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Translator: Vine
Chapter: 65
Chapter Title: The Worn-Out Male Lead Picked the Wrong Opponent
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“Kkiiing...”
Cynthia, who had been huddling at the distant sound of gunshots, spotted the lone baby bear.
The baby bear whimpered as it grabbed Cynthia’s leg with its front paw.
“You shouldn’t touch the cub.”
Karos knew full well that a cub was more dangerous than an adult bear. The mother might return any moment and unleash her fury.
“So cute.”
Despite Karos’s warning, Cynthia scooped up the baby bear like an infant and began rocking it gently.
“I said not to touch it.”
“It’s too cute to resist... Look, it likes it too.”
“If you can’t do the same thing a year from now, put it down.”
“It’ll be the other way around by then.”
As Cynthia carefully set the baby bear down, she spotted someone and widened her eyes.
Masera was gazing down at her, breathing raggedly.
Cynthia tensed up like she’d come face-to-face with a wild beast at the sight of his disheveled hair and murderous glare. Unknown blood was splattered across his face.
“Brigadier General?”
Masera approached Cynthia and shrugged off his wool coat.
“Ah.”
Then he irritably snatched Karos’s overcoat from her shoulders and flung it aside.
“Why the anger?”
Karos stared at his discarded coat on the ground and asked in a displeased tone.
Masera, who had draped his own coat over Cynthia, turned to face Karos.
He strode toward Karos with measured steps, then raised one hand, his face expressionless.
Thwack-!
With the sound of impact, Karos’s head snapped to the side. His cheek swelled instantly, and blood beaded from his split lip.
Masera issued a warning to Karos, who was rubbing his cheek, in a terrifyingly calm voice.
“Don’t cross the line.”
“What?”
“Are you truly asking because you don’t know?”
It was a raspy voice, as if scratching at his throat.
Masera scooped up the flustered Cynthia, turning his back on Karos.
Cynthia curled into a ball and silently watched him walk.
“Um, Brigadier General. Let me explain—I took some medicine and fell asleep, then woke up to an unfamiliar ceiling. Suddenly, I was locked in a basement?”
“I know you were kidnapped.”
“But why are you angry...”
Masera’s lips pressed into a thin line.
The response came only after a long pause.
“Being kidnapped together means you were in the same room.”
“I was asleep at the time. And he’s family, so why...”
Ha, he let out a sigh, his eyes flicking upward in extreme displeasure.
“That’s the problem. Crossing the family line.”
Cynthia clutched the coat closed, her face troubled.
“It’s a misunderstanding. It’s absolutely not like that.”
But trying to explain in exhaustive detail that she had zero interest in Karos—leaning more toward dislike—felt utterly ridiculous.
Masera spoke.
“Just conduct yourself properly and avoid creating misunderstandings. Not you, but that ‘man’ unnecessarily approaching my wife.”
Cynthia felt his arms tightening around her bit by bit.
Soon, a low voice laced with ragged breaths reached her.
“I can’t very well keep you locked away either.”
Why was he spouting lines straight out of an obsessive stalker novel?
Cynthia shrank back at his sharpened gaze.
For someone extroverted who constantly had to meet people, becoming the heroine of an imprisonment tale was as good as a death sentence.
At any rate, she needed to explain being in the same room as Karos.
“I got a note saying to come to my room. It wasn’t from me, so I don’t know what it said.”
“I have the note. I found it first in your room.”
He seemed utterly on edge, and prying into the note’s contents felt like it would only stoke his anger further.
And so Cynthia clamped her mouth shut and meekly stayed in his arms.
But the chatterbox’s silence didn’t last long.
“Were you hurt? There’s blood on your face.”
Masera turned his head away from her hand reaching to wipe the blood.
‘Tch...’
That man was seriously pissed off!
It felt like walking on thin ice—or rather, like she was about to be hurled onto it.
Guilt from her many transgressions, or the strange emotional rollercoaster—whatever it was, she couldn’t quite pin it down.
As she endured the awkward silence, she spotted a foot poking out from the dense bushes.
