I Accidentally Saved The Male Lead’s Brother

Carcel remained shaken for a long time after the revelations.

It was understandable. Anyone who uncovered such an overwhelming truth would struggle to maintain composure. By comparison, Carcel was holding up remarkably well.

Charlotte guided him to lie down on the sofa, his head resting on her lap. As she listened to his story, her own emotions churned.

Carcel had shared every secret without reservation. It felt only fair for her to reveal her own.

She placed a hand over his eyes, unable to meet his gaze. The words she was about to speak were ones she had never shared with anyone.

‘I thought I’d never have someone to tell this to.’

A mixture of relief and anxiety bubbled within her, and she swallowed hard.

Would Carcel still look at her the same way after hearing her truth?

Her heart pounded, her hands trembled, and her fingertips turned cold. Sensing her unease, Carcel grasped her hand firmly.

“Charlotte?”

“You shared a secret you couldn’t tell anyone. Now it’s my turn.”

She avoided his eyes, but he gently removed her hand and caught her gaze.

Carcel’s calm, concerned expression gave her pause. He touched her cheek softly, wordlessly encouraging her to speak.

The warmth in his eyes gave her courage. Slowly, Charlotte opened her mouth.

“I told you once that I nearly died three years ago from a fever—that’s when I became a Compatible.”

Carcel frowned slightly, the reminder of her near-death experience clearly paining him. He brushed a stray lock of hair behind her ear and replied with difficulty,

“Yes.”

He had no idea that what she was about to say would be even more harrowing.

Charlotte hesitated. Not for herself, but for him.

Would he be as distraught by her story as she had been when hearing about Edgar?

But she couldn’t keep it from him any longer. With a deep breath, she resolved to tell him.

“The truth is, Charlotte Lannia died back then.”

“…”

“I’m not really her.”

She dropped her head, unable to meet his gaze. Even though she wasn’t at fault, she felt a pang of guilt, as though she had done something wrong.

“My name was Min Eun-ha in another world. I died in an accident, and when I woke up, I was Charlotte. That was three years ago.”

“…”

“That’s why I’m a Compatible—I’ve experienced death myself.”

She omitted one crucial detail: the knowledge that this world was originally a story. She couldn’t bring herself to tell him that he was a character in a novel.

Charlotte no longer wanted to think of this place as a fictional world.

The people she’d met—Carcel, Theo, the Lannia family, and the others—weren’t just characters. They were real people, living and breathing before her eyes.

Carcel, especially, was undeniably real.

His silence made her nervous.

She had feared this moment: that he might dismiss her as insane or look at her differently.

But after a long, heavy silence, Carcel spoke—his words completely unexpected.

“Two years ago, the person I met at the market… was that you?”

Caught off guard, Charlotte blinked rapidly.

“That was me,” she confirmed without hesitation.

Relief washed over his face, and he let out a long sigh before pulling her into a tight embrace.

“Then that’s all that matters.”

His voice was steady, as if that one fact was enough for him.

Conflicted, Charlotte pressed further.

“Aren’t you going to ask me anything else?”

“There’s just one thing I want to know,” he said, his voice trembling slightly.

“Were you in pain three years ago?”

His question caught her off guard. A single tear fell from his eye, landing on her neck.

She shook her head.

“No, I don’t remember much of it.”

It was a lie. The memory of the accident remained vivid, the pain and terror still sharp in her mind.

Carcel didn’t press the issue, but she could tell he didn’t believe her.

Instead, he simply cradled her head, his hand stroking her hair as if trying to soothe a pain he couldn’t erase.

“Do you believe me? Don’t you think I’m strange?”

Carcel shook his head.

“I believe you. And you’re not strange at all.”

He brought her hand to his lips and kissed the back of it.

“I love you. You’re my everything. Your words are my truth.”

“…”

“I should be thanking the gods for bringing you to me.”

His gentle smile, filled with gratitude, was almost too much for her. Tears welled in her eyes as a sense of relief washed over her.

After a long moment, she whispered,

“Shall we visit Edgar together?”

Leaving the drawing room, Charlotte made her way to the greenhouse, where she gathered yellow flowers to weave a small wreath.

It was Carcel’s request—he wanted to personally offer Edgar the wreath.

She stared at the completed wreath with a bittersweet expression before heading outside.

As she approached the stables, she noticed Carcel preparing a single horse.

“Why just one? Are you going alone?”

Carcel shook his head slowly.

“We’ll ride together.”

“I can ride alone. You’ve seen me ride before.”

“I know you’re skilled, but… today, I want us to ride together.”

He hesitated, then added,

“Not because I doubt you. I just… need you close.”

Charlotte understood immediately. It wasn’t her competence he doubted—it was his own ability to face what lay ahead without her warmth to steady him.

Nodding, she agreed.

“Alright.”

Carcel helped her onto the horse before mounting behind her. His arms encircled her as he held the reins, and they set off at a gentle pace.

They reached the Heinst family’s burial grounds more slowly than usual.

Perhaps Carcel wanted to delay the inevitable reunion with Edgar.

Once there, he dismounted but hesitated to move further.

Charlotte held his hand, her other hand gripping the wreath tightly.

She didn’t rush him. She simply stood by his side, waiting for him to gather his courage.

Eventually, Carcel straightened and led her into the cemetery.

The wreaths Charlotte had left days ago still adorned the graves of the former Duke and Duchess. New offerings surrounded them—flowers left by other visitors.

But Edgar’s grave remained untouched, barren and forgotten.

Though it was expected, the sight still felt unbearably bleak.

Wordlessly, Charlotte handed Carcel the wreath, silently urging him to reconnect with his twin brother.

“There’s faint mana near your mother’s grave,” she said softly. “Can you sense it?”

His breath hitched as he nodded.

“Yes, I feel it.”

Still, he didn’t move.

Charlotte placed a comforting hand on his back, her touch silently conveying understanding and support.

Finally, Carcel stepped forward toward the empty space where Edgar rested.

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