"A monster?"
Gilbert had actually called Dahlia Valentino a monster?
Rose stood, clutching her brother's wig in her hand, and felt a migraine beginning to form in her head.
She had, of course, heard many rumors about the Valentino family. Who hadn't? Legends circulated about this family that made ordinary people's blood run cold.
And it wasn't just about their colossal power and influence.
Every member of this family was a personality capable of inspiring awe even in battle-hardened veterans.
The current head of the house, Duke Valentino, bore the nickname "The Fearless Wolf." A legendary general who personally led soldiers into attack and tore out enemies' throats with his own hands on the battlefield. His name instilled terror in the armies of neighboring states.
The Duchess Valentino was no less impressive a figure. Unlike ordinary noble ladies who only knew how to manage servants and host tea parties, the Duchess had been an elite assassin in the past. It was rumored that she had dozens, if not hundreds, of high-profile kills from enemy states to her name.
The funniest part was how they met.
The Duchess, then a spy from an enemy empire, was sent to Cordron with a single mission: to kill the Fearless Wolf while the war was ongoing. After all, the entire defense of the Empire rested on him.
But instead of killing the Duke, she... married him.
This was arguably the most scandalous and shocking wedding in the history of the Empire.
And to this day, the Duchess occasionally carried out "delicate assignments" related to her former profession. Only now — for the benefit of the Cordron Empire.
The union of a former enemy assassin and a ruthless war hero... such a couple could indeed frighten anyone.
And if you dug deeper, the previous generations of Valentinos were also famous for their harsh temper and dark deeds.
In short, this was a family that normal people preferred to stay far away from. And yet they had managed to climb to the very pinnacle of power.
But as for the current heiress, Dahlia Valentino...
Rose, honestly, hadn't heard anything particularly remarkable about her.
The girl led such a reclusive life that almost no rumors circulated about her. She rarely appeared in society, didn't attend balls, didn't participate in social events.
However, since their families were bound by an old betrothal, Rose had seen Dahlia in person a few times.
In childhood, during rare joint receptions. And quite recently, when the Valentino family visited them to discuss the wedding details.
And both times, Dahlia made the impression of a... completely ordinary girl.
Calm, well-mannered, a little shy. She spoke softly, behaved modestly. No bloodthirsty aura, no hint of madness or cruelty.
Unlike her parents, who inspired awe with their mere presence, Dahlia seemed quite normal.
So why was Gilbert suddenly spouting this nonsense?
Rose snorted.
"Don't talk nonsense," she cut him off. "What monster are you talking about?"
"I'm telling the truth!" Gilbert threw up his hands in despair. "She's not a woman, she's a real monster in human form!"
"Enough," Rose's voice hardened. "Do you think you can wiggle out of the wedding with such ridiculous excuses? You will marry her, and that's final."
Gilbert smiled bitterly.
"Ridiculous excuses? So you don't believe me?"
"Of course I don't believe you," Rose frowned. "Lady Dahlia is a wonderful, well-mannered girl from a noble family. Your slander against her is completely groundless."
"You say that because you've never interacted closely with her!" hysterical notes sounded in Gilbert's voice. "You don't know her at all!"
"I don't need to know her," Rose retorted. "She's your fiancée. So it's your job to get to know her better and get along with her."
Gilbert took a deep breath, trying to calm down. Useless. Arguing with his sister when she was in this state was like banging his head against a wall.
"Fine..." he said slowly. "But I'm not marrying her anyway. Don't even try to convince me otherwise."
...
Silence hung in the men's restroom. All that could be heard was the drip of water from a not-quite-closed faucet somewhere.
"Sister?" Gilbert called cautiously, worried by her silence.
"So that's how it is?" Rose smiled. But it wasn't the kind of smile that warms. It was the smile of a predator who had sensed prey. "Fine."
Gilbert felt a chill run down his spine.
"You don't want to marry Dahlia Valentino. You don't want to become head of the family." Rose paused, and her voice took on dangerous, icy undertones. "In that case... how about at least paying with your organs?"
"Wh-what?!"
"Do you have any idea how much money Mother and I spent searching for you?" Rose began counting on her fingers. "You need to somehow compensate for that damage."
Gilbert's eyes bulged.
"S-sister... I'm your own brother! How can you joke so cruelly?!"
"And who said I'm joking?" Rose tilted her head, and an ominous glint sparkled in her violet eyes. "What other use could you possibly be, besides selling you for organs?"
Gilbert looked at her with horror.
His eyes gradually filled with moisture.
"Sister... are you... are you really so heartless?" his voice trembled. "Am I really just... a bag of organs to you?"
"No," Rose replied coldly. "You are a source of problems for me. And if selling your organs helps solve even part of them, dear brother, I will stop at nothing. Maybe I'll even sell you into slavery. I hear they pay well for young, handsome boys in the south."
Real tears welled up in Gilbert's eyes.
"Oh, it's always like this!" he exclaimed resentfully. "You've been threatening to sell me into slavery since childhood! And now organs too!"
"Dreams should come true," Rose remarked philosophically.
"You and that woman are just made for each other!" Gilbert blurted out bitterly. "Just as heartless monsters! Why don't you marry her yourself?!"
"What are you..."
But Rose didn't get to finish.
