The Male Lead isn't Following the Script!-Chapter 294: Disappointment

The atmosphere in the dimly lit chamber was tense. The forbidden magic practitioners knelt before their master, heads bowed low as they awaited his judgment.

The losses had been mounting—too many men, too much influence slipping through their fingers. Their reach, once shadowing the entire empire, was now dwindling, retreating like a tide against an unyielding shore.

The master clenched his fists, nails biting into his palms. His frustration was palpable, nearly suffocating the air in the room. The god he served had refused to answer his calls. Silence stretched between them, an unbearable void that weighed heavy on his shoulders.

"It is because of her," he spat, his voice barely above a growl. "Adeline."

The mere mention of her name ignited his fury. Her existence alone had unraveled the fate they had so carefully woven. She had altered the story in ways they hadn’t accounted for, and now, every carefully laid plan was falling apart.

He was ordered to make Cassian act like he had in Annora’s past life... Who knew that he did not care about her at all?! It was all just an act! A selfish act, even now... He is only marrying her for influence.

But the worst part?

They could not touch her.

She was vital to the story. Any direct confrontation would be suicide.

"Small steps," one of his followers dared to say, voice hesitant. "Master, we—"

"Silence!" 𝕗𝕣𝐞𝐞𝘄𝐞𝚋𝚗𝗼𝘃𝗲𝗹.𝚌𝕠𝚖

The master’s voice boomed through the chamber, and the follower immediately shut his mouth, trembling.

Small steps? They had no more time for small steps.

The god had grown dissatisfied.

If he did not act soon, he feared what fate awaited him.

---

Adeline exhaled slowly, setting down her quill.

She had long since given up on Edward.

At first, she had held onto the sliver of hope that he would be useful. That, despite everything, he would honour their deal. But time and time again, he proved to be a danger more than an ally, even with their deal.

She would have to honour the deal as long as she received his help in defeating the people in the shadows. But if she did it alone, she would not have to. That was why she was going back to her old plan. Doing it herself.

At least, she was not fully alone.

She had her penpal. Mr. O.

At first, she had been careful—withholding, guarded. But as the days passed, as her frustration mounted and the weight of everything pressed down on her, she let her walls crumble.

She poured her thoughts into her letters, laying her heart bare to the anonymous figure.

And strangely, it was... Relieving.

He listened.

He never judged.

He knew who she was, yet she still did not know his true identity. But at this point?

She didn’t even care.

The empire was alight with excitement.

Nobles and commoners alike had gathered, eager to witness the union of Cassian and Annora.

It was a grand affair—one of the most anticipated events in recent history. Representatives from the Holy Temple had arrived in droves, their presence a silent reminder of the church’s influence.

Among them was Edward.

He moved through the halls with purpose, his white and gold robes immaculate, his expression unreadable.

But beneath his composed facade, schemes swirled in his mind.

He had struck a deal with Annora.

A private arrangement that ensured that he would be the victor.

And as the ceremony loomed closer, as the final pieces fell into place, he allowed himself the faintest of smiles.

The time would come when everything would unravel.

And when it did...

He would stand above them all.

Benedict,

Duke of the North, sat in his private carriage, fingers drumming idly against the armrest. His amber eyes reflected the fire of the setting sun, but his mood was anything but warm.

The wedding was tomorrow.

Cassian and Annora.

He scoffed at the thought.

Cassian, the First Prince, the man he hated with every cell of his body. A useless man molded by a tyrant mother. And Annora? She was a traitor to him, choosing Cassian despite everything.

Benedict simply told himself that to end his frustration, but even after saying that he could not bring himself to really hate her.

Either way, Benedict was not attending to celebrate.

He would not allow this to be a peaceful event.

The empire would be watching. Nobles, foreign dignitaries, the Holy Temple’s representatives—all eyes would be on Cassian.

And he would humiliate him.

At the height of the wedding, he and his allies would declare their support for the Third Prince.

The Third Prince was their answer.

And Benedict would ensure that Cassian fell from grace.

A knock on the carriage door drew his attention. One of his attendants stepped inside, holding a sealed letter.

"It’s from Lady Kendrick, Your Grace."

Benedict took the letter, already knowing its sender. Adeline.

His lips curled slightly in amusement. What could she possibly want now?

Breaking the wax seal, he unfolded the parchment and read.

There was a time when I thought you could still be reasoned with. That beneath all the anger and blind love you would see things rationally.

But I was wrong.

This is my final letter to you. A final appeal to your logic.

Cassian is not the true enemy. Whatever you believe about him, whatever resentment you hold, you are fighting against ghosts of the past, not the reality before you.

Benedict’s grip on the letter tightened.

She had given up on him.

He felt nothing.

Let her give up.

Let her think what she wanted.

He would still do what needed to be done.

As he set the letter aside, his gaze darkened, he would prevail.

She had nothing more to write.

The letter was sent.

Her final attempt at reaching Benedict had failed.

And to her surprise?

It didn’t even hurt anymore.

She had tried. She had done everything she could.

But Benedict had made his choice.

What truly pained her was not Benedict.

It was Cassian.

Where she could almost reach him.

But despite her efforts...

He did not awaken.