The Male Lead isn't Following the Script!
Chapter 238: The Saintess

Chapter 238: The Saintess

"Congratulations on the victory, First Prince."

The voice pulled Cassian out of his thoughts, and as he turned, he immediately recognised the speaker. Alaric, the newly titled Western Marquess, stood before him, his posture straight and his eyes sharp.

The man’s tone carried the courtesy expected of nobility, but it was devoid of any warmth.

Instead, his gaze was cold and unkind even though he wore a neutral expression.

Cassian’s piercing blue eyes narrowed slightly as he studied Alaric. He knew well enough that this man never liked him, but it was rare for Alaric to make his disdain so apparent... That too in public no less.

"Thank you," Cassian replied coolly, his voice as calm as he could manage. He was already calculating how Alaric would be an obstacle.

"I hear your wedding will be held soon..."

He had heard rumours of Alaric’s impending nuptials and knew it could serve as an excuse to meet Adeline. The royal family would naturally be invited to such an event, and it would provide a rare opportunity to see her outside of formal court events.

Alaric’s lips pressed into a thin line, his eyes darkening at the mention of his upcoming wedding. "Yes," he said curtly, he did not mince his words and spoke clearly. "It will be a small ceremony with only family present."

The subtle edge in his voice was not lost on Cassian. The message was clear: Alaric had no intention of allowing the Crown Prince, or anyone else from the royal family to attend.

Whether it was a genuine preference for a private affair or a deliberate slight aimed at him, Cassian couldn’t be sure, but it hardly mattered.

The royal family was hardly the pinnacle of a happy marriage and family, having them there was like bad luck to him, he was not going to start his life with the woman he loved with that kind of energy around him.

Also, knowing how hurt his sister was... It gave him the opportunity to not hide his frustration with the first prince. He never liked this kid, not now, not ever. He was not suitable for Adeline.

She would joke that she would not marry and live with him forever, and if that’s what she wanted, he’d be more than happy to oblige.

Cassian’s face remained impassive as he locked eyes with Alaric, he did not respond. Instead, he gave a subtle, unreadable smirk and said nothing more. His silence was louder than any words he could have spoken, and it left Alaric visibly unsettled.

Cassian turned away, leaving the tension hanging in the air, and moved deeper into the palace. The exchange replayed in his mind, but it wasn’t Alaric’s hostility that lingered.

Instead, it was the confirmation of something he had long suspected: Alaric’s dislike for him ran deeper than court politics.

Well, that did not matter. Nothing would stop him from getting what he wanted.

The grand dining hall was abuzz with chatter and laughter as the celebration meal for Cassian began. The most notable nobles in the Empire filled the room, they were very eager to please the prince who was in the spotlight.

Among them were a few young ladies, each dressed to impress, their eyes darting toward Cassian with a mix of admiration and hope.

They whispered among themselves, fanning their faces as they watched him from across the room. Cassian, now a war hero, had become even more striking. His tall frame and cold, regal demeanour made him the centre of attention, but their efforts to catch his gaze earned them nothing more than a polite smile.

Cassian scanned the room, his expression unreadable as always, he hoped he would see someone but as expected, she was not there. He was not surprised.

"Well, you barely changed," a familiar voice called out, cutting through the noise.

Cassian turned to see Benedict approaching, a wide grin on his face. The Northern Duke, known for his unshakable composure, seemed genuinely pleased to see him.

"Benedict," Cassian greeted him with a nod, his tone cool and measured as always.

"That’s it?" Benedict laughed, shaking his head in false disbelief. "Wow, so cold. I was expecting at least a handshake or something. Anyway, congrats on making it back in one piece. I know somebody has been missing you."

That immediately caught his attention. His sharp eyes locked onto Benedict, who had a mischievous glint in his own.

Benedict laughed cruelly, clearly enjoying himself. The reaction he’d drawn from Cassian was small, but it was enough. He could feel the tension simmering beneath the surface.

Cassian’s jaw tightened. The idea of Benedict and Adeline growing closer while he was away was rage-inducing. He hated even entertaining the thought.

Before Cassian could respond, the room fell silent as the doors at the far end opened. The Emperor entered, but he was not alone. A young woman walked beside him with her head held high.

She had an air of grace about her, her brown hair glowed golden when catching the light as she moved. Her smile was radiant, designed to capture the attention of everyone in the room, and it succeeded. Whispers rippled through the crowd as heads turned to watch her.

The Emperor raised his hand for silence and spoke. "Everyone, this is the envoy from the Holy Temple, the newly declared Saintess, Annora. She will be joining us."

Alaric, who stood near the back of the hall, narrowed his eyes. His expression remained neutral, but his mind was racing. He knew all too well what had transpired between Annora and his sister.

This woman was highly suspicious. He would have to keep a close eye on her. But as Alaric turned to glance at Benedict, he noticed something strange. The Northern Duke, usually cold and composed was rooted to the spot. His mouth was slightly open and his gaze never left Annora.

Alaric frowned. This was odd. Benedict wasn’t the type to lose his composure over a mere girl. Following his gaze, Alaric’s eyes landed on Annora. The bad feeling he had been harbouring only grew stronger.

Still, now wasn’t the time to dwell on it. The Emperor gestured for everyone to take their seats, and the nobles moved to the grand dining table that stretched down the centre of the hall.

Cassian, too, moved to his seat near the head of the table. The Emperor sat at the head of the table, to his right was Cassian and to his left was Annora... Cassian and she were sitting across from each other.

Annora smiled, her expression bright and seemingly innocent.

"Prince Cassian," she said warmly, her voice carrying just enough volume to draw attention from nearby nobles. "It’s an honour to sit beside such a celebrated hero."

Cassian regarded her silently for a moment, his piercing eyes studying her face. Then, to everyone’s surprise, he returned her smile.

It had to be out of obligation, right? Because she was his father’s guest he smiled at her, right? Everyone knew how much the Royal family and the Holy Temple were at odds, maybe that grudge had been resolved and the dust started to settle.

Everyone was coming up with their own theories.

"It is I who am honoured, Saintess," he replied, his tone polite.

At the far end of the table, Benedict’s hands clenched into fists under the tablecloth. His mind was racing, his thoughts chaotic.

Meanwhile, Alaric kept a close watch on both Benedict and Annora, his sharp eyes missing nothing. What was wrong with Benedict? He knew the Northern Duke since he was a young boy and this was out of the ordinary. Something was up.

As the meal progressed, the Emperor addressed the room, speaking of Cassian’s victories and the Empire’s triumphs. Glasses were raised in toasts, and laughter filled the hall.

Except Alaric and Benedict everyone else was at ease. However, the thoughts of the two were very different.

Cassian barely touched his food, his mind elsewhere. The nobles around him were little more than background noise as he focused on the one thing that truly mattered- Adeline.

When the evening finally drew to a close, Cassian rose from his seat, his expression as unreadable as ever. Annora watched him go, her smile unwavering, but there was something unsettling about the way her eyes followed him.

As he walked through the silent corridors of the palace, his thoughts returned to her. No matter how much time passed, no matter how many battles he fought, she was always there. In his thoughts, she accompanied him.

Did she ever think of him as much as he thought of her? Or was he simply forgotten? No, he will not allow that. She has to remember him, and he will make sure of it.

He clenched his fists. Tomorrow, he would find her. He would make her listen.

A black fog slowly emerged from the lake... The very lake that he once fell into and Adeline saved him. It wanted to envelop him and devour him... Just like it did with others... "Who’s there?!"

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