Placing the Inheritance Letter on the desk, Rosaria pressed both hands to her forehead and looked down in despair.
Was her insides doing a little happy dance from joy, or was something wrong with her stomach?
Rosaria’s gaze fell back onto the letter, and she sighed a second time.
“…Why did it have to come to this…”
A gloomy murmur.
It didn’t seem to be about her stomach.
‘You’re not happy about being accepted as the heir?’
Frowning, Annamaria watched her listless back.
If Rosaria were bouncing around in excitement, it would fuel her own irritation toward her, but the back in her sight contained zero fuel.
‘What is this? You should be happier!’
If anything could amplify her irritation toward Rosaria, Annamaria’s fighting spirit would flare up deep inside.
It was unpleasant but also a stimulus, and she unconsciously sought that twisted desire.
It was a troublesome trait indeed.
After a moment, as if making up her mind, Rosaria stood and left the room.
Sensing something unusual in her stiff profile, Annamaria hurriedly used magic to unlock the window latch, creating a gap, and slipped out after her.
She quietly slipped out of the room.
The second-floor hallway was dim.
It was dusk.
The lamps along the corridor were not yet lit.
Weak evening light filtered in through the farthest window on the west side, but it wasn’t enough to brighten the entire hallway.
At the eastern end of the hallway, Rosaria stood facing a door.
Annamaria had heard that this side of the second floor was once the Countess Romano’s chamber.
Mourning the Countess’s death, the room had been left undisturbed with the door closed.
But—if it had really been the Countess’s room, it was too far from the Count’s chambers, and judging by the mansion’s layout, the room seemed small.
She had always thought it strange, but since it was another estate, she hadn’t paid it much mind.
Rosaria stared at the door for a while, then knocked, as if steeling herself.
“Brother.”
She called inside.
“You hear me, right, Brother Luca?”
Annamaria, creeping along the ceiling and hiding in a nook, tilted her raised serpentine neck.
‘…Brother? Brother… wait… brother!?’
She nearly fell from the ceiling, hastily tightening the scales on her belly to hold herself in place.
‘Rosaria has a brother? No, that’s impossible.’
They had visited each other’s estates since they were very young.
Their fathers had dined together often, and they had played together many times.
She had even stayed overnight here.
Yet neither from Rosaria, Count Romano, nor Count Furlanetto had the word “brother” ever come up.
Neither the steward, the knights, the maids, cooks, nor the gardeners had ever mentioned a brother.
‘If Rosaria had a brother, surely he would inherit the title instead of her.’
Perhaps an older male relative Rosaria looked up to as a brother was staying in this room.
Annamaria tried to remain calm and imagine possibilities.
Still, the Romano estate had guest chambers.
Why this particular room?
“The King has officially issued an Inheritance Letter recognizing me as the heir to Count Romano. If this continues, I will truly succeed to the title. This is… wrong. Even though you exist, Brother, I’m the one inheriting the title.”
Annamaria tightened the scales on her belly again to prevent falling.
‘He really is her brother!?’
She fought to keep from dropping from shock.
“Brother Luca. Please come out.”
There was a pleading tone in Rosaria’s voice.
“Is this because of me? Please answer me, Brother.”
But no reply came from inside—not even a sound.
“…Please answer.”
Tears glistened on Rosaria’s downcast cheek.
Annamaria was taken aback, and the shock faded into something irritating.
‘Tears… such a spoiler! Boring. So boring!’
She averted her eyes, crawled along the ceiling, and slipped out of the room.
Then, running as fast as a poisonous snake could through the mansion, she returned to her own room and climbed onto her lap.
‘My body, call my soul!’
Reciting the spell, her viewpoint suddenly rose, and she returned to her original form.
Clapping her hands, the poisonous snake vanished from her lap.
“That was quick. What happened? Rosaria’s still awake, right? Did she suddenly have a change of heart and come back without doing anything? That can’t be it. Something’s wrong, isn’t it?”
Galileo, lying on the bed, stretched and spoke lazily, but seeing Annamaria’s expression, he shuddered all over.
“What happened!? You look like a fire dragon with your scales peeled off!”
Annamaria stood, her brows raised sharply.
“…Father must have known.” She muttered, suppressing her anger.
“W-what? What do you mean?” Galileo shrank back nervously.
Then, contrasting his fearful voice, a cheerful, carefree tone echoed through the room.
“Annamaria! Oh, my daughter Annamaria! Your father has returned from the Royal Capital!”
The door opened, and a middle-aged man dressed in a long black coat entered, practically dancing.
It was Annamaria’s father, Count Furlanetto.
“Look! A souvenir! Dried frogs branded by the Magic Medicine Guild. And I’ve got the best news for you!”
Count Furlanetto ignored his daughter’s expression, clutching the dried frogs in one hand while spreading his arms for a hug.
Annamaria charged forward, grabbing him by the collar.
“You knew, didn’t you!? Tell me you knew!”
Shaken by her grip, Count Furlanetto smiled awkwardly but looked confused.
“Oh? What’s wrong, Annamaria? You’re more energetic than usual today.”
“You knew, didn’t you!? Absolutely.”
“What do you mean, Annamaria?”
“That there is a brother above Rosaria in the Romano family!”
“Ah—… well… ah… about that…” Count Furlanetto deliberately averted his eyes.
“There is a brother, isn’t there?”
“Well… I’m not sure. I don’t really remember. Oh, right, I have to give a souvenir to Cast, too… Annamaria, please let go of my hand…”
Annamaria clenched her fists tightly, glaring at him with such intensity that the Count seemed to give up and looked back at her.
“Alright, alright. Annamaria. You found out, huh? I’ll tell you everything… so please let go. You’re cutting off my air.”