Leave the Villainous Second Male Lead Alone - Chapter 1.14

In my eagerness to make a good impression for Callisto, I must have made a mistake. As the son of a duke, Lawrence outranked me, and etiquette dictated that I should have introduced myself first. Instead, I had introduced Callisto right away.

I couldn’t afford to offend Lawrence, the main love interest. The sudden fear of raising a death flag made me anxious. “I’m terribly sorry, young master. I didn’t mean to…”

“Oh, no, that’s not what I meant,” Lawrence interrupted, waving his hands apologetically. Relieved, I looked at him, and he continued with a slightly sheepish smile. “Please, just call me Lawrence.

And I’d prefer if you spoke casually.

I only approached you because I wanted to be friends.” “Friends? With me?” Not Callisto? I gaped at him in surprise. Lawrence nodded enthusiastically, his cheerful expression leaving me utterly bewildered.

Why was Lawrence interested in me instead of Callisto? This wasn’t in the original story. ‘No, I’m sure of it. This definitely didn’t happen in the original.’

By this point in the original story, Etienne would have already left the scene. Later, during joint lessons with children from other noble families, she would reunite with Lawrence, but even then, he showed no interest in her.

So why was he asking about me now, with Callisto standing right beside me? Bewildered, I gave a hesitant nod. “Yes, Young Master… No, I mean, Lawrence.” “Yes, Etienne Winyates, right?”

His casual tone surprised me. In the original story, Lawrence always addressed Etienne formally. On the other hand, he was far more relaxed with Callisto, which only fueled Etienne’s feelings of inferiority toward him. Regardless, I couldn’t ignore his question. Just as I was about to introduce myself, Callisto responded before I could. “I told you, don’t take an interest in Etienne!” “Callisto! Why are you being so rude?” Startled, I quickly tried to stop him. Regardless of the original story, Lawrence was the heir to a duke’s household. Even though Callisto was technically a prince, for now, he was merely a ward of the Earl of Winyates. He had no right to behave so brazenly. I had no idea why he was acting like this, but a cold sweat ran down my back as I imagined the story devolving into chaos—not a tragic love story where the main character suffers at the hands of their lover, but one where the main character torments the love interest. And I would be caught in the middle, suffering forever.

“Apologize to the young master right now, Callisto,” I urged him. But Callisto only scrunched up his small face in defiance, making it clear he didn’t want to.

His expression was that of a sulky, troublesome seven-year-old. I felt a surge of irritation and almost raised my voice. Just then, Lawrence stepped in, gently intervening. “It’s all right. Your little brother is just shy, isn’t he?”

“I don’t know what’s gotten into him today. I’m sorry, he’s not usually like this.” Except he was usually like this. At least, Callisto only acted sharp-tongued toward me. With the Earl and Elsie, he was always sweet and polite. But for some reason, he was now directing that sharpness toward Lawrence. Fortunately, Lawrence didn’t seem bothered. At around nine years old, he was still young himself, yet his maturity and kindness stood out. It was a reminder of why he was often described as a kind uke in the original story. Just as I was silently marveling at his demeanor, Callisto interrupted with a sullen voice. “I’m not his brother! Well, I am, but not his real brother.

We’re practically strangers!”

“…”

Strangers? While we had decided to explain Callisto as a half-brother, it still stung to hear him draw such a clear line between us. I had started to see him as my real little brother, but clearly, he didn’t feel the same.

I glanced at him, feeling a pang of disappointment. Lawrence, however, maintained his kind smile as he looked down at Callisto. Lawrence was much taller than the younger boy, which brought to mind the “younger seme” tag attached to Callisto in the original story.

True to his kind uke character, Lawrence attempted to soothe Callisto. “I see. Your name is Callisto, right? Shouldn’t you be heading to bed by now?

Little ones shouldn’t stay up too late, or you’ll have nightmares about ghosts and monsters. Interrupting your older brothers’ conversation isn’t something a good boy would do, is it?”

Was this really soothing?

“What?

Why are you calling me a kid? How old are you, anyway?” “I’m nine. And you? You’re way younger than me, aren’t you? Little kids shouldn’t butt in when adults are talking.”

“…”

How much younger is “way younger”?

From my perspective, seven and nine were practically the same. But apparently, for kids, a two-year difference was monumental. Callisto bristled with frustration but couldn’t come up with a retort and clamped his mouth shut.

Lawrence chuckled softly and straightened his back. Then, with his ever-kind smile, he turned to me. A chill ran down my spine. Something felt off. That feeling hit its peak when Lawrence extended his hand toward me. “So, Etienne, why don’t we leave the little one in his room and go for a walk in the garden?” “Uh…?” Wait, not Callisto? Me?

Support