Because at that very moment, the door to the men's restroom crashed open.
Rose froze.
She had locked the door! She was sure she had locked it!
Or hadn't she?...
In any case, it didn't matter now.
Because a whole crowd of students burst into the restroom.
At the front, with the most worried expression, marched Zeke and his gang. Behind them crowded Gilbert's friends and simply onlookers drawn by the commotion.
They all froze on the threshold, taking in the scene before them.
Gilbert was kneeling before some unfamiliar young man.
Gilbert was crying. Real, salty tears, which he was smearing across his cheeks with his sleeve.
Gilbert... was without his wig.
His pink hair was disheveled and sticking out in all directions.
And in this stranger's hand was clutched... a wig. The very same wheat-blonde wig that Gilbert had been wearing all these months.
Silence.
A deathly, deafening silence.
Then someone from Gilbert's friends breathed out:
"Payns... what happened to you?!"
"Why are you on your knees?!"
"And where are your hair?!"
"Payns, have you been wearing a wig all this time?!" another guy, apparently from his group, stared at Gilbert with wide eyes. "But why?!"
Gilbert froze.
He slowly shifted his gaze from his friends to his sister, then to the wig in her hand, then back to his friends.
The realization of what was happening crashed down on him like a ton of bricks.
They had seen him.
EVERYONE had seen him.
Rose remained silent, observing the turn of events with a stony face. But inside her, a strange feeling raged — a mix of schadenfreude, fatigue, and... sympathy? No, definitely not sympathy. Curiosity, rather — how would this idiot weasel his way out now?
Gilbert swallowed convulsively.
Thoughts raced feverishly through his mind, each one more absurd than the last.
And then, like a revelation, an idea came to him. Brilliant? Perhaps. Idiotic? Definitely.
But he had no choice.
Gilbert sniffled, wiped his tears, and raised his eyes to his friends, full of tragedy.
"The thing is," he began in a trembling voice. "That... I have premature baldness."
"WHAT?!" several voices breathed out simultaneously.
"Yes," Gilbert nodded, and another tear fell from his eye. "Since childhood. It started when I was fifteen. My hair fell out in clumps. I tried to get treatment, but nothing helped. I had to wear a wig. All these years. I never told anyone... because I was ashamed."
He lowered his head, feigning universal sorrow.
His friends looked at him with compassion and horror.
"Payns..." one of them stepped forward. "Why didn't you say so right away? We would have understood!"
"Yes, we're friends!" another chimed in. "You didn't need to hide!"
Gilbert sobbed.
"I was afraid you'd laugh... Or worse — pity me. I didn't want pity. I wanted to be normal."
Rose stood to the side, watching this theatrical performance with her mouth open.
Her brother had just...
He had just come up with the most idiotic excuse in the history of mankind on the spot.
And people believed it?!
"And who is this?" someone suddenly asked, pointing at Rose. "And why are you on your knees before him?"
Gilbert froze.
A new problem.
But he quickly found an answer:
"This... this is my cousin!" he blurted out. "From the northern provinces. We haven't seen each other for years, and he came to visit me. And I... I was so happy that my legs gave way. And I fell to my knees. From joy."
"From joy?" Zeke asked skeptically, who had been watching the proceedings closely.
"Yes! From joy!" Gilbert tried to muster a joyful smile, but with his eyes swollen from tears, it looked creepy.
Rose remained silent as a fish.
She looked at her brother and marveled at his audacity.
Cousin? From the north? Where did he even get that from?
And why was everyone nodding along as if this was the most reasonable explanation?!
Rose watched all this and felt her eye begin to twitch.
Her brother was a brilliant liar.
Simply brilliant.
It was just a shame he wasted his brilliance on such idiotic purposes.
"Alright," she finally said, taking the situation into her own hands. "Payns and I would like to talk privately. Family matters. Do you mind?"
"Oh, of course, of course!" Gilbert's friends nodded. "We'll go. Payns, hang in there! We're nearby if you need us!"
"Thanks, guys..." Gilbert replied in a weak voice.
The crowd of students reluctantly dispersed, carrying away fragments of conversation:
"Poor Payns, going bald at such a young age..."
"Yes, terrible. And I used to wonder why he always wore a hat."
"Makes sense now. We'll need to support him..."
Zeke turned back as he left and cast a strange glance at Rose. But he said nothing and was the last to leave, closing the door behind him.
The restroom was empty again.
Rose and Gilbert were alone.
Silence.
Gilbert slowly rose from his knees, brushing off his trousers.
"Well..." he began uncertainly. "It seems I sorted everything out?"
Rose turned to him.
Her face was absolutely calm. Too calm.
Gilbert realized this was a bad sign.
"Sister... what's wrong?"
"You," Rose took a step forward, "are a brilliant idiot!"
"Hey! I saved us both from exposure!"
"You said you have baldness!"
"Well, yeah! It explains the wig!"
"And why were you on your knees? 'Fell from joy'?!" Rose raised her voice. "Seriously?! Who, at eighteen years old, falls to their knees from joy at seeing their cousin?!"
"I... I'm an emotional person!"
"YOU'RE A MORON!"
Rose clutched her head.
This guy. This insufferable guy. He managed to get on her nerves even now, when she had traveled to the ends of the earth for him!