I Will Break Off the Engagement Because I'm Jealous - The Untalented Villainess Who Rejected the Prince Searches for a Safe Haven with the Cheat Heroine - Chapter 4.1

I saw something unpleasant—that was Emilia’s impression upon arriving at the entrance of her family’s estate.

The ducal capital was located in the highlands. Traveling along a gentle mountain path, the spirit carriage carrying Emilia and Iris reached the city walls late in the afternoon. Since vehicles couldn’t operate within the city, they left it at the gate and rode a waiting carriage for some time. Just as the jostling began to make her rear ache and the noise her ears hurt, the estate finally came into view. When they disembarked, a line of servants stood waiting—and there, Emilia…

(What in the world is that…?)

…saw two strange things.

One was a maid in an excessively flashy outfit—an apron dress patched with yellow and pink in a vivid, unsettling color scheme that felt disturbingly raw.

And beyond her, by the steps of the entrance, crouched… a man. There was nothing wrong with crouching per se, though his long coat hem trailing on the ground did bother her a little. But that wasn’t it.

“Nothing should be allowed to disturb one’s sleep… Mosquitoes, mosquitoes, mosquitoes. We nobles cannot permit their existence. We must crush every last one, meticulously. That is my mission.”

Muttering to himself, the man was plucking something flying in the air, something floating in a small puddle, and crushing it. It was bizarre. From his appearance, he seemed to be a relative of the nobility but Emilia desperately wanted to believe he wasn’t a relative.

Emilia and Iris had come to negotiate with the Persicam ducal house to protect Iris’s family, the Fran barony, from Prince Sieg’s clutches. Though “negotiate” was a strong word—Emilia, about to study abroad in the empire, had nothing to offer. In fact, having unilaterally broken off her engagement with the prince, she might even need to compensate for the loss. But she had to do it. They had to secure their request. Using reason and emotion, they absolutely had to.

Steeling herself, suppressing the stomach-churning anxiety as she headed to the estate where she would meet her family after so long. Emilia had arrived.

Only to have her momentum crushed by this strange man.

“Bubaldia! Don’t you agree!? Mosquitoes should be exterminated!”

Suddenly, the man stood up and raised his voice. Both Emilia and the maids flinched.

“That’s neither here nor there, Master. Lord Kismort. Baron. You’re attracting attention.”

The vividly colored maid responded to the man advocating mosquito extinction. Worst of all, these two seemed to be a pair. If he was a baron, he probably wasn’t a relative, but if he was a guest, Emilia wished he would leave even a second sooner. Honestly, she felt like crying.

(The servants aren’t guiding us inside, so Father or someone must be coming to greet us… But that means we can’t enter until he arrives. I want these people who seem bad for Iris’s moral education gone quickly—Iris?)

When Emilia glanced beside her, for some reason, Iris’s eyes were sparkling.

“Brother Kismort! What are you doing here?”

Iris called out happily, and Emilia felt sick, nearly fainting. He couldn’t possibly be her real brother—this creepy man with a hunched, lanky frame, a sickly complexion, and dark circles under his eyes. That shining idol calling him “brother”… It was a nightmare. She felt like throwing up. Moreover, Iris ran to him and took his arm.

“Oh, Iris! I hardly recognized you. You’ve become so beautiful. You’re already seventeen, aren’t you?”

“I’m still sixteen. So?”

“Ah, through an introduction from Prince Sieg, I’ve been working as a sleep therapist. I’m treating the young master here… Lord Cycle’s insomnia.”

The mosquito-crushing baron was connected to her real brother. Insomnia treatment meant—

“Though I’ve only just started. While putting the young master to sleep, I’m busy like this, improving the sleep environment.”

“Was crushing mosquitoes not just your usual hobby?”

“It serves a practical purpose too.”

So, he was staying at the estate. No, that wasn’t what bothered Emilia.

(They’re too close, too close! Don’t hold her hand, don’t squeeze it!?)

The point was that Iris and this baron were oddly intimate.

“Ah, Lady Emilia. Let me introduce you.”

