I Accidentally Saved The Male Lead’s Brother

Charlotte had expected Carcel to simply place the wreath on the empty ground, as she had done.

But he did more than that.

After setting the wreath down, he knelt before the spot and pressed his palms to the ground. A radiant light began to emanate from his hands.

It was a stark, brilliant glow that clashed with the darkness of the night. Charlotte instinctively shielded her eyes.

When the light subsided and she reopened them, she saw something that hadn’t been there before: a small grave, nestled beside the duchess’s burial site.

It was Edgar’s grave.

The name “Edgar Heinst” engraved on the headstone filled her with profound sorrow.

The grave was crafted from white marble, exuding the duke and duchess’s boundless love for their lost son. A small cherub, reminiscent of Theo, stood atop the grave, holding a trumpet.

Above where Carcel had placed the wreath, another wreath sat—one made of marble.

Charlotte immediately recognized its significance. It was a gift from the late duke and duchess, an eternal wreath that would never fade, meant to honor their son’s memory even after they were gone.

Tears welled in Charlotte’s eyes. Meanwhile, Carcel hung his head, as though the weight of his emotions were too much to bear.

“Edgar…”

His voice cracked with something deeper than sadness—it carried pain and guilt.

“I’m here.”

Charlotte stood still, watching silently.

Now wasn’t the time for her to approach him. This moment belonged to him and Edgar—two brothers finally reunited across the chasm of time.

“I’m sorry for coming so late. I forgot about you for so long.”

Tears fell from Carcel’s eyes, landing on the cold marble below.

Charlotte stayed rooted in place, bearing silent witness to his grief.

Once Carcel finished his private memorial, he used his magic to conceal Edgar’s grave once more.

Though he longed to reveal Edgar’s sacrifice to the world, he knew it wasn’t the right time.

As they left the burial ground, Carcel reached for Charlotte’s hand, his voice low and grim.

“The marquis of Petrian.”

Now that his memories had returned, he could finally identify the forces behind the attempts on Theo’s life.

“I believe they’re responsible for targeting Theo. There’s no other explanation.”

Charlotte didn’t confirm or deny his suspicions, silently waiting for him to continue.

“To uncover their movements, we’ll need to attend the New Year’s Ball.”

This time, Charlotte spoke.

“I’ll go with you.”

Carcel, however, didn’t respond. He simply stared at her for a long moment, his red-rimmed eyes revealing conflicting emotions.

Then, as though overcome, he averted his gaze and released her hand.

“Carcel?”

Charlotte reached out for him, but he didn’t take her hand. It wasn’t that he wouldn’t—it was that he couldn’t.

Overwhelmed by guilt and self-loathing, Carcel felt unworthy of holding her hand.

He thought of Edgar, who had died simply because he was a Compatible. Of Heather, Theo’s bodyguard, who had also perished for the same reason.

And now, who would be next?

The answer was painfully obvious.

Charlotte.

If their enemies discovered her true identity, she would undoubtedly become their next target.

And yet, he couldn’t let her go. He had selfishly kept her by his side, clinging to her as though his life depended on it.

But now, Carcel realized what he had to do.

He had to let her go.

It was the only way to protect her.

Back in her room, Charlotte suddenly felt nauseous. She barely made it to the bathroom before something surged up her throat.

She clasped a hand over her mouth, but when she pulled it away, she was horrified to see blood staining her palm.

“Blood…”

Her knees gave way, and she sank to the floor, trembling.

Teresa’s warning echoed in her mind:

“You should avoid using that power as much as possible. The threads of fate will weaken with repeated shocks, and eventually, they may snap. If that happens, you could die.”

Charlotte had known the risks but had continued to use her power for Theo and Carcel’s sake.

Until now, she had dismissed Teresa’s warnings, thinking them overly cautious. But now, there was no denying the truth.

Her body had reached its limit.

The only reason she hadn’t experienced side effects earlier was that she had used her powers sparingly. But calming Carcel had required immense strength, and it had taken a toll.

Charlotte forced herself to her feet, cleaning the blood from her hands and burning her blood-stained scarf in the fireplace.

“It’ll be fine. I’ll keep this a secret from Carcel.”

She reassured herself as she watched the scarf burn.

If she avoided using her power for a while, she reasoned, everything would return to normal. Telling Carcel would only make him worry.

Still, her hands trembled as she hugged her knees in front of the fire.

“It’s fine… It’ll be fine.”

She whispered the words over and over, trying to convince herself they were true.

The next morning, Emma gasped when she saw Charlotte’s face.

“Miss, why are your eyes so swollen?”

Charlotte pressed her fingertips against her puffy eyelids, which still stung from the previous night’s tears.

Her whole body ached—her head, her throat, even her neck. She told herself it was just from crying, though she wasn’t entirely sure.

Charlotte decided to lie to avoid raising Emma’s suspicions.

“I was reading this before bed,” she said, holding up a book from her bedside table.

It was a romance novel about a terminally ill heroine, currently all the rage among noblewomen her age.

Emma checked the book’s title and nodded in understanding.

“Ah, that book. People say it leaves everyone in tears. Why read it at night, though? You should read it during the day.”

“I’d look ridiculous crying over a book in broad daylight.”

“Fair enough, but still…”

Emma sighed as if upset on Charlotte’s behalf.

“Are you sure that’s all it is?”

“I promise.”

Satisfied for now, Emma left to fetch a cold compress.

After applying the compress, Charlotte managed to reduce the swelling somewhat. But not enough to escape Theo’s sharp eyes.

The moment Theo saw her, he burst into laughter.

“Froggy eyes, Froggy eyes!”

“Do they really look that bad?”

“Yep! Ribbit, ribbit!”

Charlotte tickled him in mock revenge, making him squirm and giggle uncontrollably.

When breakfast came, she was surprised to find Carcel already at the table.

Unlike Charlotte, he showed no signs of having cried. His eyes weren’t swollen, his skin was as smooth as ever, and only the faintest redness lingered in his sclera.

But something was off.

Normally, Carcel would greet her with a smile when she entered. Today, he kept his head down, focused on his documents.

“Carcel?”

Even Theo noticed the oddness and waved his hands in front of Carcel’s face.

“Time to eat,” Carcel said, finally looking up—but only at Theo. He didn’t spare Charlotte a glance.

After breakfast, Carcel approached Charlotte. His voice was as cold and formal as when they first met.

“There’s something important I need to discuss. Do you have time?”

Startled, Charlotte could only nod and follow him to his office.

 I hope you enjoyed reading this chapter !

If you can't wait to know what happens next, don't forget to check my Patreon for a quick access to all upcoming chapters . (you can either subscribe or check the collections tab for more affordable one time purchases)