The Male Leads Are Trapped in My House-Chapter 172

"Kyah!"

At that moment, two women swept up by the wind screamed as they stumbled and eventually collapsed to the ground.

Harrison quickly ushered several people into the mansion to take shelter.

The funeral scene was beyond chaotic—it was utter mayhem. Even Kellyan, who was usually composed, couldn’t make sense of the situation or focus on Ethan’s funeral.

Amid the turmoil, Ethan lay quietly inside the coffin. He was utterly still, truly appearing as though he were dead.

Cherry, unfazed, continued reading the will.

"I think I finally meet the conditions you set for a partner, Cherry. They say that when someone dies, they become a star in the sky.

There are plenty of people by your side now who care about you, so I figured you’d be fine without me.

But don’t live too well without me—I’ll get jealous.

At the very least, pretend to be sad when you visit my grave. I’ll let myself be fooled."

Kellyan glanced at Cherry. Her eyes had suddenly turned red. She pressed her lips tightly together, glaring at Ethan’s coffin with an intensity that seemed ready to shatter.

Overcome by her emotions, she appeared unable to continue reading the will.

Seeing her reaction, Kellyan was now certain.

Ethan was really dead. The realization crashed over him like a tidal wave of despair.

“It seems the typhoon has slowed things down. I’ll read the final sentence then,” a low, commanding voice echoed from behind them.

The voice carried an overwhelming authority, a heavy bass that made their instincts tense up. Kellyan’s body stiffened reflexively. Slowly, he turned his head.

Standing before him was a man clad in the pristine white uniform of a crown prince. Behind the man, guards followed with precise, disciplined steps.

Kellyan’s face turned ghostly pale.

“No way.”

The man was unmistakably Theodore, the Crown Prince of Graydon.

The very same crown prince Kellyan had ridiculed as an incompetent ruler incapable of leaving Westmore.

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“Damn it, what the hell is going on here?”

Despite the howling wind, Theodore walked toward them with unyielding confidence, as if untouched by the storm. He stopped in front of Kellyan.

“P.S., I have a message for Sir Kellyan,” Theodore said. “Deliver this to my father in Westmore: it’s a great relief that the one thing he cannot control is me.”

Theodore stood with his hands clasped behind his back, smiling at Kellyan.

“That was the final sentence in Ethan Duncan Lancaster’s will.”

What?

Kellyan’s jaw dropped in shock.

At the same moment, a cloth was thrown over his head, blocking his vision.

Having spent days in captivity, barely eating, Kellyan’s strength and awareness were at their limits. The added exhaustion from standing in the typhoon left him disoriented and powerless.

Then a chilling thought crossed his mind. The empty coffin beside Ethan’s—whose was it meant for?

A creeping unease washed over him, cold sweat trailing down his spine.

“W-wait a minute!”

The guards holding his arms shoved him forward. He stumbled and fell.

Thud.

He landed hard on the ground, groaning in pain. Struggling to remove the cloth from his head, he looked up—only to have dirt dumped over his face.

“Pfft.”

Brushing the dirt away, he lifted his gaze. Above him stood Cherry Sinclair and her people, with Theodore and his royal guards at her side.

“How... how is the crown prince here?” Kellyan stammered.

“Before you worry about that, shouldn’t you be more concerned about your future?” Cherry replied coldly.

“Ethan is dead. And as for you, Kellyan? I don’t need you anymore. Did you really think I’d let a threat like you walk away so easily?”

Kellyan’s face drained of color.

“Oh, you look surprised. Let me introduce you,” Cherry continued. “This is Crown Prince Theodore of Graydon. And these are ‘real’ royal guards, unlike your little act. They came all the way from the capital.”

Kellyan felt his blood run cold. Was it true? Had the crown prince really crossed the monster-infested cities to reach this remote village?

As unbelievable as it seemed, the man’s face was unmistakable. It was Theodore himself.

“Who knows? If you speak, we might help you,” Cherry suggested.

Kellyan’s mind raced. If Theodore was capable of traveling safely all the way here, siding with him might be safer than staying aligned with Westmore’s leaders.

Kellyan thought quickly. Ethan was dead, and he would be next if he didn’t act fast. There was nothing left to hesitate about.

As if driving the point home, Theodore added, “I met one of your comrades—Tom, was it? Tom Andledon. He was pretending to be one of the Empire’s royal guards, so I relieved him of a few fingers. How many was it?”

“Five,” one of the guards answered.

Theodore raised an eyebrow. “Ah, I recall just one.”

“There were... incidents during the interrogation,” the guard clarified.

“Anyway, Kellyan, did you hear that? Tom is dead. Unlike Lady Sinclair, I don’t leave enemies alive.”

“I don’t intend to, either,” Cherry added. “The world’s changed. Let’s just bury him and be done with it.”

