Please Approve This Betrothal Already
"Alright. That should do it."
"We're finished?"
"Yeah. I was originally going to take readings from the extremities of your hands and feet as well, but the neodymium reaction was converging on zero. No point."
"…"
Once the experiment was over, Irene gathered her clothes and dressed herself piece by piece, her lips pursed tight.
I'm going to lose my mind…
Why is my heart pounding like this…?
The entire time they had been working, her heart had hammered so violently it left her completely flustered.
Was it because she had already made such an unsightly spectacle of herself over the last day or two?
No. Paradoxically, after showing him so many embarrassing sides of herself, she almost felt calmer.
The person she had hated most had somehow become the one who made her feel safest.
Admitting that fact made her heart settle, just a little.
"I'm leaving now."
"Noona. And also…"
"I know. The damages for last time, right? I'll send them over. Honestly, how much money does it take to fix a few broken skeleton bones…"
"As long as you know."
"…"
Even so, she still could not get used to the way her younger brother had changed.
He wore that same old, thoroughly contemptible expression and sniped at her exactly as before—yet somehow it barely even irritated her.
What on earth was going on?
Is this what it means for family to be precious?
As a child she had hated him enough to want him dead.
Now the only person she could truly lean on was this younger brother of hers.
Emilia was far too airheaded to rely on…
The black magic research was more respectable than I expected, too.
When he had first demanded to know where her neodymium was, she had been certain he had finally gone the same way as their father and lost his mind to black magic.
Watching him actually conduct the research, however, had proven every one of those fears baseless.
If it was Aslan, he would be fine.
This research presentation would not drag House Belmont into the abyss.
On the contrary, it would raise their standing higher still.
She had doubted him and obstructed him long enough. From now on, she would trust him properly.
And if he then went off the rails and started acting like a complete bastard again…
Well, she would just kill him herself.
That was roughly her mindset.
At the very least, I should clean up the noise until the academic conference.
Full authority over the family's operations already rested with Aslan, of course.
But there was still a world Aslan did not know.
He had no idea how many factions simmered with jealousy and envy toward the Belmonts, operating in the shadows.
He did not need to know.
She would handle all of it herself.
Knowing the darkness of the underworld was a job for one woman like her. That was enough.
"Hmm…"
Irene climbed into the carriage bound for the capital and gazed out the window, lost in thought for a moment.
No matter how hard she tried to forget, the dream kept returning.
Hide yourself. Close your heart, and kill your voice.
Conceal yourself so thoroughly that later even you forget who you are.
It was definitely a memory from childhood…
But who had that young version of herself been speaking to?
Someone you can trust will appear. Just wait until then.
And who exactly was that "someone you can trust" he had spoken of?
She had lived all this time trying to forget.
Looking back now, the only reason she had been able to hide herself so naturally and play the villainess Irene Belmont was thanks to the owner of that voice.
Because she had believed that someday, a person she could trust would appear.
Because she had held onto the hope that she could one day stop this agonizing performance.
If she had believed she would have to hide her heart for the rest of her life, she never could have started. She had only been able to begin because she believed there would be an end.
But where on earth was that end…?
As if the person I can trust would be Aslan of all people.
Aslan was a solid ally now, true enough.
But he was certainly not the trustworthy person that voice had meant.
After all, the one who had forced her to lock her heart away and play the villainess in the first place was Aslan himself…
He was simply a former human-trash, dog-of-a-profligate who had miraculously turned over a new leaf.
It was not as if some new trustworthy person had appeared.
"Don't tell me someone else is currently occupying Aslan's body or something…?"
The moment the possibility slipped carelessly from her lips, Irene's expression went rigid.
Huh?
"Pfft… Ah, no way…"
Realizing just how absurd the words she had just spoken were, she let out a hollow laugh and shook her head hard.
No. Of course not.
Her imagination had gone so far it had crossed into pure fantasy.
"It would be nice if it were true, though…"
If this ridiculous delusion were real, she would finally be able to put a name to the pounding of her heart every time Aslan was near.
She would be able to drop the villainess act and return to the estate.
Irene imagined that empty "what if" and allowed herself a bitter smile.
"Ah, damn. I'm not a cat."
Evil God Kali is proud of you, declaring that you have gained a glorious abundance of battle scars!
Only after Irene had left did I finally let out the groan I had been holding back and click my tongue.
Strangled by a sleep-talking older sister thrashing through a nightmare, covered in claw marks from head to toe…
I looked exactly like the long-suffering butler of a household that kept a large, aggressive cat.
If I kept taking Noona's hysterics like this, I was going to die.
And thanks to Laura's eyes, I could not even lie about it…
The last eighteen hours had been pure hell.
The hopeful part was that Irene was finally showing signs of improvement.
She had blackened because of the old, completely unhinged Aslan.
Yet when I treated her with a little warmth, I could see her growing gentler by the day.
Living at the estate still seemed beyond her for now.
But Noona would keep getting better, little by little.
I was starting to be able to picture a future where this dysfunctional family might actually become normal.
