The Male Lead isn't Following the Script!
Chapter 262: Mysterious

Chapter 262: Mysterious

She saw it—the flicker of disappointment, frustration, perhaps even a flash of jealousy.

Oh, he hated that. Of course, he did. He had been watching her, hadn’t he? Noticing how she spent more time with Cassian, how she drifted just far enough away from him that he had to chase her. She lowered her lashes, suppressing a knowing smirk. She just had to sit back and watch the show.

Benedict hated the word friend. It felt like a rejection, a dismissal—an insult that was masked in kindness. His entire life, people had treated him like a tool, a pawn in the great political game of the Empire.

His title, his influence, his strength—these were all things people wanted. And yet, when it came to real emotions, to true companionship, he was always pushed aside.

He had thought Annora was different. But now, she had said it. "You are such a good friend."

Benedict felt something sharp and bitter twist in his chest. Before he could stop himself, he reached out and grabbed her hand. His grip was firm but not painful, but the sudden contact made Annora stiffen.

She took a step back, her body tensing as though she wanted to pull away immediately. Benedict saw the flicker of hesitation in her eyes. The way she froze, just for a few moments before regaining control of her expression.

He didn’t understand why, but something about that reaction unsettled him. "Annora," he said, his voice quieter now. "Why do you keep avoiding me?"

Annora lowered her gaze, acting as though she was flustered. Inside, however, she was furious.

But she had to continue the act. Annora forced a shaky breath and looked up at him with wide, sorrowful eyes. "Benedict..." She whispered.

"We can’t keep doing this. I shouldn’t even be meeting you."

Benedict’s brows furrowed. "Why not?"

She hesitated, as though trying to find the right words.

Then, she sighed, shaking her head. "If someone sees us like this... It will cause problems," she said softly. "For both of us."

Benedict didn’t care about that. But he could see the distress on her face—the way she acted like she was trapped in something she couldn’t escape from.

A part of him wanted to pull her closer. To make her stay.

But another part of him... Another part of him knew that he wasn’t the one she was thinking about. And so, before he could stop himself, he asked: "Are you going to marry the Crown Prince?"

Annora almost scoffed. The Crown Prince? How ridiculous. The real Crown Prince was Prince Marcus. Cassian had never been given back his title.

In the past, he might have been the proud Crown Prince but not anymore. But none of that mattered. The details weren’t important—what mattered was the role she had to play.

Annora let her expression shift into one of sadness and resignation. She let her gaze drop as if she couldn’t bear to look at him.

"Benedict..." she murmured, shaking her head. "I can’t talk about that." She hesitated, then let out a heavy sigh."

Besides," she continued, her voice softer now, "it’s a great alliance. The Empire and the Holy Temple..." She trailed off, as though forcing herself to accept the reality of it.

Then, with a small, bittersweet smile, she whispered, "The selfish desires of someone like me don’t matter."

The words struck deep. Benedict’s grip loosened. She freed herself. And then—she ran.

Benedict stood frozen, watching as her figure disappeared down the garden path, her white dress billowing in the night breeze. His hands slowly curled into fists.

Cassian.

It was always Cassian.

No matter what he did, he was always one step behind.

Annora might have denied it, but Benedict wasn’t blind. He wasn’t a fool.

She spent more time with Cassian. She spoke to him in ways she never spoke to Benedict. And deep inside, he knew. She might not love him yet, but she would—eventually.

Because everyone did.

Benedict’s breathing was sharp and uneven. His thoughts raced, spiralling into something darker, something dangerous.

His mother.

It was because of Cassian he... He missed her final moments.

Cassian had taken so much from him already. He refused to lose again. He clenched his fists tighter, his nails digging into his palms. He had no choice. If he wanted to win, if he wanted to take control of his own fate—Then he had to act.

And so, as his mind twisted with rage and frustration, the thought came to him. "I have to join hands with the Second Prince."

...

Silence.

Benedict’s breath hitched. Wait. Something was wrong.

A second prince? There was no second prince. The realisation sent a chill through his veins. His mind felt foggy like something was pressing down on him, forcing his thoughts in a certain direction.

The confusion only lasted for a moment. Then, his expression darkened again. "I have to join hands with the third prince." His voice was eerily calm.

There was no hesitation anymore. Because this was fate. This was the path he had to take. Benedict’s eyes glowed faintly in the dim light of the garden.

The influence of forbidden magic had already wrapped itself around him—too deeply for him to escape.

Benedict inhaled sharply, his body tense as the whispers of unseen forces slithered through his thoughts, feeding him ideas that felt both foreign and familiar.

----------------------------------------------------

"Hmm?" Adeline realised that there was a package on her bed. It was neatly wrapped. It looked like it was a gift.

Who put it there though? There was no note. It was her brother’s wedding, if anything she should be the one giving the gift not receiving one.

Adeline did not feel suspicious. Her mansion was guarded, who would dare to break into the Western Marquess’ residence?

When she opened the gift she realised that it was the dress she tried on earlier... There were no stains on it. It looked absolutely clean.

"What the hell?"

She picked the dress up and beneath all the fabric was a note, "It was a shame, the colour looked beautiful on you. - O."

There was no mention of the identity of the sender. The only people who witnessed that were... Well, Layla, her, Benedict and Annora... Who was this "O"?