The Tragic Male Lead Chose the Wrong Partner

* * *

Cynthia smiled with her eyes as she looked at the flustered Helene.
“Helene. Since such an unfortunate incident has occurred, no matter what the Grand Madam requested, I don’t think we can take care of them any longer.”
“Yes, after causing this much trouble, there’s no way I can help them anymore. Not only did they harm you, they’ve disgraced the Grand Madam as well.”

Helene tried to slip out by cutting ties and pretending ignorance, but Cynthia didn’t let her off so easily.
“But the Grand Madam’s letter said that you would take responsibility for them, didn’t it?”
Cynthia had found a brilliant clue inside the Grand Madam’s letter, which Madam Eleonora had been holding.

[The ducal house has no obligation to support the Visente family, but under the care of the Duchess, who wishes to aid you in every possible way, assistance may be requested.
However, the final decision will rest with Brigadier Visente and his wife, Princess Cynthia.]
She wasn’t the head of a powerful noble family for nothing.

With such tremendous influence, she was in a position where every word and action had to be weighed with caution.
In one letter, the Grand Madam had drawn a clear line—giving Cynthia the power to choose, while shifting any consequences onto Helene.
Helene had tried to use the Grand Madam’s authority, only to be hoisted by her own petard.

As cold sweat formed on Helene’s brow, Cynthia added leisurely,
“This incident is entirely your responsibility, isn’t it? Even what happens three days from now.”
How ridiculous.

Helene scoffed, feigning composure.
She was lucky to have gotten away with it this time—but in the end, Cynthia was still a murderer.
Helene ignored the pitiful Madam Eleonora clinging to her and quickly left, using the excuse of an important appointment.

‘No matter what happens, I’ll come out of it just fine.’
Just like how she had covered up the forged-note incident using her power, there was no way the organization would come after her with a bill, since she was a VIP.
* * *
‘I didn’t want him to face the Visente family like this.’

Cynthia sighed as she looked at Masera, whose face was devoid of expression.
“I’m sorry! We’re truly remorseful! Can’t you give us one more chance? We’ll be good parents this time! You used to be so happy when you got a family!”
Even as she was dragged away by soldiers, Madam Eleonora spouted disgusting lies until the very end.

“Why’s he still hung up on that? I just disciplined him a bit for having manners like a street rat.”
In contrast, Count Visente, who never lied but also never felt guilt, simply clicked his tongue.

After that parasitic family was cleared from sight, Cynthia looked at the blood dripping from Masera’s tightly clenched hand. The handkerchief he held was completely soaked.

“Not everyone with wounds turns into a monster.”
How hard must he have tried to avoid becoming one.
Cynthia recalled what butler Milchenko had once said and didn’t know what to say.

“…I’m sorry.”
In the end, Masera left only those few calm words of apology before walking away.
“Lady Cynthia, are you all right?”

Dalia, pale with worry, checked the area where the glass shard had scraped her. Thankfully, it was only a light scratch.
Captain Carlton, who had confirmed Cynthia’s condition, picked up the emergency kit and followed after Masera.
* * *

Masera, dragged to the infirmary by Captain Carlton, was staring out the window.
“Doesn’t it hurt? I didn’t use any anesthetic. You’re a tough kid.”
Captain Carlton joked as he stitched up the torn wound, but Masera’s expression remained dry and expressionless.

‘So she found out after all.’
Judging by the fact that Cynthia had approved of imprisoning the Visente family, she must have learned at least part of what they’d done.
He wasn’t someone who cared much about what others thought—but the past he had suffered through in weakness, he didn’t want anyone to see.

Yet the past he thought he had severed completely had once again come back to shackle him—and this time, it had reached even Cynthia.
“……”
Would killing them finally sever him from the past?

Maybe he should’ve just killed them back then.
He had kept them alive to show them a living hell—was that too lenient?
‘No, the truth is, I was trying to imitate a human being.’

Telling himself he was different from them.
“See? We’re broken people.”
Suddenly, the words of the former leader of the Liberty Society, who had once tried to kill Cynthia, came to mind.

Those wounded in childhood became monsters who destroyed others.
Most likely, Cynthia wouldn’t treat him the same way anymore. Whether that change came from pity or prejudice, he hated it.
Because it would mean she was afraid of when he might turn into something else.

* * *

Masera consciously avoided Cynthia.
And Cynthia, who in the past would’ve trailed after him and ★ 𝐍𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 ★ pestered him, was now quiet.

He couldn’t tell whether it was consideration—or discomfort.
Masera headed to the infirmary again to have his wound disinfected.
While wrapping the new bandage after disinfection, Captain Carlton spoke.

“It’ll leave a scar, but it won’t hinder movement. Your hand will work as before.”
“……”
As a form of praise, Captain Carlton offered a strawberry candy.

“Think of it as the scar of an adult who protected someone important.”
Watching his friend walk out of the infirmary, Masera popped the candy into his mouth.
Just then, the sound of cheerful voices drifted in through the open window.

“Noona, it was really fun! I wish you’d come with me.”
“Did you have a good time at the fair?”
Eugene, holding a toy battleship in his hand, was running toward Cynthia. It seemed she had sent him on a brief trip elsewhere because of the Visente couple.

Since the infirmary was on the first floor, their conversation could be heard clearly.
“When’s Uncle coming? Don’t you miss him, Noona? They say people in love get sad if they don’t see each other for even one day.”
Fearing her answer, Masera reflexively covered his ears—then slowly lowered his hands.

“Of course I missed him. I was dying of boredom.”
Upon hearing Cynthia’s reply, Masera turned his head toward the window again.
He saw Cynthia grunting as she tried to lift Eugene into her arms.

“Ugh, you’ve grown again? I don’t think I can carry you anymore.”
“That’s why you shouldn’t treat me like a baby! I’m all grown up!”
“Who was the one who came looking for me at night because he was scared to sleep alone, huh?”

He watched Cynthia kiss Eugene repeatedly on the cheek, and Eugene, though embarrassed, had a happy face as he tried to avoid her.
Suddenly, memories buried alongside his painful childhood rose again.
“Masera, look over there. That’s the warship Daddy rides.”

It was a memory of seeing the giant battleship floating on the sea while holding his mother and father’s hands. Even the fragrant, warm spring breeze of that day felt vivid again.
Like the petals fluttering in that memory, a single blossom drifted in and landed on the back of his hand.
“Falling petals are as pretty as snow, aren’t they?”

Spring has come. He thought he could hear his mother’s gentle voice.
“Ah.”
Masera stared blankly at the petal.

Because he had rediscovered a long-forgotten, treasured memory of the heart.
To him, Cynthia was the one who brought back those precious memories.