World's Best Protagonist [BL]-Chapter 126: Night of the Banquet (2)

Lexie’s boots echoed heavily in the tight silence as she stepped inside the tower room. The rancid air coiled in her throat the moment she crossed the threshold, and she quickly lifted a hand to cover her mouth and nose.

Her eyes swept across the chamber, dim, derelict, and mournfully still, before they landed on Etienne standing frozen by the decaying bed.

"Is that..." she trailed off, but the rest of the question hung in the air, too dreadful to finish.

Etienne didn’t answer. His gaze was fixed on the bed, his eyes wide and unblinking. Slowly, he stepped closer, but each inch forward only made the stench worse, and the reality clearer.

"No," he murmured, his voice cracking with disbelief. "No, this can’t be right. Noir was expecting his mother to be here. Alive. Perhaps this person is not..." his voice trailed off when he saw the light pink hair scattered around the skull.

Lexie looked away, her brows furrowing. "Etienne..." she said gently, but he didn’t seem to hear her.

All their efforts—Noir’s hopes, the risks they’d taken—Etienne’s healing gift that he had guarded so closely for this moment... for what? For a corpse.

He hesitated just a step from the bed, his hand trembling as he reached out, almost as if a miracle might still linger beneath the heavy blanket of death. But the closer he got, the heavier the air became. The stench was no illusion, no curse. It was rotten. Unmistakably.

"Etienne!" Lexie hissed, suddenly alert.

He looked up at her, startled. Lexie was by the window, looking out.

"Someone noticed the guards weren’t on their post. They’re coming," she said quickly. "We have to leave. Now."

Still stunned, Etienne stood rooted in place, but Lexie grabbed his arm, tugging firmly. "Come on. There’s nothing more we can do here."

With one last glance at the room, at the solitary bed and the woman they failed to save, Etienne followed her down the stairs.

They slipped past the unconscious guards and exited the tower under the cloak of night. The courtyard outside was quiet, the sounds of the banquet distant, like a world far removed from the grief that now sat heavy in their chests.

Etienne slumped onto a stone bench tucked beneath a line of trees, hands pressed to his face. His shoulders trembled as he exhaled, silent and bitter.

Lexie paced before him, frustrated. "Damn it," she muttered under her breath. "All that planning... for this?"

Etienne was silent. He was deep in thought, trying to piece together how he would break the news to Noir. How could he? Noir, who had survived everything for the sake of that reunion. Who had desperately begged him, lowering his pride for his mother.

"I’ll go back," Lexie said finally. "We need to inform Claude. And the duke."

Etienne gave a faint nod, not looking up. Lexie glanced back at him before turning and disappearing toward the hall, leaving him behind, alone and hollow.

Meanwhile, the grand hall, vibrant with music and dazzling lights, suddenly felt far too loud to Claude.

He stood at the edge of the serving line, silver tray in hand, eyes scanning the room out of habit more than necessity. Bejeweled women waved their fans in slow rhythm, while the men in embroidered coats spoke in low murmurs, ever watchful despite the smiles on their faces.

It was a scene most familiar to him. Yet, he was still not used to it. He rarely attended banquets because he was always on the front lines of war. He was a monarch who did not let his people protect him, rather, he fought to protect them.

So, for years, he was on the battlefield, and the palace’s parties had seen a decline due to wars.

Duke Eugene approached with a silver goblet, the cut of his coat as sharp as his voice when he spoke in a whisper.

"Remember," he said under his breath, pretending to sip from the goblet. "The palace is embedded with a magical censor. Anyone who uses a spell will be identified. It won’t be anonymous."

Claude nodded once, his voice equally low. "I won’t need to use my magic. Not if your plan goes smoothly." He did not bother to explain that what he can do does not require a spell.

The duke didn’t press further, only gave a slight tilt of his head before walking off toward a group of noble lords. Claude’s gaze trailed him only briefly.

Then Lexie appeared.

She came from a side hall, her server’s apron askew, her expression stormy. Claude noticed instantly, shifting toward her even before she reached him.

