Double Rebirth: From His Wife to His Brother's Bride

After walking out of the living room, Rowan Blackwood looked at Lyra Whitmore affectionately. The moment he noticed me stepping out, he instantly became wary, shielding Lyra behind his back.

"Why are you following us? Don't think I'll choose you just because you're pretending to be pitiful now. My fiancee can only be Lyra; a malicious woman like you isn't even worthy of carrying Lyra's shoes. In fact, you belong with my older brother, whose days are numbered!"

The moment the words left his mouth, he shoved me away with brute force. Caught entirely off guard, I staggered and fell onto the cold floor. A sharp pain shot through my elbow.

Yet, he didn't even spare me a single glance. Holding Lyra close as she nestled in his arms, he left without a backward glance.

Propping myself up against the ground, I attempted to stand.

Just then, someone came to a slow halt right in front of me. I lifted my head and met the pale yet gentle face of Adrian Blackwood, Rowan's elder brother. I didn't know how long he had been standing there or how much he had seen.

"Do you like Rowan?" he asked.

I shook my head. "You're perfect just the way you are, Mr. Blackwood."

He froze for a moment. A faint trace of surprise flashed through his eyes, as if he hadn't expected me to respond in that manner. "What's your name?"

"Sylvia Laurent."

"Good to know." He held out his hand. His palm wasn't warm—it was actually a bit chilly—yet he helped me up from the ground.

I followed Adrian into his courtyard, a place so quiet it almost felt desolate. Slowly, he took off his coat and hung it on the coat rack beside him.

"My health isn't great, and I can't bear loud noises, so I live out here." He turned his head, looking at me with an apathetic gaze. "I'm sorry to put you through this."

"Not at all," I responded softly.

I hadn't expected Adrian to be this kind of person. After all, in my previous life, I had never heard a single good thing about him from Rowan's mouth.

Gloomy, withdrawn, short-lived, and despised by their father… These words had formed almost the entirety of my impression of Adrian.

In my previous life, shortly after I was chosen to be Rowan's fiancee, Adrian fell gravely ill and went abroad for treatment. By the time I heard news of him again, it was already word of his death.

At that point, he had long been forgotten by his family, reduced to nothing more than a short-lived ghost whom everyone sighed over for a brief moment before pushing him to the back of their minds.

I wanted to speak up, but in the very next second, Adrian turned and went back to his room, leaving me all alone in the living room.

"Ms. Laurent," the butler, Cyrus Long, called out. "Mr. Blackwood fancies his peace and quiet. In time... you'll get used to it."

So, I stayed in Adrian's courtyard villa. I began to learn pharmacology from Cyrus, identifying medicinal herbs and even trying my hand at the simplest acupuncture techniques. In the courtyard's study, there was an entire wall lined with medical books, many of which were thread-bound old volumes.

Every day, I would stay up until the dead of night. The housekeeper, Agnes Hale, often brought me late-night snacks. Spotting me sitting before those thick medical books with ink all over my hands, she couldn't help but sigh. "Why do you push yourself so hard, Ms. Laurent?"

She set the warm milk down. "Mr. Rowan's fiancee, Ms. Whitmore, does nothing more each day than go shopping, drink tea, and buy endless new clothes. You, on the other hand…"