The Male Lead isn't Following the Script!
Chapter 256: Anger

Chapter 256: Anger

Adeline stepped out of the estate, shielding her eyes from the bright afternoon sun. After spending a week locked inside her room, the sunlight felt almost too harsh, but she forced herself to keep walking. She had no choice. Isabelle’s wedding was today, and she needed a dress.

Layla joined her just outside the gates, her usual cheerful energy shining through. "Finally decided to come back to the land of the living?" she teased, nudging Adeline’s side.

Adeline rolled her eyes. "I didn’t die, Layla. I was just... Resting."

"For a whole week?" Layla raised an eyebrow. "That’s not resting. That’s hibernating."

Adeline ignored her and started walking toward the shopping district. "Are you coming or not?"

Layla grinned and caught up. "Of course, I need a dress too. And my mother was invited as well, so I should probably find something nice."

The Eastern Duchess had received an invitation to Isabelle and Alaric’s wedding, which wasn’t a surprise.

The streets were bustling with people, as expected. Merchants called out to passing nobles, advertising their finest fabrics and accessories. Carriages rolled by, carrying ladies dressed in elegant gowns and gentlemen in expensive suits.

The boutique they entered was a well-known establishment, with walls lined with dresses of all colors and styles. It was the same place she met Isabelle and Victoria for the first time.

Layla immediately rushed to the racks, eagerly flipping through gowns, while Adeline took her time.

Just as she reached for a dress, a familiar voice made her freeze.

"Oh? What a coincidence, running into you here," Annora’s voice was sickeningly sweet.

Adeline turned her head slightly and saw Annora standing beside Benedict. He had taken her shopping.

Annora was dressed modestly, as always, but the way she held onto Benedict’s arm was anything but innocent. She acted close, tilting her head toward him and smiling as though they were the closest of lovers.

But even with the affectionate display, Adeline noticed the distance between them. Annora wasn’t touching him too much—just enough to make it look like they were close.

She was using him.

Adeline knew that.

And yet, seeing Benedict standing beside Annora, seemingly playing along, she thought it would make her angry but it simply made her annoyed.

Layla tensed beside her, her usual bright expression darkening. "Let’s go."

Adeline didn’t need to be told twice. She turned away from them, ignoring Annora’s satisfied smirk, and went deeper into the boutique.

Benedict glanced at them briefly but didn’t say anything. He didn’t stop Annora, nor did he say anything, he simply just stood there.

Fine, Adeline thought. She wouldn’t care anymore.

She focused on the dresses instead, trying on several before finding one that made her pause. A beautiful light blue gown.

She stepped in front of a large mirror, running her hands over the smooth fabric. The colour suited her, bringing out the warmth in her skin and the brightness of her eyes. She smiled a little, satisfied with her choice.

Just as she turned to show Layla, she felt something cold drip onto her shoulder.

She froze.

A deep red liquid spread across the delicate blue fabric.

Wine.

Her eyes snapped toward the source, her hands clenching at her sides.

Benedict.

He held an empty wine glass, his face as unreadable as ever.

"I’m sorry," he said, his voice too casual. "My hands felt weak after training with a sword."

Adeline’s blood boiled.

She clenched her fists, trying to suppress the anger rising inside her. He did this on purpose. She knew he did.

Before she could speak, Benedict turned toward the boutique owner and said, "You can bill me for the ruined dress."

Annora stifled a laugh beside him, covering her mouth as if trying to be polite.

Adeline wanted to scream.

She took a slow, deep breath, forcing herself to remain calm. She would not give them the reaction they wanted. She would not let them think they had won.

Instead, she straightened her shoulders, lifted her chin, and looked Benedict directly in the eyes.

Adeline didn’t hesitate. She reached forward and grabbed the pocket square from Benedict’s coat, using it to wipe off the red wine that stained her dress. The fabric absorbed the liquid quickly, but the damage had already been done.

With a sharp flick of her wrist, she tossed the soiled square back at Benedict’s face.

She hoped it hit his eye. She hoped it hurt.

Benedict barely reacted, his face unreadable, but Adeline didn’t care. Her patience had already run thin, and she wasn’t going to let this slide.

"I didn’t know the mighty Northern Duke was so weak that he couldn’t even hold a simple wine glass." Her voice was laced with mockery. She tilted her head, looking at Annora with false curiosity. "Is that why the Saintess is here? To heal his deficiencies?"

