I Got My Engagement Annulled… Even Though We Were Never Engaged - Chapter 1

The Kingdom of Belcour is a small nation located in the southern part of the continent.

Looking at a map, it has a rounded shape like a fava bean, surrounded by the inland sea to the south and large countries to the north, east, and west making it appear somewhat disadvantaged in terms of diplomacy.

However, though small, its history spans five hundred long years. Tracing back through its past reveals a nation with considerable national strength, having survived numerous skirmishes with neighboring countries without ever being absorbed.

This is largely because the country is home to many individuals skilled in magic, known as sorcerers, earning it the respectful nickname “The Nation of Sorcerers” from surrounding lands.

Why do so many sorcerers emerge in Belcour?

The reason remains unclear, but the prevailing theory is that it’s because the country was founded by a single great sorcerer.

Five hundred years ago—

The continent was struck by an unprecedented catastrophe known as the Stampede, in which monstrous creatures appeared in massive numbers.

It was then that the great sorcerer, His Majesty King Savaran, the founding monarch of Belcour, rose to the occasion. Together with a saintess, he purified a massive miasma swamp that had triggered the outbreak of monsters and built a nation upon it.

That was the beginning of Belcour.

Incidentally, the saintess who helped purify the miasma swamp became King Savaran’s queen, and the two are entombed together in the grand cathedral atop a small hill overlooking the country.

Many modern scholars believe that the power of these two has been passed down through Belcour’s citizens, which is why so many possess a talent for sorcery.

In any case, thanks to this background, our small but respected nation maintains good relations with its neighbors.

To strengthen international ties, our country and others exchange promising young nobles as state-sponsored exchange students.

One such student is the young Marquis Fevan Levesius, who just recently returned home.

Having studied for three years in the eastern neighboring country of Nodierra from age sixteen to nineteen, he is now a year older than me, Adeline. As his selection as an exchange student suggests, he is exceptionally brilliant. On top of that, he’s tall and handsome. The kind of perfect man you’d almost believe was blessed by the gods.

And yet, here he was, slumped and shrinking before my very eyes.

Beside Lord Fevan sat his father, while next to me was his mother.

We were in one of the drawing rooms of the Levesius Marquisate.

The chandelier hanging from the ceiling was a type of magical artifact.

With so many sorcerers in Belcour, the technology behind magical artifacts is also state-of-the-art.

Apparently, in surrounding countries, the number of monsters has decreased, making magic stones hard to come by. But for some reason, Belcour has an abundance of monsters.

The knight corps regularly sets out to subdue them, and a private organization called the Adventurers’ Guild offers bounties for monster hunts, so they, too, regularly hunt monsters.

As a result, magic stones are readily available, and the government has established institutions to develop magical artifacts using them. That’s why this country is overflowing with magical artifacts to an extent unseen anywhere else on the continent.

Naturally, our nation’s specialty product is these artifacts, which sell for high prices abroad. We have no trouble earning foreign currency. That’s why Belcour, though small, is quite a wealthy country.

Bathed in the sparkling light of that chandelier, I watched as Lord Fevan sat there, pale.

He hadn’t spoken a word since we’d entered.

His father beside him was pressing his temples as if suffering a headache, while his mother next to me was glaring sternly at Lord Fevan.

“Fevan, do you understand what you’ve done?”

The marquise’s icy voice cut through the silence that had fallen over the drawing room.

Even I, who wasn’t the one being scolded, nearly gasped aloud at the sheer anger in her tone.

Lord Fevan shrank like a slug sprinkled with salt, briefly lifting his face.

“I-I’m terribly sorry for the inconvenience I’ve caused the young lady due to my misunderstanding.”

His face was so pale it was pitiful to see. I let out a soft sigh and decided to first confirm how such an absurd situation had come about. Without knowing the reason, I couldn’t possibly figure out how to resolve this.

“Um, would you mind explaining the reason first? As you can see, I’m neither a beauty nor particularly noticeable. So why did you mistake me for your fiancée? Or rather, is it even possible to confuse your fiancée’s face with someone else’s? Please, tell me what happened.”

My hair is a golden-orange, and my eyes are a dark green.

Ever since my childhood friend and now my sister’s fiancé Mariotte told me I had “the eyes of a sinister witch,” I’ve worn thick, non-prescription glasses to make my eyes stand out as little as possible. And though I’m the one saying it, I think I’m a terribly plain girl.

I have so little presence I could probably blend into the wallpaper. How in the world did he manage to pick me out in that crowded venue?

At that, Lord Fevan shot an accusing look at his father beside him, then straightened his posture.

“You’re right, it’s not good to keep the reason a secret. Of course, I’m entirely at fault in this matter, but if you’ll allow me to explain, I never intended to embarrass you.”

Well, that much was obvious. If that ridiculous engagement-cancellation scene had been staged to humiliate me, I’d seriously question this man’s sanity. Announcing the breakup and then coming out with something outrageous that backfired on him it makes no sense. As I keep saying, it’s unbelievable.

“Well, to get to the root of it while I was studying abroad in Nodierra, my parents went ahead and arranged an engagement for me without my consent.”

“To Lady Adrienne Canteloupe, the earl’s daughter, correct?”

“Y-yes…”

I’ve seen Lady Adrienne Canteloupe a few times myself.

She’s eighteen, the same age as me, and the eldest daughter of the Canteloupe earldom. With her light brown hair and hazel eyes, she’s a very lovely young woman.

I hear she flits through social circles like a butterfly, and the number of men she’s charmed is greater than the fingers on both hands and feet.

To mix up the belle of the ball with the wallflower… honestly, how could he?

