I Accidentally Saved The Male Lead’s Brother Chapter 146

Charlotte leaned her head against Carcel’s shoulder and murmured softly. In response, he planted a light kiss on the crown of her head.

“I feel the same way. But what brings you here today?”

“Do I need a reason to come? Can’t I visit just because I want to see you?”

When Charlotte’s voice turned slightly sulky, Carcel quickly responded,

“Of course, you can.”

His warm laughter made Charlotte feel a pang of guilt. She did have a purpose for her visit today.

She waited for the maid to finish pouring tea and leave the study before speaking.

“I did want to see you, but there’s something I’d like to discuss.”

“Is that so?”

“Are you disappointed?”

“Not at all.”

Carcel gently stroked her hair and answered without hesitation.

“I’m fine as long as I get to see your face.”

Charlotte chuckled and held his hand.

“For someone who doesn’t seem like the type, you’re surprisingly good at saying things like that.”

Carcel didn’t answer, only smiling silently.

Charlotte moved closer and sat right next to him.

“So, what is it you wanted to discuss?”

“Do you remember when the three of us got fitted for matching outfits recently?”

“Yes, of course.”

“I was thinking we could wear them and have a family portrait painted.”

“A portrait?”

“Yes.”

Lately, Charlotte had been consumed by worries. Viscount Lister, the enigmatic Lionel Wisner, and the increasingly revealed forces targeting Theo.

As their adversaries began to show themselves, a sense of unease grew stronger.

How long will these peaceful days last? Can we truly eliminate the threat at its roots? And…

…can I really stay by Theo and Carcel’s side?

She hoped her fears were unfounded, but the anxiety, especially after coughing up blood, wouldn’t go away.

Before anything changed, she wanted to preserve a memory of the three of them together.

But that wasn’t the only reason.

“Lately, Theo has been growing up so fast. I want to capture this moment before he gets any bigger.”

Theo’s adorably small and charming self was changing by the day. Charlotte wanted to immortalize his current form in a painting.

Fortunately, Carcel seemed persuaded. He nodded and replied,

“Understood. I’ll arrange it immediately.”

The very next day, an artist arrived at the Heinst estate.

***

“Wowww!”

Theo exclaimed as he stared at his reflection in the mirror.

The little boy pressed his small palms against the glass, tilting his head this way and that to examine his appearance.

Dressed in an immaculate white suit, Theo seemed quite taken with himself.

Charlotte chuckled as she brushed his hair back, styling it like Carcel’s. Meeting her gaze in the mirror, Theo turned abruptly and leapt into her arms.

“Princess Sister!”

“Do you like my dress?”

“Yeah!”

Emma looked concerned about the dress getting wrinkled, but Charlotte let Theo enjoy the moment to his heart’s content.

At this age, children grew so fast that each day felt precious.

Charlotte hugged Theo tightly, savoring the innocent, baby-like scent unique to him, before carrying him to the chair.

Meanwhile, Carcel, who had been chatting with the artist, approached and took a seat beside her. Theo now sat between them.

Carcel reached over and gently wrapped an arm around Charlotte’s shoulders. At the same time, the artist began sketching on the canvas, the soft scratching of his pencil filling the sunlit room.

Time passed peacefully. But soon, Theo began fidgeting and squirming.

Finally, he hopped off the chair with a little bounce.

“I’m bored!”

“Theo, come here,” Charlotte called, stretching out a hand.

But the boy shook his head vigorously, his whole body expressing his refusal. Seeing her predicament, the middle-aged artist chuckled heartily.

“Master Theo has done very well. Children his age usually can’t sit still at all. It’s fine—please remain as you are.”

“Zoom!”

Theo darted behind the artist, holding a wooden bird toy. His golden hair shimmered brilliantly in the spring sunlight streaming through the window.

Charlotte laughed softly, leaning her head on Carcel’s shoulder.

“This is wonderful,” she said.

The artist adjusted his pencil and squinted, evaluating the composition, before nodding in approval.

