The Male Lead isn't Following the Script!
Chapter 161: Mockery

Chapter 161: Mockery

The servants had watched in silent horror as her trunks were carried across the estate, and whispers of her audacity spread like wildfire.

Benedict had heard them too, and the knowledge had sent him spiralling further into despair. How could she desecrate his mother’s memory so brazenly? And why was no one stopping her?

How could his father... How could he do this?! The answer was as plain as it was infuriating: no one dared. Anna had somehow won over the Duke’s favour, and with it, the implied authority to do as she pleased.

Her boldness was backed by the Duke’s indifference, leaving the servants powerless to intervene. Even those who had served the late Duchess loyally for years were forced to bow their heads and follow Anna’s commands.

Benedict clenched his fists at the thought of it, his nails digging into his palms until they left crescent-shaped marks. He wanted to do something—anything—to stop her. But every time he resolved to confront her, a crushing wave of helplessness swept over him.

What could he do? His father would not listen to him, and the household had already accepted Anna as the new mistress in all but name.

He tried to distract himself by pacing the length of his room, but the oppressive silence only made his thoughts louder.

His mother’s laughter echoed in his memory, a cruel reminder of what had been stolen from him. He could still see her smile, and hear the gentle love in her voice as she spoke his name. Now, all of it was gone. Snuffed out in an instant.

The day of the funeral arrived, and the estate buzzed with activity. Guests began to arrive, their carriages pulling up to the grand entrance in a steady procession.

The air was heavy with a mix of grief and propriety as nobles from across the Northern Duchy gathered to pay their respects. Inside, Anna flitted between guests, her expression carefully crafted to convey solemnity.

Yet there was an unmistakable glint of satisfaction in her eyes—a subtle triumph at being at the centre of such a significant event.

The Duke did not invite anyone from the Capital. He invited only a few people... By he... It was obviously Anna. She didn’t think the late Duchess deserved people like the Emperor attending...

Benedict remained in his room, his curtains drawn tightly shut. He could not bring himself to face the mourners, much less endure Anna’s presence.

The thought of seeing her standing where his mother should have been, accepting condolences as though she belonged there, was too much to bear.

He knew he should go—knew that his absence would be noticed and commented upon—but he couldn’t muster the strength to leave. Not when every step felt like a betrayal of his mother’s memory.

The hours dragged on, and Benedict’s solitude was broken only by the occasional knock at his door. The servants wanted him to come out, they wanted him to attend the funeral.

Each time, he ignored it, waiting until the footsteps retreated down the hall before letting out the breath. The servants meant well, he knew that, but their pity only deepened his misery.

In the late afternoon, the sound of distant voices reached his ears. The funeral procession was beginning. He stood by the window, peeking through a small gap in the curtains as the mourners gathered in the snow-covered courtyard.

The casket, adorned with white lilies, was carried out by a solemn procession of pallbearers. His heart clenched at the sight, and for a moment, he considered rushing down to join them.

But then his gaze landed on Anna, standing at the forefront of the crowd with his father by her side. The sight made his stomach turn.

His father was trying to keep it under wraps and move on as soon as possible... He knew it. He never cared about his mother. It was all a lie.

How could she stand there, acting as though she had any right to grieve? And how could his father allow it?

It was as though he had already accepted Anna as his replacement for the Duchess—a thought that made Benedict’s blood boil.

As the ceremony progressed, Benedict sank to the floor, his back against the wall. The muffled sound of prayers drifted through the window, mingling with the distant cries of mourners.

He pressed his hands to his ears, desperate to drown it out. He did not want to hear their platitudes or their hollow condolences. None of it could bring his mother back.

The hours passed in a haze, and when the funeral finally ended, the estate fell into an uneasy quiet. The guests departed one by one, leaving only the family and the closest of the Duchess’s confidants.

Benedict stayed in his room, unwilling to face the aftermath. He felt trapped in an endless cycle of grief and rage, unable to move forward yet unwilling to let go.

As night fell, a knock at his door broke the silence. This time, it was accompanied by a familiar voice. "Benedict," said the head maid, her tone gentle. "I brought you some supper. You should eat something."

The nanny who always watched over him was long gone... Seemed like Anna got rid of her long before her plans had been set into motion.

He didn’t respond, and after a moment, the sound of retreating footsteps signalled her departure. He stared at the untouched plate she left behind, the sight filling him with a bitter sense of defeat. How had it come to this? How had his family fallen so far, so quickly?

The answer eluded him, but one thing was certain: Anna’s rise to power was far from over. And if he did not find a way to stop her, the Northern Duchy his mother had cherished would soon become unrecognisable.

Soon, days passed. Benedict had changed... For the worse. His eyes lacked any light. He had been rallying all the servants who were still loyal to the late Duchess.

He has decided to make her life a living hell. The maids started being disrespectful to her and she went to complain to the Duke! But he only looked at her and spit, "If you can’t handle being a Duchess, you may resign."

She threatened to cut their salaries if they didn’t do their jobs correctly. They did not care. They had the young master backing them.

When Anna tried to fire them, she met with an obstacle. The head butler refused to do so, Benedict ordered them to stay. When she confronted Benedict she realised that he was not the young boy she could manipulate.

He looked at her and scoffed, "You’re a new hire. They’ve been here since the beginning. As the young master, I look after my people."

She wanted to yell at him. How dare he try to create trouble for her, but before she could say anything he taunted her back, "Go ahead. Complain to my father. I dare you."

Anna remained rooted, she was shaking from anger. He knew very well that she couldn’t do that... He already mocked her once... Asking her to resign if she couldn’t handle it...

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