In that instant, Masera’s large hand covered her face, blocking her view.
“What was that just now?”
“What do you mean?”
“No, there was a man lying in the bushes?”
“Talking about other men in front of me is forbidden.”
“...?”
In the end, she never learned what it was.
Karos watched the two receding figures before spitting out blood-tinged saliva. His struck cheek throbbed fiercely.
“Pride? Or possessiveness?”
He must have figured out we were in the same room. And he’s clearly wary of me...
Karos let out a hollow laugh and began limping away.
Two soldiers searching the forest spotted him and helped him along.
Back at Izac Major General’s villa, Karos received emergency treatment from the doctor.
Around lunchtime, Helen visited his room, gazing at Karos with a worried expression.
“What happened? Kidnapped? With Cynthia at that time?”
“Yeah.”
Lying in bed, Karos glanced at his bandaged ankle as he replied.
“I got a note telling me to come to her room.”
“From Cynthia?”
Karos shook his head.
“Doesn’t seem like it was from Cynthia.”
“Do you have the note? It’s evidence.”
“Lost it.”
“What did it say?”
“That’s all there was to it.”
Helen, who had already ransacked every corner of Cynthia’s room, clenched her fists tightly.
‘Dropped it during the kidnapping? The evidence for the scandal is gone—now I’m the one who might get framed.’
Unlike a fabricated scandal, kidnapping was a grave matter, and they’d obviously track down whoever delivered the note. In the worst case, she could end up charged as an accomplice.
‘Of all times, the incident happens right after Karos heads to the room.’
Feeling anxious, Helen bit her nails as she left the room.
The kidnapping had canceled all remaining events, and those at the villa were set to leave after proving alibis and giving statements.
She needed to act before then.
She headed straight for the banquet hall.
The gathered people were discussing the kidnapping.
“Prince Karos heading to the princess’s room right then—it does seem like an intentional ploy.”
As Izac Major General spoke of the possibility of an inside accomplice, Helen stepped forward.
“Ah, I know about that. I just came from my brother.”
Ahem. Clearing her throat, she continued calmly.
“Cynthia sent Karos a note asking him to come to her room. She relies on him so much, and being sick, she probably needed someone by her side.”
By planting the misunderstanding first, even if they denied it, it would look like they were making excuses.
The others found her words reasonable. After all, Masera had left his ailing Cynthia alone to attend the banquet the night before.
Besides, some were already aware of rumors about the siblings’ unusually close bond.
Then one sharp-eyed investigator asked,
“Where’s the note? It could have been fabricated.”
“He said he lost it. Victims have no reason to lie about that. Of course, if there’s room for misunderstanding, they might deny it.”
At Helen’s firm statement, Valeria’s face flushed red, and the murmurs around her grew louder.
“Calling her brother to her room late at night instead of her husband?”
“Is that rumor actually true?”
As public opinion increasingly veered toward a sibling scandal, the silent Masera finally spoke.
“I have the note. I picked it up from the floor in the room.”
All eyes turned to Masera.
Helen smiled amiably and asked him,
“Could you share the contents?”
Masera calmly pulled the note from his coat pocket and began reading in a steady voice.
“‘Come to my room where no one will see. This is our chance to run away together.’ That’s what the note says.”
The shocking content sent ripples of uproar through the crowd. To anyone listening, it sounded like a husband exposing his wife’s scandal.
Her pride wounded, Valeria shot to her feet, unable to bear the humiliation.
“Ha, there’s a limit to toying with people.”
Valeria’s friends supported her as she trembled with profound insult.
Helen covered her mouth to hide her rising smirk.
‘It’s going exactly as planned. But who added that bit about running away together?’
At any rate, things were unfolding just as she wanted. As she inwardly cheered, Masera added,
“But this wasn’t sent by my wife.”
The room fell silent as if doused with cold water.
“How can you be so certain?”
The highly agitated Valeria demanded of him.
Masera held out the note with a faint smile.
“What kind of husband wouldn’t recognize his own wife’s handwriting?”