Hearing their exchange, Kellyan’s panic intensified. His head swam from exhaustion and fear. He needed to act before it was too late.

More dirt was dumped onto him. In desperation, he shouted, “Damn it! Fine! I’ll talk! There are things I haven’t told you—about Lancaster! I’ll confess everything!”

“How do we know it’s the truth? I don’t really care to hear it. Just bury him,” Cherry said curtly.

Before she could finish, Kellyan yelled again, “I know! Ethan has antibodies to the virus! Westmore is developing a cure, and his antibodies are essential for completing it!”

"Who was it that ordered Ethan to be taken?"

"The Duke of Lancaster," Kellyan replied without hesitation.

As soon as the words left his mouth, a sly smile spread across Cherry's lips.

"Finally, you’re talking."

With that, Kellyan felt a sharp pain at the back of his head and lost consciousness.

*****

Ethan, who had been lying perfectly still in the coffin, suddenly bolted upright and delivered a swift blow to the back of Kellyan’s head, knocking him out cold.

Kellyan’s limp body, tanned skin and short silver hair gleaming in the rain, slumped forward into the now-empty coffin.

Ethan stretched, cracking his joints and yawning as he stood in the downpour.

"Nice work," Aurora teased, watching the spectacle with amused eyes from beside Cherry.

"You’re really good at acting dead."

"Shut up," Ethan shot back gruffly, hopping out of the grave with ease.

Aurora hesitated for a moment before trailing off, "By the way... did you know? Father..."

"Of course I didn’t," Ethan interrupted, running a hand through his hair with visible irritation.

"For now, let’s wait until that bastard wakes up. We need to figure out what the hell is going on and what exactly my father is plotting."

Ethan walked directly toward Cherry.

"Miss Cherry. I don’t believe for a second that my father is making a cure," he said flatly.

"What?" Cherry blinked in surprise.

"So do whatever you want with me. Hand me over if you want, or keep me by your side. It’s your choice."

"What if your father really is working on a cure?"

"Didn’t Ludfisher also say he’s developing a cure? Or am I wrong?"

"That’s right," Cherry admitted.

"That sneaky bastard," Ethan muttered with a bitter smile. "As much as I hate his guts, I trust his skills."

Nox, who had been standing nearby, overheard Ethan’s words and shrugged nonchalantly.

"Then there’s no reason for me to go to my father under the pretense of the cure, is there? Or do you want me gone, Miss Cherry?"

"Of course not!" Cherry exclaimed without thinking, startled by his pointed questions.

"Then we’ve got our answer." Ethan grinned and ruffled her hair before casually walking away to talk with others nearby.

Cherry opened her mouth to say something but quickly closed it again, aware of all the eyes watching her.

It wasn’t just Kellyan that bothered her. She also had a lot to say about Ethan’s will. But this wasn’t the time or place.

If you can bring me the stars, I’ll accept you as my partner. That’s what she’d said jokingly, not for him to become a star. How could he take a passing joke so seriously?

If he ever tried to follow through with the contents of that will, she swore she wouldn’t let him get away with it.

His sincerity in that will unsettled her, stirring «N.o.v.e.l.i.g.h.t» emotions she didn’t want to face.

*****

Kellyan was now recovering in the salon where the royal guards were stationed.

The location was chosen specifically because it was the safest place where Kellyan couldn’t pull any tricks.

When the decision to interrogate him was made, the guards stood in formation inside the room, fully alert.

Present in the salon were Cherry, Harrison, Nox, and Theodore, who lounged casually on the sofa.

Harrison brought over a chair for Cherry, and she sat directly in front of Kellyan while Harrison and Nox stood behind her.

Cherry glanced back at them in mild embarrassment.

"Hey, with you two standing behind me like that, it’s like I’m some kind of mob boss," she muttered.

"You are a boss. The boss of Happy House," Nox joked, unbothered.

Harrison adjusted his glasses with a deadpan expression, remaining silent.

Their banter was interrupted by Kellyan’s weak voice.

"Please, Lady... spare me."

Cherry finally turned her attention to him. Kellyan looked utterly disheveled, his earlier smugness replaced by desperation. His eyes darted nervously toward Theodore, gauging his reaction.

Cherry gestured with a slight nod for him to continue.

"I heard that Sir Ethan has antibodies. He doesn’t get infected even when bitten by the virus monsters. That’s why his blood is needed," Kellyan confessed.

"That’s old news. Got anything new?" Cherry asked, unimpressed.

"The only other thing I know is that the head of the Westmore survival camp is the Duke of Lancaster. There’s also supposed to be a genius scientist there who can save the world. And... the Duke regularly communicates with Prince Lloyd in the capital."

Cherry mulled over Kellyan’s words.

A genius scientist who could save the world? For some reason, the name Ezra kept coming to mind.