Theo, after darting around the room, noticed how close Charlotte and Carcel were. Puffing up his cheeks, he quickly ran back to the chair.

Wiggling his way between them, he declared,

“Theo too!”

“Alright, Theo too,” Charlotte said, lifting him onto her lap.

The tranquil moment continued. Eventually, even Charlotte began to feel her back ache from sitting so long. Just as her concentration wavered, the artist set down his pencil.

The three of them approached the large canvas to see the sketch.

“Wowww!” Theo exclaimed again.

Charlotte silently admired the work.

Though it was only a rough sketch, the likeness was remarkable. Each person’s unique features were captured perfectly—especially Theo’s round, chubby cheeks, which were irresistibly endearing.

“It’s amazing. I can’t wait to see it finished.”

At her praise, the artist placed a hand over his heart and bowed respectfully.

“I will do my utmost to create a masterpiece.”

Promising to return soon to complete the painting, the artist left. Theo, now changed out of his suit, quickly fell asleep, exhausted from the excitement.

****

As Charlotte stepped out of Theo’s room, she found Carcel waiting for her by the door.

“Charlotte.”

His tone was calm, but his face carried a subtle tension that made her throat tighten.

“Yes?”

“Can we talk for a moment?”

There was something serious in his expression. Though curious, Charlotte didn’t press him then and simply followed him to his study.

This time, Carcel didn’t call for tea or refreshments. He gestured for her to sit, while he remained standing by his desk, silent for a long while.

Charlotte opened her mouth to speak several times but hesitated each time. Finally, Carcel approached and broke the silence.

“You mentioned meeting someone named Lionel Wisner at the New Year’s ball.”

Charlotte nodded, recalling the man with brown hair and eyes.

“Yes. Have you looked into him?”

“Yes.”

“Is he connected to Viscount Lister?”

“Yes. It seems Viscount Lister owed a debt to the late Count Wisner.”

Carcel continued,

“Viscount Lister is not the biological son of the late Viscount but was adopted. The late Count Wisner discovered his talent for magic and sponsored him before he was adopted into the Lister family.”

He paused briefly before continuing.

“I suspect that it wasn’t the late Count who found him but Lionel Wisner himself.”

Charlotte nodded cautiously. It seemed likely.

“And there’s more. According to the investigation, the late Count’s sister had an illicit relationship with Marquess Petrion.”

Carcel recalled the information Chase had provided that morning.

It was an old rumor, but there had been whispers that the Count’s sister had secretly been involved with the Marquess.

Charlotte’s eyes widened as she made the connection.

“Then… that means…”

Though she trailed off, Carcel finished her thought with certainty.

“Yes.”

His voice grew cold, and his eyes sharpened.

“It’s highly likely that Lionel Wisner is the one truly behind the attempts on Theo’s life.”

As the pieces fell into place, the entire scheme began to make sense.

The late Count’s sister must have had a child with Marquess Petrion. Her brother, the Count, raised the child as his own to protect their secret.

When the Petrion family was destroyed, Lionel, aware of his true lineage, developed a grudge against the Heinst family.

It was a cruel, predictable story—one of vengeance born from loss and directed at the innocent.

“So… do we capture Lionel?”

“Unfortunately, it’s not that simple.”

“Why not?”

“On the surface, Lionel Wisner hasn’t done anything illegal.”

“Oh…”

Charlotte felt deflated. She understood his point—there was no concrete evidence.

The closest thing they had was Penelope’s bracelet, which had triggered Carcel’s memories. But even that was technically given by Viscount Lister, not Lionel.

The bracelet had been designed to provoke Carcel into a magical outburst. If it had worked, the consequences would have been catastrophic. But without tangible proof, the bracelet was worthless as evidence.

Moreover, revealing Carcel’s Rositto nature wasn’t an option.

“Then what should we do?”

“We need more definitive evidence.”

Carcel didn’t elaborate further, but Charlotte already understood what he meant.

He intended to use himself as bait—just as he had mentioned days ago.