Suppressing the urge to say “Don’t,” Emilia forced a strained smile and waited.

“This is Baron Moss. Though he might be more famous by his name, Kismort, than his territory or title?”

“I inherited the title, but my in-laws still manage the territory. I’m Kismort Keiquartz.”

“And this is Lady Emilia. The daughter of the Persicam ducal house.”

“Oh, Lord Cycle’s little sister! I’m greatly indebted to His Grace the Duke as well. Please, treat me well.”

The baron bowed deeply. Seeing this, Emilia—

(Ah—! I remember! This mob-faced baron is a romance target—!)

Recalled something from her memories of the otome game she’d played in her previous life.

Kismort Keiquartz was a pitiful man. His wife had left him, and he had no children. Though his in-laws, the baronial family he married into, liked him enough to let him inherit the title, he himself had no talent for managing the territory. Coming to the royal capital in search of a bride to at least secure an heir, he “reunited” with the heroine, Iris. The two childhood friends with an age gap gradually grew attracted to each other, and Iris, marrying him, managed the barony with her wit. That was the ending.

Behind his intensely poverty-stricken character, Kismort was an incredibly hardworking man and, moreover, the ultimate healing character in the game, making him an unexpectedly beloved romance target.

(But if that’s the case. This is bad, this is really bad…!)

Emilia felt a sense of crisis. A “muddled feeling” was bubbling and boiling like magma deep in her chest.

The crucial point was… in the game, the two weren’t (·) this (·) close (·). When they reunited in the royal capital, they were much more distant, and only through repeated chance encounters on the street did they start feeling fate… That’s how they were.

(Are we already on his route!? Ha! So that’s why Iris said she doesn’t like Prince Sieg——)

The circumstantial evidence was piling up. If this was the worst-case scenario… Emilia felt the blood drain from her face.

“…Lady Emilia?”

Iris herself tilted her head quizzically. Beneath that adorable gesture… their arms and hands, their fingers, were intertwined.

The “muddled feeling”—was about to ignite into a murky flame.

“Ah… Pleased to meet you. I’m Emilia Cramens.”

Emilia put on a perfect smile, adopting an impeccable posture as she faced him. Whispering in the depths of her soul… This guy is an enemy.

Just then.

“Sorry to keep you waiting, Emilia.”

A clear, resonant voice echoed, and a gentleman appeared from the wide-open double doors.

(Father——!)

Emilia instantly hid her rising joy beneath her expression. The flame in her chest extinguished, busily replaced by the rekindling of a different, warmer feeling.

The gentleman descended the stairs slowly. His short silver hair swept back, narrow eyes tinged with red, a well-groomed beard at his mouth and chin. Even the etched wrinkles held a sculpted beauty. Emilia desperately suppressed the urge to squeal like her previous self would have.

(My favorite character is my father—I’m too nervous to speak! Standing before him in this travel-worn outfit is too embarrassing!)

Emilia performed a flawless curtsy, waiting as he approached. Though she tried to remain composed, her heart pounded loudly, her face hot and flushed. If she didn’t breathe slowly and deeply, she felt she might leap forward and hug him—Wouldn’t it be allowed since she’s his daughter? She made excuses to herself.

“Raise your head, Emilia. And who might this be?”

“Ah. I’m Iris Crocus, daughter of Baron Fran. My parents have told me how much we are always indebted to Your Grace.”

“The indebtedness is on my side. It’s been since you were very small. Let me introduce myself properly.”

Emilia slowly lifted her face. She thought the redness might have faded a little.

“I am Mentor Cramens, head of the Persicam ducal house. Pleased to meet you.”

Iris performed an elegant curtsy. Baron Kismort also bowed, and the servants kept their heads lowered respectfully. But Emilia barely registered them. Her gaze was fixed on her father, Mentor, who had a hand on his chest and was smiling gently.

She had loved Prince Sieg. But if asked who she liked the most, for Emilia—it was her father, Mentor himself.

It was a feeling inherited from her previous life, precisely because they had been separated and hadn’t interacted as parent and child.

A guiltily matured emotion.

It smothered the “muddled feeling.”