Leave the Villainous Second Male Lead Alone - Chapter 8.12
I denied it immediately, though I could guess what he was thinking. In the original story, The Prince’s Blade, Callisto had indeed resembled the emperor in many ways—unable to love anyone fully, not even his cherished consort’s son, and showing only distorted affection.
But that wasn’t this Callisto. This Callisto loved me, not the fictional Lawrence.
I leaned in, holding his gaze, and smiled softly.
“Why think about what could’ve been? You’re here with me now.”
“Because… I don’t feel anything. Not a single tear.”
His voice was heavy with self-doubt.
“If I’m so different from the emperor, shouldn’t I feel some sadness at his death? Am I just pretending to be someone else? Am I still the same person I was in my dreams?”
“You’re overthinking this, Calli,” I said gently.
“Hmm?”
I smiled again, brushing a light kiss over his lips. Callisto blinked, startled.
“Your father isn’t the emperor, Calli. It’s the Count of Wynyeates.”
Family isn’t determined by blood alone. If Callisto didn’t feel anything for the emperor, that was perfectly fine.
“You don’t owe the emperor anything. No guilt, no tears.”
“Hah… I suppose you’re right.”
Finally, the tension in Callisto’s face eased. Smiling faintly, I pressed more kisses to his lips, jaw, and neck.
“So let’s just do what you can for now.”
“Hmm… That could be a problem.”
“What do you mean?”
Callisto suddenly frowned.
“Well, the Count might be my father, but I can’t be your real brother.”
“Then I’ll just stop being the Count’s son.”
I climbed onto Callisto’s lap, and his laughter rumbled warmly as he wrapped his arms tightly around me.
A few days later, Callisto’s entire army, excluding the injured, gathered at the outskirts of Blast Harbor.
Wearing his immaculate red naval uniform, Callisto sat astride a black stallion, surveying his troops.
The soldiers’ morale was sky-high after their resounding victory over the First Prince’s forces. Callisto nodded in satisfaction before leading the long column toward the capital.
His black cape billowed in the wind as he rode, one hand on the reins and the other resting on the hilt of his sword. Dust rose in the wake of the army’s march.
From Blast Harbor to the capital was a four-day journey. Though they could have arrived in three with a quicker pace, Callisto didn’t push his men, understanding their exhaustion from the recent battle.
“Really?”
It wasn’t the kind of remark one would expect from the protagonist of a novel chronicling his ascent to the throne. Still, I simply stroked the back of Callisto’s head, quietly waiting for him to continue.
“If the empress is so desperate to take over the empire, maybe letting her have what she wants isn’t such a bad idea.”
“….”
The thought struck me as extreme, but I didn’t respond, offering only a small smile.
“When I was young, I lived for the sole purpose of avenging my mother and my nursemaid, but now… it all feels meaningless. Besides, with Roen dead, I suppose you could say we’ve settled the score.”
“Mm, I suppose so.”
“But Jeanne won’t leave me alone. Just my existence is a threat to her. Naturally, she won’t spare you or Father either… It feels like living quietly and happily is the hardest thing in the world.”
I found myself surprised. In the original story, Callisto had been a figure of vengeance and ambition, yet here he was, professing that peace and happiness were paramount. Perhaps the looming siege was weighing heavily on his mind.
“After this, I want this to be the last war. I’ll do whatever I can to make that happen. So, brother…”
Peace and happiness always come with a price.
“Will you help me?”
“Help you?”
I wanted to help, of course, but I couldn’t see how. I was still recovering and couldn’t even ride a horse, let alone contribute meaningfully to the war. Taking the triple-layered walls of the capital would be no small feat, though I doubted Callisto would ask me to scale them.
Still, I couldn’t refuse him. Smiling, I nodded without hesitation.
“Of course. You can count on me.”
But how exactly would I help? As I pondered, Callisto leaned in close, his breath warm and sweetly scented as he murmured in my ear.
“The copper cannons Brine developed… Give them all to me, okay?”
He didn’t need to whisper like a lover pleading on a pillow; I’d already planned to deploy the cannons in the siege. But Callisto seemed to have a knack for unnecessary theatrics. Still, his antics made me smile, and I found myself enjoying his company too much to send him away that night.
Brine had been working on the copper cannons for some time, though Callisto had primarily used improved iron cannons during the naval battles. Producing hundreds of copper cannons for the fleet had been impractical due to the immense cost, even though we had seized copper mines from Harrington. Mining was still labor-intensive and expensive due to our limited technology.
Once the war ends, we need to develop steam engines.
This reminder rekindled my long-standing interest in advancing our technology. Unlike the naval battle, which required hundreds of cannons, this siege presented a chance to showcase the copper cannons properly.
Just then, a scout who had been surveying the enemy’s defenses approached Callisto and knelt before him.
“Admiral, I bring news of the enemy’s situation! The walls are armed with old iron cannons—six on the left and five on the right, all trained on our forces!”
“So, they’re old cannons after all… but more of them than expected. Jeanne must have struggled to scrape together the funds for this. Well done.”
Callisto smirked before issuing commands to his officers.
“Rest in the barracks while the sun is up. At nightfall, advance the troops to the walls and dig deep, narrow trenches.”
“Yes, Admiral!”
The officers saluted, and Callisto turned back to the scout with a satisfied nod.
Under cover of darkness, the enemy atop the walls wouldn’t be able to see Callisto’s forces advancing. By the time Jeanne’s troops realized what had happened, it would already be morning, and the soldiers would be right under their noses.
“Are you sure it’s safe to get that close to the walls?” Lawrence, standing nearby, murmured worriedly. “If they start firing down at us, no trench will protect the men from prolonged bombardment.”
I chuckled softly, shaking my head.
“Jeanne’s using old cannons. Brine’s improved ones are a different story, but the outdated models Jeanne’s troops are relying on… they’re nothing to worry about.”
“…You think so?”