. It was a fairly fine porcelain cup, but in his hand it looked like a toy.
His red eyes flicked to the tea inside.
“I didn’t know Lewin’s brother was… this big.”
I tried to lighten the mood, but it didn’t work at all.
He drank without a sound—fitting for a noble duke, I guess.
But still, could he at least answer me…?
Please, someone fix this atmosphere!
My insides were burning.
“I didn’t even know the Duke of Brecht had a younger brother.”
I gave him a harmless, friendly smile to assert my innocence.
The smile I had perfected at kids’ cafés, the one that had persuaded countless parents in this very office.
I doubted it would work on him, but I had to try.
“The streets in this rural town become dangerous after evening, so I simply brought him in to keep him safe. I hope you’ll understand with a generous heart.”
…
There wasn’t a single mention of the Brecht Duke having a sibling. Author-nim, seriously.
How was I supposed to know the kid I picked up was the villain’s little brother?
Complaining was pointless, but the chaos inside me made me want to scream.
The Duke looked at me, then finally spoke.
“How did you learn my brother’s name?”
I stared blankly at him.
What on earth was he talking about?
“Children his age usually know how to say their own names…?”
Ah. I accidentally said what I was thinking.
I’d been dealing only with villagers these days, so I’d forgotten basic etiquette.
I tried to force my expression back to calm, but apparently it was rude—he frowned slightly.
“My brother cannot speak.”
…Excuse me? Your brother was speaking perfectly fine five minutes ago?
That was completely unexpected.
I widened my eyes and stared straight at him.
I slipped out of expression control for a moment, but he was the villain—I quickly rearranged my face into a relaxed smile.
“I apologize for my earlier rudeness, Your Grace. But I don’t think you’ve spent nearly enough time with your brother. Lewin speaks quite well. Clear pronunciation, too, except in a few cases.”
But he didn’t look convinced at all.
“My brother cannot speak.”
“He can.”
“He cannot.”
“I said he can.”
A short argument followed.
A commoner—an orphan, at that—talking back to a duke was an executable offense.
But being mistaken as a kidnapper by the villain? That was 100% guaranteed death.
And I didn’t want Lewin to be thought of as mute, either.
His little chattering voice was as pretty as a lark.
I pretended to lift my teacup while subtly scanning the man head to toe.
Every parent in the world loves hearing praise about their child—why was this man so prickly?
Could it be a half-sibling?
The age gap would make sense…
I took another sip. This time, a faint jasmine scent lingered on my tongue.
Maybe in the original story, the half-brother wasn’t considered family, which was why he never appeared…
While I was spinning theories, the duke spoke again.
“You claim to know the name of my mute brother; the village spoke well of you, so I wanted to believe you were simply a kind person. But now I can’t dismiss my suspicions. Especially considering you kept him with you for four days without reporting it.”
A bolt of lightning.
Okay, yes, keeping him for four days was kind of my fault. But I did make a report!
“What do you mean?”
I quickly set my cup down, droplets splashing onto my fingers.
The duke crossed one long leg over the other and let out a short, derisive laugh.
“Prepared as you seem, your prior research appears lacking.”
“What are you implying?”
“My brother developed mutism after our parents died.”
Mutism.
A form of aphasia—a psychological shock that makes someone unable to speak.
Lewin had mutism?
Seeing disbelief on my face, he continued.
“If my brother spoke, then I suppose I must thank you. It has been nearly two years since he lost his voice. No physician in the Empire has been able to help…”
He pushed his teacup away as if it were filthy.
My cheeks burned as if slapped.
“If what you say is true, then I must bring you to the ducal estate and treat you with utmost hospitality. You’ve cured an illness of the heart that the Empire’s greatest doctors could not.”
He smiled then—a bright, pleasant smile completely unlike the grim aura from earlier.
Somehow, that made his words feel even more offensive.
I hurried to explain.
“Lewin really can talk. He called me ‘mom.’”
“How distasteful. You must’ve investigated my mother’s appearance as well. I don’t see any resemblance.”
“But—”
“And apparently you assumed I would never think of bringing in someone resembling our parents to treat his illness.”
He cut me off immediately. I bit my lips again and again.
He truly seemed offended.
Duke Brecht—
The man who dragged what looked like a simple academy reverse-harem story into full despair in the second arc.
“If you bring Lewin here, I’ll speak with him directly.”
“And risk you doing who-knows-what to him? Absolutely not.”
Contrary to my delusion, he did seem attached to his brother.
The taste of blood spread in my mouth from biting too hard.
He drove in the final nail.
“If you weren’t lying, I would’ve rewarded you. But now I have no choice but to ask. Who sent you? Who ordered you to bring my brother here?”
No… I just wanted to keep a lost kid safe…
I clawed at my scalp inwardly.
Should I not have brought him home?
But what kind of monster leaves a lost child alone?!
And apparently Lewin had been sick for a long time, and even targeted for kidnapping…
Meanwhile, the duke’s posture slowly collapsed into something far more dangerous.
Gone was the polite demeanor—he now looked like a predator debating how to snap the neck of prey sitting right in front of him.
Maybe I should say Lewin lied, that I only brought him for safety?
His belongings—did he have anything with his name on it? A handkerchief?
But would Lewin even own something like that?
My mouth felt bitter.
He wouldn’t forgive me even if I begged now.
I rubbed my fingers together, forcing myself to recall the memories from my past life that I’d shoved deep down.
Unlike other villains, he truly had no blood or tears.
The arch-nemesis of the heroine, daughter of the Border Marquis, and the male lead, her knight-escort.
The man who brought drugs into the Empire, addicting the emperor and turning him into his puppet.
But beyond that, I remembered nothing.
In the novel, he always appeared indirectly, through the protagonists’ deductions.
No details. No backstory. No clear motives.
And since the novel was still ongoing, he didn’t even have an on-screen appearance yet!
“Judging by how your complexion changes every second, I see you’ve finally realized what you’ve done.”
His voice snapped me out of my spiraling thoughts.
The duke was resting his chin on his hand, observing me.
Yes—observing.
My heart clenched stiffly.
“There’s no value in talking further. I have more questions, but…”
He smiled with his eyes. A shiver crawled up my spine.
“The rest, you can answer beneath the ducal estate.”
Beneath…?
The place the protagonists snuck into, then spent three days bedridden from the trauma?
The one with descriptions so cruel that readers demanded refunds for the chapter?
I tried to speak, but no sound came out.
He stood casually. And the moment he rose, it felt like all the room’s light was swallowed into him.
Like a black hole.
“By then, you’d better have something more worthwhile to say.”
His ruby eyes swept over me.