Though there's a real chance this family gets reduced not just to powder, but to absolute paste…
Before, whenever Irene came close I had only ever registered the killing intent she radiated.
My eyes would go straight to those razor-sharp heels of hers, and a certain delicate area of mine would prickle with phantom pain, so I had never noticed.
This time, however, I discovered something new: Irene smelled extremely good.
When a person is paralyzed by terror and fear, desire naturally gets shoved to the back of the line.
But now that Irene had become somewhat soft and gentle (?), the tension had eased, and that sweet body scent of hers was drifting over from right beside me—impulses I could barely suppress kept rising up one after another.
I have to hold back.
To me she was the first woman I had seen after flying into this world.
To Irene, I was just the little brother who had suddenly reformed one day.
Which meant I never even had a chance to begin with.
Thinking of it that way, I could give up cleanly.
…Even if a little attachment still seemed to linger.
"Aslaan. Is the experiment over? Where are the materials… Eek!? What happened to you!"
"Ah."
At that moment the door burst open and Yulia appeared. The instant she took in my appearance she recoiled in shock.
"You're a complete disaster! It was that woman again, wasn't it…? …Yo?"
"Well, yes, but…"
"She was fine when she was with us. Why is she always trying so hard to devour only Aslan… Ugh, look at all this."
"They'll heal quickly. You don't need to worry."
"Well I need to worry. Seeing skin that pretty get ruined like this—pretty enough that I almost feel jealous without meaning to—it hurts my chest. Come closer. …Yo."
Yulia grabbed my ear and yanked hard.
I let myself be pulled along without resistance. She dragged my face down until we were almost nose to nose—then startled herself with a tiny "eep" and took half a step back.
A faint flush colored Yulia's cheeks.
She promptly seized my chin, turned my face sideways, and made sure I could not meet her eyes.
"Don't look at me."
"…"
"Th-that is! It's not that I hate being looked at! It's just… too much pressure! If I'm conscious of Aslan's gaze I don't think I'll be able to do anything, so that's the only reason I'm doing this…!"
Even she seemed to realize how sharp her tone had been, because she immediately piled on frantic clarifications to salvage the situation.
I nearly burst out laughing at the sight.
She did not need to make excuses. I had known from the start that Yulia was not actually snapping at me because she hated me.
"What in the world did she do to leave you like this… Stay still. I knew this would happen, so I've been carrying a whole stock of bandages. …Yo."
"…"
Yulia rummaged through her pockets and produced a whole fistful of character bandages.
I wondered why she had so many—then realized she must have started preparing thoroughly ever since the time my cheek got cut.
…Come to think of it, that injury had been Irene's fault too.
"Don't move. …Yo."
She took hold of my arm and began peeling and sticking the little character bandages one by one.
Of course, the wounds were long, continuous scratches, four lines each. Those tiny bandages had no hope of covering them.
So Yulia simply kept peeling more and sticking them end to end, over and over.
"…"
In no time my arm was completely wallpapered in glittering character bandages.
The visual impact left me speechless for a second. Then I glanced at Yulia, who was sweating and concentrating with absolute seriousness, and found myself smiling.
"I told you not to look. …Yo."
As always, her way of worrying was clumsy.
There was probably no one else who would carefully tend a wound while still sniping at you in that sharp little voice.
At this rate, even at the betrothal ceremony she would stick out her hand for the ring while still grumbling at me.
And somehow that thought seemed like it would be nice in its own way.
"Ah!? I'm out of bandages…! These were the ones I carefully collected from all those magazines!"
So that was where the character bandages had come from.
They must have been the freebies that came with the magazines the estate subscribed to.
The moment her stock ran dry, Yulia flailed in panic.
"Ah, what do I do…!"
"Fear not! For I, the great one, have arrived!"
At that moment—bang.
The door flew open with far more force than when Yulia had entered.
Charlotte appeared, wrapped from head to toe in bandages.
Was she cosplaying a mummy…?
"Heheheh! Sparkly-sparkly character bandages? Yulia, you're still such a little kid!"
"Wh-what!?"
"If you're hurt, you're supposed to use real bandages like these!"
"Then why are you wearing the bandages all over your body…?"
"It would be a waste if I brought the whole roll and only used a little! So I only pulled off as much as I needed and cut it!"
"Couldn't you just bring the whole roll here and then pull off and cut only what you need?"
"Ah!? Yulia, are you a genius?"
"…"
Charlotte bellowed with her mouth wide open.
Yulia sighed and slapped a hand to her forehead.
In the meantime Charlotte sidled up and started winding bandages around my forearm.
"Uuu? How do you even tie this? I have no idea. I've never been hurt before…"
"Here, give it to me. Hold the other end carefully."
"Ah, okay…!"
Just as I moved to help her—
Every hair on my body stood on end. My danger-sense alarm began screaming without pause.
Sure enough.
I'm going to die of fear…
Through the slightly open crack of the door, a pair of small eyes was glaring at us with murderous intensity.
Father-in-law. Please… just approve this betrothal already.