Leave the Villainous Second Male Lead Alone - Chapter 7.6

There was no one left waiting for him anymore. Etienne wasn’t going to wake up. Just like in his dream, where “the one Callisto loved” succumbed to the same illness and closed their eyes forever.

Because Callisto had loved him.

“Hey.”

A familiar hand landed on the back of his head with a light thwack.

It didn’t hurt, but the smell clinging to the hand—a lingering reminder of vomit—made Callisto grimace instinctively. Apparently, the pampered heir of the Armagnac Duchy had stopped retching just long enough to approach him. Callisto couldn’t fathom why Lawrence had insisted on tagging along only to become an irritant.

“If you die out here and don’t make it back…”

Lawrence trailed off, then suddenly added something absurd. Callisto frowned deeply. What the hell is this guy talking about now?

“I’ll go back alone and propose to Etienne instead. You okay with that?”

“What?”

“I mean, you look like you’re about ready to jump into the ocean if you can’t make it back in three months. That’ll leave Etienne free, won’t it?”

“Ha…”

Callisto didn’t even have the energy to get angry. He let out a long sigh instead. Lately, Lawrence hadn’t given him a single moment to get lost in his thoughts. His philosophy was simple.

“Stop overthinking. Since when were you so serious about life? Just stick to what you know.”

Hearing Lawrence repeat his usual drivel like a parrot, Callisto could only respond with a bemused laugh.

Oddly enough, Lawrence’s relentless antics were somewhat effective. Raising his voice in exasperation while arguing with Lawrence almost made Callisto feel as if he’d gone back to their younger days, quarreling over trivial things.

Back then, after wandering the streets alone for so long, he’d felt the warmth of another person for the first time. During those days, he wasn’t afraid of the dark. Even with his eyes closed, the comforting embrace of someone’s warmth always kept his world bright.

Two months later, the ship reached the Northern Continent. Finding the field of Echinacea in full bloom wasn’t difficult. The crimson flowers swayed like waves under the eerie breeze. Standing in the golden afternoon light, Callisto silently gazed at the endless expanse of scarlet stretching far beyond the horizon.

“Be careful not to damage the roots while transplanting them. Yes, we’ll take them in pots. As many as we can load onto the ship. Actually, why not just buy the whole field—”

Lawrence’s voice, negotiating with the landowner, drifted faintly to Callisto’s ears. But his thoughts wandered far from the sea of red flowers before him. Woodson had given him three months. However, even under the best conditions, the fleet couldn’t return to the Empire in less than four months. The chances of Etienne surviving that long were slim.

“The grower says transplanting all these flowers into pots will take some time. Rushing could damage them, so we’ll work until tomorrow. How does that sound, Callisto?”

Having concluded the negotiations, Lawrence hurried over to Callisto, sensing something off about him. He’d been silent since their arrival, and Lawrence, growing uneasy, pressed him for an answer.

“We’ll set sail the day after tomorrow. If we catch good winds, we can make it back in two months. Etienne… he’ll be okay. Right?”

Hope rested on the 50% chance that Etienne would hold on. But Callisto couldn’t shake the other 50%—the possibility that he wouldn’t. What if, upon their return to the Imperial capital, they were greeted by mourning banners draping the Winyeitz estate?

The unbearable thought surged through Callisto’s mind, and he closed his eyes tightly. The relentless headache that had plagued him throughout their two-month journey returned with a vengeance. He had spent those months trying not to think, as Lawrence had suggested, but now the time for avoidance was over. A decision had to be made.

“Load only half of the Echinacea onto the Etienne. The other half…”

But lingering doubt held him back. Was this the right course of action?

Perhaps, as Lawrence had said, Etienne would still be there after four months.

“Why only half? We should take all of it. Callisto? Why aren’t you answering?”

Callisto slowly turned to face Lawrence. His light brown eyes quivered faintly, and Callisto couldn’t help but think that Lawrence, sharp as ever, might have guessed his intentions from the start. The realization brought a strange sense of calm, even allowing a faint smile to curl his lips.

“I secured a small clipper yesterday. It’ll dock alongside the Etienne tomorrow. The other half of the flowers will go on that.”

“What do you need a clipper for?”

“You’ll take the Etienne back to the Empire. The first mate will handle navigation, so don’t worry. The Echinacea is plentiful—half should suffice.”

Lawrence’s face gradually turned pale. Quick-witted as always, his old friend and rival hesitated for a long moment before murmuring softly.

“Clippers are fast, but they’re too small. I’ve heard crossing the North Sea in one is almost impossible.”

“It’s all about how you handle it. I can manage.”

“Why go separately? The time difference won’t be much. Even if you manage to get ahead…”

And what if something goes wrong?

Lawrence couldn’t bring himself to voice the last part, but his expression said it all. Callisto brushed his hair back and offered a faint, lopsided grin.

“In that case, you can propose to Etienne. By then, he’ll be free, won’t he?”

“What the hell are you saying?!”

“You said it first.”

“That was… I didn’t mean it like that…”

“Then make sure you save Etienne.”

Lawrence fell silent. Unable to meet the gaze of the man who stood before him, Callisto lowered his eyes as well. Even imagining Etienne with someone else left him feeling hollow. Yet he forced himself to speak the words that needed to be said.

“Save him and stay by his side. If I don’t make it back.”

Callisto knew he was wounding himself with his own words, but this was the only way.

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