Leave the Villainous Second Male Lead Alone - Chapter 8.13

Lawrence still seemed uneasy but refrained from further questions.

“Your Majesty! Your Majesty!”

The next morning, Jeanne was awakened by the frantic footsteps of a messenger running toward her chambers. Her sharp brows furrowed as she opened her eyes, irritation flickering across her features.

“The empress hasn’t rung her bell to summon anyone. Do you mean to disturb her rest?”

“But… it’s urgent! Please deliver this to Her Majesty immediately!”

The attendant hurriedly ushered the messenger out, their reprimanding tone muffled behind the closing door. Jeanne let out a sigh of annoyance and sat up, leaning against the headboard. A maid silently approached to drape a shawl over her shoulders.

“Very well. Let him in.”

With a deep bow, the maid retreated to the door, gesturing for the messenger to enter. He stumbled forward, his face pale, and collapsed to his knees, trembling as he delivered his report.

“Your Majesty, the Second Prince’s army… They’ve moved right up to the walls overnight and dug trenches!”

“They’ve moved right up to the walls?”

Jeanne’s tone remained calm, but her blue eyes sharpened. She had expected Callisto’s forces to keep their distance. The high walls, equipped with cannons, should have been enough to deter them from getting too close.

“Dug into trenches… How foolish. How long do they think they can hold out like that?”

Reaching for the vase on her windowsill, Jeanne plucked a yellow flower and snapped its stem in half, her lips curling in distaste.

“Who brought this flower in here? It reminds me of that bastard’s golden eyes.”

At her subtle signal, an attendant quickly removed the vase from her sight.

Her gaze drifted back to the trembling messenger before her. With a soft smile, she gestured gracefully at him.

“By the way… What did you just call me?”

“Y-Your Majesty, the Empress…”

Jeanne’s smile widened, her expression almost serene. The title, once a source of pride, now grated on her ears.

With a delicate wave of her hand, she ordered, “Take him away and execute him.”

“Y-Your Majesty! Please, I beg your forgiveness, Your Majesty!”

Ignoring his cries, Jeanne’s attendants rang the bell to summon the guards. As they dragged the screaming messenger out, the heavy door shut behind them with a resounding thud. Silence fell once more.

When the midday bell tolled from the cathedral, Jeanne finished her breakfast and dressed in somber black robes, exchanging her usual vibrant attire for a more imposing, austere image.

The empress was no longer a title she needed to wield as a mask of power. Now, as emperor, she embodied strength and authority.

Standing atop the walls, Jeanne gazed down at the soldiers filling the open field below. In the lead, astride a black stallion, Callisto’s commanding presence drew her attention. His black cloak billowed in the wind as he stared back up at her.

“You may be bold, Callisto,” she murmured, “but you’re as doomed as anyone who challenges me.”

“Jeanne’s preparing to fire,” Callisto observed.

“We’re all set! Shall we begin now?”

“Are there any issues with the Gillos and Camois corps?”

“No, Commander!”

“Good.”

Callisto nodded lightly and took a moment to scan the surroundings.

The soldiers had just finished installing several large cannons across the hills facing the fortress walls. Brine, who had accompanied them to the battlefield, inspected the cannons personally and supervised their setup. Six bronze cannons were aimed at the northern, southern, and eastern gates of the fortress, two per gate.

Meanwhile, the remaining 25 cannon muzzles were, as Etienne put it, pointing in entirely the wrong directions.

“Calli… the cannon alignment looks a bit strange. Am I imagining things?”

Earlier, Etienne had been quietly observing Brine and the soldiers when he voiced his unease.

Despite having no experience with war, Etienne had a surprisingly sharp eye for such matters. Callisto felt a pang of guilt but kept his expression calm as he turned to flash Etienne a reassuring smile.

“Strange? That can’t be true, brother.”

It very much could be true. But there was no need to inform Etienne and cause unnecessary worry. After all, he was someone Callisto loved deeply—not just as his older brother, but as his partner. That said, Etienne’s idea of how a battle should be fought often diverged from Callisto’s.

Previously, Etienne would have accepted Callisto’s reassurances without question. Now, however, he seemed to have developed a sharper instinct. He continued to eye Callisto suspiciously and added,

“Having too many cannons in one place limits movement. Why did you set up so many here? There seem to be far more cannons and ammunition than I’d heard about… Is breaking through the gates really worth this much effort?”

“Haha… Brother…”

Well, it wasn’t just the gates he planned to destroy. That thought stayed in Callisto’s mind, unspoken.

Wanting to put Etienne at ease, Callisto leaned in, pressed a kiss to his cheek, and spoke softly,

“We’ll be starting the assault soon. It’s dangerous, so please step back. …Will you pray for me?”

“Pray? For you?”

Etienne gave him a skeptical look, as though wondering when Callisto started believing in prayer, but he didn’t argue further. At that moment, Callisto gestured to a soldier, who approached and bowed to Etienne.

“Your Grace, allow me to escort you to safety.”

“Oh, alright then… Calli, you haven’t forgotten your promise to avoid dangerous actions, have you?”

“Of course not.”

Well, not until after this battle. After all, I’ll have a family to think about then. Once again, Callisto kept his true thoughts to himself and waved warmly as Etienne was led away.

Boom!

Bang!

Thunder roared again from the sky. The Harrington forces, having reloaded their cannons, unleashed another barrage. Unlike the scattered fire from earlier, this round appeared to be aimed squarely at Callisto himself.

‘Frankly, I’d do the same…’

The adjutant muttered to himself, casting a sharp glance at Callisto as he narrowly dodged a nearby shell. Meanwhile, Callisto calmly adjusted the reins of his horse, elegantly evading the incoming cannonballs. Despite the thick dust and smoke rising around him, his composed, statuesque face showed no signs of alarm—much to the adjutant’s growing irritation.

Still, letting the enemy continue to attack unchecked was out of the question. Furious, the adjutant shouted at the soldiers.

“Counterattack! What are you all doing?!”

“Y-yes, sir!”

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