My Bratty Wife

Ryan stared at his brother, the man he had grown up with, played with, and, in his own way, always loved. The boy whose quiet moods he had never truly understood was now revealed as a monster, a creature forged in a crucible of trauma so profound it had twisted his very soul. Every murder, every conspiracy, every crime that had fallen over the duchy for the past year now had a face, and it was the face of his own brother.

Ryan finally found his voice, a raw, broken whisper. There was one more piece, one more recent death that needed its place in this horrific confession. "Evan..." he began, the name tasting like ash. "Did you kill Evan, too?"

Byron, who had been standing with tears marking paths through the grime on his face, let out a sharp, dismissive laugh that held no humor, only contempt, only hatred. "That bastard?" he sneered. "He kept getting on my nerves, always sniffing around, trying to use me as a pawn in his pathetic games against you. But he drew the final line when he started getting too close to the truth about me, about the Golden Goblet incident. I guess you didn’t know about this too right? I made sure to remove my involvement but as usual, Evan didn’t know when to stop and he was being stupid about it. He had to go, brother. He just had to go."

The admission was casual, as if discussing the culling of a rabid dog, not the murder of a member of the family.

Tears, hot and silent, finally overflowed and streamed down Ryan’s face. He thought of Cassandra, of her almost dying in the well, of the terror she had endured, all stemming from this... this web of death spun by Byron.

Another memory, a puzzle piece that had never quite fit, surfaced. "And the assassin?" he asked, his voice trembling. "Months ago, I was attacked. The attempt failed. I was told... I thought it was all Evan’s plan. But... were you the one who sent that assassin in the first place?"

Byron’s chilling smile returned, a glint of pride in his eyes. "Ah, that. An unfortunate necessity. You were becoming too nosy, big brother," he replied, his tone almost conversational. " Thorne was feeding you with more information than necessary. Your investigation was getting closer, more personal. I couldn’t risk you uncovering everything before my work was done. So, yes. I had to do it. It’s a shame Evan intervened and ruined Elias work."

That was it. The final, most personal betrayal. To know that his own brother, the only family he had left in the world, had not only orchestrated the chaos around them but had actively sought his death. The last thread of hope, of denial, snapped within Ryan. The love he had always held for the brother he thought he knew curdled into a grief so profound it felt like a physical slap to the face. With a hand that shook violently, he raised his own pistol, its heavy weight a terrible burden, and aimed it at Byron.

"How could you?" Ryan’s voice broke, a raw sound of utter heartbreak. "Byron, how could you? I love you. Despite everything, despite our differences, I have always loved since the day father brought you home. I loved you like the only family I have. You are literally the only family I have left." His vision blurred through his tears. "And you... you betrayed me. You betrayed everything."

Byron, faced with his brother’s armed and heartbroken condemnation, did not flinch. His own grief and madness mixed into a final, defiant fury. "I DID NOTHING WRONG!" he shouted, his voice echoing through the ruins, startling the very shadows. "I simply avenged my mother! She was wronged! She was destroyed! I killed the people who were responsible for her suffering, the people who stood by and let her die!" He took a step forward, his eyes wild, pleading, demanding. "Tell me, Ryan! Tell me what part of that was wrong? Did our father not deserve to die for his cruelty? Did the Parliament not deserve to pay for their hypocrisy? Did they not all get what they deserved?!"