“It’s no excuse, but I don’t know what Lady Adrienne looks like. However, I was told she’d be at today’s party… or rather, my father informed me that the engagement would be announced at this party… so…”

“You panicked and tried to call off the engagement before it was announced, but since you didn’t know her face, you happened to overhear my name somewhere and mistook me for her, is that it?”

“Exactly!”

He pointed at me as if to say, “That’s it!” and I felt a flash of irritation.

… “Exactly,” my foot! What were you thinking?!

If that’s the case, you could at least have checked what she looked like beforehand. To be in such a rush to break off the engagement that you confused her with someone else. How utterly foolish.

The marquis beside him had his head in his hands, and the marquise had a vein bulging on her forehead.

“No, that’s… I understand I’ve caused Miss Adeline Cambrelive a great deal of trouble. I’m truly sorry.”

Perhaps my gaze was too sharp, because Lord Fevan shrank back again and bowed his head.

“B-but I do have my reasons… ah, of course, not toward you, Miss Adeline, but toward my father. You’re completely the victim here.”

“And what are those reasons?”

At this point, I wanted to hear everything.

Probably, there aren’t many young ladies in the world—if any who’ve been mistaken for someone’s fiancée, publicly dumped, and then forced to listen to an unsolicited coming-out about liking men.

Under the circumstances, I think I at least deserve to know the reason.

“Y-yes.”

Lord Fevan cleared his throat, glanced at his father, and began to speak.

The Marquis Levesius didn’t seem inclined to stop his son. If anything, he looked like he wanted to know the reason behind this ridiculous mess himself.

“First, let me be clear—I have no memory of agreeing to an engagement with Lady Adrienne.”

“…On their side, they claimed you and Lady Adrienne were in love, had promised to marry, and even went so far as to say you’d been with her before leaving to study abroad, so you had to take responsibility. What do you say to that?”

“It’s a misunderstanding! For one thing, I have no experience with women!!”

…Well, if he likes men, he wouldn’t be involved with women, right? Yeah.

As I nodded in understanding, Lord Fevan suddenly looked up and shook his head vigorously.

“That’s right! Miss Adeline, I can’t let you misunderstand, so I’ll say it now—I am not gay! I like girls!”

“What?!”

“Uh, well… so, let me explain in order…”

And so, Lord Fevan launched into a long, rambling explanation that was enough to give anyone a headache.

In summary:

First, while Lord Fevan was abroad, his parents went ahead and arranged an engagement with Lady Adrienne Canteloupe without his consent.

According to Lady Adrienne, she and Lord Fevan were in love, had already done the deed, and therefore he needed to take responsibility.

The Marquis Levesius initially said he couldn’t agree without confirming with his son, but the Earl Canteloupe accused him of being irresponsible and even threatened legal action, hinting he’d take it to court. Not wanting the matter to escalate, the marquis reluctantly agreed to the engagement.

That was six months ago.

They didn’t inform Lord Fevan because they judged that if the story were true, it was only right for him to take responsibility as a man, and they had no grounds to make excuses to him. Though, if you ask me, they could’ve at least verified the facts. Well, I suppose it’s awkward for parents to ask their son, “Did you sleep with that girl?”

But as the marquis, although he’d prepared the engagement documents, he hadn’t yet arranged a meeting with both parties involved. He intended to hold the engagement announcement only after they’d all met and discussed things.

That’s why the young lady in question had been invited to today’s party to confirm once more whether the engagement was valid.

However, Lord Fevan misunderstood today’s party as “the engagement announcement venue.” Thinking he couldn’t let it happen, he rushed in without much of a plan and declared the engagement void.

As for that coming-out… apparently, he thought that even if his intended was someone he didn’t remember and an engagement had been arranged without his knowledge, he couldn’t let all the blame fall on the young lady in public.

As a result, believing he should bear the responsibility himself, he ended up saying things like, “I like men.”

…Yeah. Is he an idiot?!

No matter how flustered he was, couldn’t he have come up with a slightly better plan?

They say Lord Fevan is smart, but maybe he’s the type who turns foolish under pressure. That’s the impression I’m getting.

Well, no matter how absurd his plan was, the fact that he tried to direct the criticism toward himself. Well, that part is slightly just a tiny bit commendable.

It’s a complete mess, no doubt, but the fact that he could consider the other person’s feelings, even when faced with an engagement based on false accusations, probably means he’s a kind person.

I can’t approve of everything, but at least I understand the reason now.

As for me, being dragged into this. It’s just great, isn’t it?!

“Miss Adeline Cambrelive, my foolish son has truly caused you great trouble.”

After hearing Fevan’s explanation, the Marquis Levesius apologized, though he still held his head.

The lady seated beside me also wore a deeply apologetic expression. “I’m so very sorry,” she said.

“We will certainly make amends for today. However, we cannot simply leave the party venue as it is, so for now, please allow one of our household to escort you home. Could we continue our discussion at a later date?”

Well, as the host, the marquis couldn’t very well abandon the party venue after what was essentially a bomb dropped at the very beginning.

I certainly didn’t have the courage to return to that scene either, so if I could go home, that would be for the best.

“Then I’ll escort—”

“You’re coming back with me!!”

Lord Fevan, who’d been hoping to make his escape, was held firmly by the head by the marquis and looked utterly dejected.

I slowly let out a sigh toward the ceiling.

…What kind of rumors will be flying about starting tomorrow…? This is giving me a headache.

The nobles of high society, with too much time on their hands, love juicy gossip.

Feeling the urge to escape reality, I let the Marquise Levesius lead me toward the entrance of the marquis’s estate.