Annora stiffened, her grip on Benedict’s arm tightening. Her expression twitched, but she quickly masked it with a demure smile.

Benedict opened his mouth, but no words came out.

For the first time, he struggled to find something to say.

Adeline refused to look away. She met his gaze with unwavering defiance, watching him hesitate under the weight of her words.

Layla crossed her arms beside her, smirking. "You know, Adeline, maybe we should be kind. It must be exhausting to pretend to be strong when you’re so fragile."

Benedict’s jaw tensed, but he still said nothing.

Layla did not care for this man. He had always been Adeline’s friend in the academy, not hers. And how dare he treat her this way?! After all that she went through, he dare he abandon her and side with a stranger?!

Adeline turned away from him, her eyes landing on the boutique owner, a middle-aged woman who had been silently watching the exchange. The woman’s sharp eyes flicked between Adeline and Benedict as if already understanding what Adeline was about to say.

"Kick them out."

Annora gasped, stepping forward quickly. "That’s unnecessary. You don’t have to be so cruel." Her voice was soft, almost pleading as if she were the victim in all of this. "There’s no need for such hostility, Adeline."

Adeline turned her head slightly, looking at Annora with nothing but cold amusement.

"I can do whatever I want," she said simply. "I have the power to."

Her voice was steady, unwavering.

Unlike Annora... Annora, who had to be careful with every word she spoke, every step she took. Annora, who had to be the perfect puppet to her backers, whoever they were.

The words hit exactly where Adeline wanted them to.

Annora’s fingers twitched at her side, her breath hitching for just a moment.

But she didn’t speak.

She didn’t argue.

She couldn’t.

The boutique owner stepped forward, her decision already made. "I’ll have to ask you both to leave."

Benedict finally reacted, his gaze shifting to the owner. "Do you know who you’re speaking to?" His voice was calm, but there was an underlying tension.

The woman didn’t flinch.

"Yes," she said without hesitation. "And I know who my most valuable client is."

Her eyes flickered toward Adeline.

She had been designing dresses for Adeline ever since that fateful day when everything changed. Adeline wasn’t just a customer—she was the boutique’s greatest patron, her influence far more valuable than any title the Northern Duke held.

Offending Adeline meant losing business.

Offending Benedict meant nothing to her.

Benedict looked at Annora. Annora looked at the floor.

There was no winning here.

Silence stretched between them.

And then, without another word, Benedict turned on his heel and walked out.

Annora followed, her movements slower, almost hesitant.

But before she stepped through the door, she glanced back at Adeline one last time.

Adeline didn’t look away.

She smiled.

A small, victorious smile.

And Annora left.

As soon as Benedict and Annora were gone, Layla turned to Adeline, her arms crossed and a smirk playing on her lips.

"Aren’t you afraid of his retaliation?" she asked, but there was no concern in her voice. It wasn’t a warning—it was a declaration.

Adeline understood what she truly meant. Layla wasn’t worried about Benedict. She wasn’t asking out of fear for Adeline’s safety. She was telling her that she would always support her, no matter what.

After all, Layla was going to be the future Eastern Duchess. She didn’t give a damn about that man.

Adeline smiled, she wasn’t afraid in the slightest. Let Benedict try whatever he wanted—she would face it head-on. If the plot tried to force her into submission, she would fight against it.

She would be her own plot armour.

She would prevail.

With that thought, she turned back to the rows of dresses. Shopping had been a great way to lift her mood, and she wasn’t about to let anyone ruin it.

After browsing for a bit longer, her eyes landed on a beautiful burgundy dress. She reached out and ran her fingers over the soft fabric, already imagining how it would look on her.

She tried it on, and the moment she saw herself in the mirror, she knew it was the one.

It fit perfectly, hugging her body in all the right places. The deep, rich colour complemented her features, making her look effortlessly elegant.

She looked happy.

Truly happy.

Shopping really was a wonderful way to lift one’s mood.

She looked over at Layla who also seemed to found her dress. She wore a very beautiful light green gown. Alaric and Isabelle chose one person to be their best man and bridesmaid, Alaric chose Aaron, he was wearing a green suit too. Adeline was slowly understanding what was happening.