No, It was My Fault for Loving You

Chapter 18 : The Story’s Credibility

“…he.”

That was the only word Rembrandt said after hearing the story.

You’re lying, that’s impossible, or maybe you’re crazy.

Not a single one of the words Beatrice had expected came out of his mouth.

Beatrice then opened her mouth to speak to her brother, who had fallen silent.

“Does brother, um, believe me…?

“Hmm? Yeah, well, I don’t think it’s entirely a lie.”

“What? Why? Brother, is your head okay?”

“…you’re asking me?”

“No, no, because…”

Beatrice started mumbling 

Beatrice, who had somehow uttered the words she had feared her brother would say, could not hide her surprise at how easily he had accepted the story.

After being stabbed to death by a friend five years from now, she went back in time seven years ago.
And a suspicious person seemed to be eyeing that friend, and that suspicious person might be the cause of the sinking ship.

She said so directly.
What a stupid thing to say, and yet it was the only thing a stupid person such as herself could think of.

“I’d like to laugh it off as nothing short of ridiculous… but there’s something strangely plausible about your story.”

“Eh? Is that so?”

When Beatrice asked what part of the story he was referring to, she was told that he will have to talk about it later.

“Anyway.
I have a lot to say about what you just told me, but let me take care of this for now.
You’ll at least give me a little time to think about it, right?”

“Ah, yes.
Of course.
Thank you for listening to me, brother.
But, um…”

Beatrice was grateful that he listened to the end without assuming it was a lie.
But in her impatience, Beatrice continued her words as if she was really desperate.

Rembrandt seemed to immediately sense what his sister was thinking.

He chuckled and patted Beatrice on the head, saying, “I know what you mean.”

“Well, let’s stop talking about your rebirth.
Alejandro, right? I’ll look into it to see if he’s really the one behind it.
According to you, he may have had something to do with the ship that sank and the near fall of Viscount Tradd’s household, right?”

“Wah, yes.
That’s right.”

“Sure, it was sudden on both sides, and that’s a weird story.”

Rembrandt held his chin and began talking to himself.

“If it’s something that happened recently, it’s not that hard to find out.
Especially if there’s another case… well, and other things.”

Rembrandt looked up and ruffled Beatrice’s hair again, this time he did it vigorously.

“Eh, hey, brother?”

Beatrice’s soft cat hair quickly becomes tangled and looks like a bird’s nest.

“Enough.
Geez, oh, brother.”

“Take it easy for a while.
I’ll have my thoughts together by the time he gets here.”

“Ah, thank you.”

Rembrandt smiled when he saw Beatrice, who was stunned and grateful to her brother at the same time, with disheveled hair, and then he opened his mouth as if he had just remembered something.

“And I’d like to share this story with him.”

“Eh?”

“I think he needs to hear it too.”

“Is it necessary… to Edgar-sama?”

“Yes.
Okay?”

“Uh, if Brother says so.”

“Alright.
Then, I’ll see you later.”

With these words, Rembrandt left the room, and this time he turned to his father’s office.

Rembrandt began talking to Noyce Strydom, who looked up at his son’s sudden appearance with a puzzled look on his face.

“I have some urgent matters I need to look into.
I need about five shadow guards1 to help me.”

Noyce was slightly dazzled.

“Five people, very greedy aren’t you? What’s the trouble?”

“Unfortunately, I can’t give you the details right now.
Let’s just say that I’d like to put a few shadow guards here and there.”

Being smiled at, Noyce let out an exaggerated sigh of dismay.

“…I’m sure you’ll give me a proper report later.”

“Of course.
I’m borrowing one of your best men.”

“…”

Rembrandt was clearly not in the mood to be looked at with a stinky expression from his father.

He stared back at his father with a smile pasted on his face.

After watching Noyce, who had lost his patience first and waved his hand, saying, “That’s enough, I’ll allow you to go,” Rembrandt then left the office.

He had just sneaked out from work to check on her, but he had no idea that he was about to hear such an outrageous story.

In the carriage back to the palace, Rembrandt pondered over what he had just heard.

“A contractual marriage to Leopold with a one-year engagement period after graduation, in return for our financial support to the Reinalpha family… Well, that’s exactly what she would have done since she used to be Leopold’s fool.”

Beatrice’s best friend called Natalia being Leopold’s lover, the crazy guy who is flickering over the woman, or the Reinalpha family being in financial trouble because of a set up.

All of that stuff honestly doesn’t matter to Rembrandt.
After all, Beatrice being murdered by Leopold’s lover was something he would normally dismiss as delusional.

But…

“Five years from now, the cure for Beatrice’s disease is going to be developed…”

Beatrice was unaware of the ongoing development of a new drug in a neighboring country.

“Edgar’s initial assessment was that it would take ten years.
Now he said the pace has quickened and it will probably take seven or eight years.”

Hmmm, Rembrandt reflected.

“I mean, they are already going at that pace right now.
But even then, Trice wouldn’t make it, would she?”

Rembrandt closed his eyes, letting the vibrations of the carriage shake him.

Trice said Edgar’s behavior was different too.
He used to go and not see her for seven years.

Rembrandt’s right hand rubbed his chin as if in contemplation.

“I remember he told me that the research is progressing faster than expected, probably because he is observing Trice’s condition every time he returns to the country and trying everything he can.
Does that mean that there is a possibility that the drug will be completed earlier this time than before?”

Here, his lips gently arced.

“If that’s the case… Trice, you might be saved, right?”

To be honest, when Beatrice first told him the story, he thought, what the h**l is this idiot talking about?

Sleep talk in your sleep, dream in your sleep, he commented.

But at the end of the story…

At the very end, Beatrice mentioned a medicine made in Drieste.

Rembrandt decided to take his sister up on her offer with one word.

Rembrandt knew it.

Beatrice has accepted her death from an early age.

Even if she was delusional, there was no way she would talk about the development of drugs.

Moreover, according to Beatrice, that very drug was developed in the neighboring country of Drieste.

If it’s Edgar, then Rembrandt, his father, and mother, are currently waiting with a gleam of hope.

He had to keep it a secret from them, since it wasn’t the right time yet.
But they have been waiting for a long time for the news to reach them.

And Beatrice knew this.

“…Interesting.
I’ll take your word for it.”

In the carriage to the royal palace, Rembrandt made up his mind.

The shadow guards that he had requested from his father, Noyce, would be ready by nightfall.

A new drug developed by Drieste.

That one word was enough to make him decide whether to get on board or to turn against it.

☼☼☼

Sunnyshies: Oh, I like this brother.
I like his reaction! And he’s a sister-con inside!