The Male Lead isn't Following the Script!-Chapter 313: Will Not Get Hurt Again

Benedict finally started to suspect Cassian.

It wasn’t a sudden flash of insight—it was more like an itch in the back of his mind that kept getting worse the more he thought about it. He’d been telling himself over and over, We’re comrades. We’ve fought together. He’s on my side. But no matter how many times he repeated it, the words didn’t feel steady anymore.

The wedding... Cassian leaving Annora at the altar... the timing. It didn’t sit right.

Benedict knew Cassian was calculating—he’d always been—but this felt different. This felt personal.

He replayed everything in his head. The way Cassian hadn’t even looked surprised to see him at the palace earlier. The way he dismissed his claims of being under control without a second thought. The way he had smiled—not warmly, but like someone who already knew every move on the board.

If Cassian had woken up from the forbidden magic’s influence before the wedding... if he had deliberately left Annora standing there, knowing Benedict would be the one to take his place...

Benedict’s hands clenched into fists.

That would mean Cassian had set him up.

Benedict needed to meet Adeline.

He—he had to clear things up with her. He had to apologise, explain himself, tell her everything that had happened. If he didn’t, the wedge between them would stay forever, and the thought of her looking at him with nothing but coldness for the rest of his life made his chest tighten.

Forget the carriage—there wasn’t enough time. He unhooked the horse from it, mounted up, and kicked it into a gallop, wind tearing at his hair as he rode hard toward the Western territories.

By the time he reached the Kendrick estate, Adeline and Isabelle were deep in discussion about their next move against the Holy Temple. They were standing in Adeline’s study, leaning over the desk, when a breathless servant burst in.

"My—My lady," the maid stammered, "the Northern Duke is... Waiting in the foyer."

Adeline froze mid-sentence, blinking in surprise. The pen in her hand stilled against the parchment.

She frowned. What does he want? Her mind flashed through the possibilities—none of them good. Why would Benedict come here now, of all times? After everything?

Isabelle raised a brow, but Adeline was already standing, skirts rustling as she moved toward the door. Isabelle followed her downstairs but, when they reached the foyer and she saw Benedict standing there, tense and grim, Isabelle gave Adeline a quick glance before slipping away to give them privacy.

Benedict didn’t waste time. "Adeline," he said, voice low and urgent. "I was being controlled. My mind—it wasn’t mine. But now I’m free from their influence."

Adeline’s face remained carefully neutral, but her eyes narrowed just slightly.

"I came to tell you because... I want to make things right." His voice cracked at the edges. "I know I don’t deserve your trust, and I don’t expect you to believe me, but I swear—I’m telling the truth."

Adeline crossed her arms, her expression cool. Inside, her heart was pounding, but she wasn’t about to let him see that.

"You woke up... After the wedding was over?" she asked evenly.

Benedict hesitated—just a fraction of a second, but she caught it. Then he nodded. "Yes. I... suddenly woke up."

Her lips pressed into a thin line. The timing was too perfect, too convenient.

In her mind, the thought came unbidden: I’ve been hurt before. I can’t get hurt again.

Benedict shifted under her steady gaze. "Adeline, you have to understand—none of it was me. The things I said, the way I acted toward you... Toward Annora... It wasn’t me."

Her eyes didn’t soften. "And yet, it happened. Whether it was you or not, those words were spoken. Those choices were made." She knew that it was because he was under control... But- She knew it was unfair to blame him. But here he was, Annora’s puppet, back at it again.

He stepped forward, almost desperate. "If I could take it all back, I would."

"You can’t," she replied, her tone sharp enough to cut through the air between them. "What’s done is done. You aligned yourself with her. And now you say the fog has been lifted, but I do not trust you. The timing seems... Too convenient." She just could not take another chance.

His hands curled into fists at his sides. "It’s not convenient, it’s the truth! They had me under control from the start. I woke up and—"

"—And you woke up right after the wedding? Can’t you see how it looks?" She cut in, her voice laced with disbelief. Maybe, maybe he was telling the truth. But she had no energy. She would not ally with him, but she will not push him away. She decided to stay neutral and keep him at a distance.

"That’s not fair," he said, frustration flaring in his eyes.

"Fair?" She laughed bitterly. "Do you know what wasn’t fair? Watching someone I thought I could trust throw me aside like I meant nothing. And now you want me to just accept that when you finally got what you wanted, the spell was lifted?"

He clenched his jaw, searching for something—anything—that would sway her. "I’m not asking for forgiveness. I just... I need you to know I’m on your side now. I want to help you."

Adeline shook her head slowly. "I do not need your help. Please just stop this. If you truly are changed, then you will not rush me, you will give me time. I can’t—" she took a breath, steadying herself, "—I won’t put myself in a position to be hurt by you again."

"Adeline—"

"Leave, Benedict." Her voice was final, cold.

He froze, his mouth opening to argue, but the look in her eyes told him there was no point. She meant it.

After a moment, he turned and walked out, the sound of the door closing behind him echoing in the quiet foyer.

"Is this why you proposed that plan?" Isabelle’s voice cut the silence.