Chapter 12
“…Alice.”
Terry suddenly twitched his eyebrow and spoke. Alice, who had stepped back from him on the sofa and was warming the bed sheets with a heated iron, responded to his call.
“Yes, my lord.”
“How’s Liam?”
“Pardon? Sir Liam?”
“Does Liam look like the male lead from a romance novel too?”
Alice blinked in surprise and thought for a moment.
She mentally flipped through her personal list of the Top 100 Most Popular and Attractive Male Leads in Romance Novels.
“Um, yes! He’s more like the ‘beast-type’ male lead.”
“Beast… what?”
Sure, Liam had grown up almost like an animal in a cage, but still—what kind of blunt description was that?
As Terry stared at her in disbelief, Alice nodded innocently.
“He has a perfect muscular body and a raw, wild aura… That strong jawline and rugged handsomeness… He’s just like the male lead in the novel My Beastlike Husband that I read before.”
“My Beastlike Hus— I-I see. Fine.”
To Terry, who had only ever seen Liam as a nephew-like figure, these impressions were completely foreign.
“This place is really wonderful, my lord. When I lived in the countryside, I thought men like romance novel protagonists only existed in books. But after coming to the capital, His Highness the Prince, and Sir Liam too… I never imagined such handsome and amazing people really existed.”
At Alice’s cheerful voice, Terry chuckled dryly.
‘They really are straight out of a novel. Actual male lead candidates, too.’
Whether Terry was lamenting inwardly or not, Alice finished her duties neatly and stood up after smoothing the blanket.
“The bed is ready, my lord.”
“Alright. Thank you.”
“If your headache gets worse, please ring the bell. I’ll bring medicine.”
“I don’t think it’s that bad, but I’ll keep it in mind.”
Alice bowed and turned to leave. Then she hesitated and looked back at him.
“Um, my lord… About your nephew’s memorial day coming up…”
Terry slowly turned his gaze toward her.
Alice asked carefully,
“Should I prepare lots of cherries again this time?”
“Yeah.”
Turning his face forward again, Terry replied calmly.
“My nephew liked cherries.”
Terry woke from a light sleep to the sound of rain.
After tossing and turning all night, tangled in irritation and restless thoughts, he had finally fallen asleep—only to be woken again by the rain.
Staring at the ceiling with dull eyes, he thought,
‘Betty Romance. I knew that nouveau riche husband of hers looked shady. Turns out he really stepped into the underworld.’
The only proper connection Betty had was her husband.
And the only channel through which she could hear rumors about Adrahim was probably him.
And there was only one place her husband could get information about Adrahim.
‘Things haven’t been going well financially lately. Did he end up borrowing money from the very people who killed his son?’
If that was true…
‘You piece of trash, worse than vermin…’
Should I just go smash them?
No. Should I really kill him?
As his thoughts grew darker, cracks seemed to form in his headboard.
Terry snapped back to his senses.
‘Calm down, Terry Romance. If you wreck the house again, what about the servants who live here on their salaries?’
If he lived alone, he would’ve destroyed everything already. But he had too many mouths to feed.
Staggering to his feet, Terry suddenly went blank.
It had already been nearly three years since his nephew died and his memorial rites began.
Was it because he saw Betty yesterday?
Because he heard Adrahim’s name?
Because Liam brought that letter?
Or all of it?
He missed Jun terribly.
Since possessing the body of a novel’s protagonist, the people in Terry’s life fell into two categories.
Those he already knew—main and supporting characters.
And those he didn’t—extras.
Since the former greatly outnumbered the latter, everyone he met was someone he knew inside out.
He knew their personalities, their pasts, and their futures.
While building relationships and talking with them, he quickly lost interest.
Except for a few who reacted vividly when poked—like Lily Meresi, whose crying face was adorable.
Improving his own life was more fun.
After all, he’d met these people countless times in print. What was new about meeting them again?
It was more interesting to interact with nameless extras.
With familiar names and faces, he could easily predict how things would turn out.
But Jun was different.
‘Auntie, did you play with toys like this when you were little?’
‘No. I didn’t have toys.’
‘Then what did you play?’
‘I didn’t. I worked.’
‘Whoa… Wasn’t that hard?’
‘Hard? …I don’t know. I don’t remember. It was just normal back then.’
‘Then play with me now. Let’s play a lot. You have to make up for it. I’ll play with you, Auntie.’
You see, Auntie is the protagonist.
A super-strong, overpowered archmage protagonist.
So I have to study well, be capable, and walk a flower-covered path to survive according to the original story.
But a kid like him wouldn’t understand any of that.
‘I like you the most in the whole world, Auntie. Even more than Mom.’
At those innocent words, Terry impulsively leaned close to his small body and listened for his heartbeat.
It was beating.
Warm.
Blood was flowing.
You’re alive.
You’re a living person.
“Count, are you going out? It’s raining.”
“I know. Bring me an umbrella.”
“Are you going out? Shall I call a carriage?”
“No. I’ll just take a walk, Head Butler.”
“Understood.”
My mood’s completely ruined.
Holding the umbrella the butler gave him, Terry walked along the gravel path instead of the muddy road.
‘My luck has been terrible lately…’
He tried to think positively.
Spring rain meant roses would bloom soon.
Wild roses were his favorite. If he covered the mansion’s fence with flowers, it would look pretty.
Thinking that, he stood outside the estate, staring for a long time at the wall where new buds were sprouting.
Then he sensed someone.
“Who is it?”
It wasn’t a servant. The footsteps were heavy.
Without turning around, Terry spoke bluntly.
“I’m not in the mood for tricks. If you’re here to mess around, get lost.”
I’m in a bad mood right now.
If someone starts trouble, I might lose it.
He wanted to keep the wall intact until flowers bloomed.
As he barely held onto his patience, a familiar voice reached him.
“…My lord.”
Terry’s eyes widened, and he finally turned.
“Liam?”
Why was the knight commander here during training hours?
When he looked closer, he was even more shocked.
Liam wasn’t even using an umbrella—he was getting soaked.
“Why are you here? Aren’t you afraid of catching a cold? Spring colds are serious, you know.”
“I heard the estate collapsed last night.”
“What?”
There had been some noise—enough for people to look toward the mansion.
But he thought he’d handled it well.
Was it not enough?
Panicked, Terry thought quickly.
“It’s not the Chronicle newspaper again, is it?”
But in Liam’s hand…
A soaked newspaper.
‘Damn that newspaper company. I should turn them into pulp someday.’
Do they really have nothing else to report? They’ve been obsessed with him for ages.
“Which bastard did it?”
“…Huh?”
“The one who wrecked the mansion.”
Under rain-soaked hair, Liam’s red eyes were calm.
And yet, boiling.
Each word sounded like it was being chewed and crushed.
Terry felt awkward.
‘It was… me.’
Wouldn’t it be embarrassing to say, “Yeah, that was me”?
“Uh… I handled it. I’m strong. Super strong.”
He brushed it off vaguely.
Liam stared at him for a moment, then suddenly reached out.
After removing his glove, his hand stopped near Terry’s cheek—as if respecting a boundary he shouldn’t cross.
“…Are you hurt?”
“No. Of course not. What do you take me for?”
“…”
Instead of replying, Liam let out a relieved sigh.
Terry felt strange.
‘Damn. He really keeps looking like my nephew.’
That’s a problem.
‘And I don’t want to date someone who feels like my nephew.’
That’s also a problem.
But I have to, right? If you’re the male lead…
Ah, God.
God—no, Author.
‘I won’t let this slide…’
