Leave the Villainous Second Male Lead Alone - Chapter 8.4

Both Callisto and Ivry paled visibly. Ivry muttered under his breath, “I’ve officially heard everything now.”

Before the conversation could spiral further, Lilibet tugged on Lawrence’s coat again. Annoyed but curious, he glanced down at her.

“Does the Armagnac Young Master and my husband both like the Second Prince? Is this a love triangle?” she asked with innocent seriousness.

“A what?” Lawrence sputtered, his voice cracking. I was equally stunned but couldn’t suppress a laugh at the sheer absurdity of the situation. Lilibet had somehow interpreted this mess as a romantic drama, complete with a love triangle. Her precociousness was as impressive as it was baffling.

While I struggled to keep a straight face, Lilibet continued undeterred. “Do you? Yes or no?”

Lawrence floundered, his mouth opening and closing wordlessly. Taking his silence as an admission, Lilibet nodded with exaggerated solemnity.

“I see. Well, since you both owe my husband and the Second Prince a debt, I’ll resolve it myself!”

“Beth, what are you—” Ivry began, but Lilibet raised her voice, her declaration echoing through the room.

“Marry me, Armagnac Young Master!”

“…Excuse me?” Lawrence choked out, his voice barely above a whisper. Ivry sighed audibly, while Callisto stifled a laugh, his expression equal parts amused and impressed.

“Your little sister is quite formidable, Carmois Young Master,” Callisto remarked with a grin.

“I’m so sorry, Lawrence,” Ivry muttered, burying his face in his hands.

Meanwhile, Lilibet beamed up at Lawrence, her cheeks flushed. It seemed her taste in men had shifted, and Lawrence, rugged and sun-kissed, had become her new fixation.

But Lawrence, ever the pragmatic adult, knelt down to her level, forcing a strained smile as he gently addressed her.

“Your Highness, I have a younger brother, just a year younger than you. Wouldn’t it be better to marry someone your age?”

“But I like the Armagnac Young Master!” Lilibet insisted, her determination unwavering.

“Your Highness, I’m often away from home. If you marry my brother, you’ll always have someone by your side,” Lawrence coaxed.

“…I don’t want to be alone,” she admitted reluctantly.

Sensing an opening, Lawrence pressed on. “You could play together every day. Even house.”

“Really? Does he look like you?” she asked, her curiosity piqued.

“Of course. He’s my brother.”

“Alright, I’ll think about it!” Lilibet finally conceded.

Relieved, Lawrence straightened up, his smile one of cautious victory. “I’ll escort Her Highness to the Carmois estate,” he said to Callisto, “but we’ll finish this conversation when I return.”

Callisto waved him off, clearly unconcerned. As Lawrence and Lilibet left the room hand-in-hand, Callisto stretched his arms, his golden eyes gleaming mischievously in the sunlight.

“Well, that’s settled. Now it’s time to hunt some rats.”

A week later, I stood on the docks of Blast Harbor, watching the vast fleet assembled before me. Beside me, Briné silently observed the ships preparing to set sail.

Nearly a hundred ships comprised the fleet, and among them, several dozen were the newly constructed vessels Briné had painstakingly developed over the past months. Her apprehension was evident despite her typically composed demeanor, her hands fidgeting as she watched the untested ships prepare to prove their worth in their first battle.

“Briné, are those the new ships you’ve been working on?” I asked, pointing toward the uniquely designed vessels trailing behind Ettyho and Gillosho.

Briné nodded enthusiastically, a mixture of pride and nervousness flashing across her face. I leaned forward, examining the ships. These hybrids, a fusion of traditional sailing ships and the galley ships favored by the First Prince’s fleet, were unfamiliar yet intriguing in design.

“They seem capable of carrying far more soldiers than a standard sailing ship,” I noted.

Callisto’s fleet, honed through years of experience in the vast North Sea, relied heavily on wind-powered vessels. However, the coming civil war would bring battles closer to the Empire’s shores, where maneuverable galley ships could dominate. To counter this, Briné had devised hybrid ships equipped with multiple oars for propulsion when the wind wasn’t favorable.

The resulting design was striking—massive sails towered above decks while rows of oars extended from the hull like the legs of a centipede. Though practical, the ships were visually jarring. What drew my attention most, however, was the pointed, iron-tipped prow affixed to the bow of each vessel, where a decorative figurehead would traditionally be.

“Briné, what’s the deal with those?” I asked, gesturing toward the ominous iron spikes.

Her composure faltered for the first time, and she cleared her throat awkwardly without responding.

“You’re not seriously suggesting these are for ramming other ships, are you?” I pressed.

“Well…”

Her hesitation spoke volumes. Ramming wasn’t unheard of in naval combat, but designing ships explicitly for that purpose was unorthodox. Knowing Briné’s pragmatic nature, I doubted she had come up with the idea herself. This had Callisto’s bold—and reckless—fingerprints all over it.

When Briné remained silent, I sighed and asked again, “We already have artillery. Didn’t you just finish developing those iron cannons? Plus, you said the bronze cannons were complete. Why add something so… risky?”

My frustration grew as I recalled Callisto’s decision to make one of these experimental vessels his flagship for the upcoming battle. Initially, I assumed it was a strategic choice to lead from an advanced ship, but now it seemed more likely that he intended to spearhead a ramming maneuver himself.

By now, I understood that Callisto rarely prioritized his own safety when devising strategies. This was why he always needed someone to pull him back from the brink—and yet, this time, even Briné hadn’t intervened.

Noticing my irritation, Briné finally muttered, almost defensively, “Callisto argued that cannons would be less effective in close combat, so we needed other options.”

Her explanation wasn’t without merit. Cannons, while powerful, were cumbersome in close-range battles where ships locked prows, and combatants boarded each other. In such scenarios, traditional weapons like swords, spears, or even ramming tactics could be more practical.

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