"I need to talk to you—and the duke," she said grimly.

Her tone must have reached beyond Claude, because Duke Eugene was already turning back toward them. The three stood close together near the refreshment table, speaking in hushed tones.

"Did your companion succeed?" Duke Eugene asked immediately.

Lexie shook her head. The duke shot her a questioning look, and she opened her mouth to explain, but another server came by to the line and fixed something on the table.

Duke Eugene caught Noir’s eyes, and he looked at them like he was asking for an update. He turned to the two again and whispered, "Meet me at the last resting room in that hallway."

Lexie and Claude followed, while the duke went to fetch Noir.

"Ladies, may I borrow a few minutes of the princess?" he flashed a handsome smile at the girls circling Princess Eleanor. "I believe Her Highness and I have some important things to talk about."

"Oh, I’m sure you do, your grace," the count’s wife answered with a knowing smile. "We will leave the two of you alone then." She waved her fan, and the other girls followed her as she walked away.

"What is it?" Noir immediately asked, and anticipation was evident in his eyes. He longed to hear the news that his sick mother was healed.

"Let’s talk somewhere else, Your Highness," Duke Eugene answered, pulling Noir to himself. He led him to their meeting place.

—

"Where’s Etienne?" Claude asked as they walked to the room that the duke pointed at.

"He’s outside. Processing," Lexie replied. "Didn’t want to come back in."

Claude stopped. He turned to Lexie hastily. "You shouldn’t have left him alone." He handed the tray to Lexie and dashed outside.

"Captain—" Lexie called, but he was already gone.

—

Outside, Etienne hadn’t moved from the bench. The wind was gentler now, rustling through the trees like whispers. The stars were bright, indifferent to the sorrow rooted beneath them.

He didn’t look up until footsteps crunched on gravel before him.

Claude stood there, his posture rigid, but not cold. He looked at Etienne, waiting for something. Etienne didn’t speak.

After a pause, Claude sat beside him, not too close, just enough. "We have to go. We’re meeting Noir inside. You can tell him what happened—"

"The plan didn’t account for this," Etienne said finally, his voice hoarse. "Captain, I...I can’t face him."

Claude sighed. "You haven’t tried yet."

Etienne laughed bitterly. "Yeah. I couldn’t even if I wanted to. I can’t bring a dead person back to life."

Claude was rendered speechless. He knew Lexie had to break some bad news to them, judging from the face she showed. But this was unexpected.

"What if he...what if Noir blames me?"

"He won’t," Claude replied. "He knew this was beyond your power, Etienne."

Etienne fell silent again, hands clasped tightly between his knees.

"I’ll talk to Noir," Claude said after a beat. "Let’s go back inside."

Etienne looked at him. "Why you?"

"Because I’m the one who promised him we’d help."

Etienne lowered his gaze. He remained on his seat, still hesitating. A palm appeared in his sight, and looking up, he saw the captain lending him a hand. After calming himself again, he grabbed the hand, and Claude pulled him up.

"Let’s go," Claude uttered, leading the way.

Not long after, they arrived at the room. Lexie was already inside, waiting. She sighed in relief after she saw Etienne. Only after the captain left did she realize it was too risky to leave Etienne alone in that unfamiliar place.

A minute later, the door opened again, revealing Noir and Duke Eugene. The door hadn’t closed yet when Noir rushed to Etienne, asking him with hopeful eyes.

"Did you see her? Did you succeed, Eti? Is my mother okay now?"

Noir’s hopeful tone broke Etienne’s heart. How could he tell him the truth? He stayed silent and just lowered his head.

Seeing this, Noir’s chest tightened with anxiety and panic. "Etienne, answer me!" He shook Etienne by the shoulders.

"She’s dead," Lexie said all of a sudden, sending the room into utter silence. Her voice lowered, "Your mother is dead, Noir. She’d been gone for a while. We only found a corpse, not a patient."

The duke’s usually impassive expression cracked. Claude, by contrast, remained stoic, though a muscle in his jaw ticked. Noir stood still, looking at Lexie as if she spoke a foreign language.

"Noir...I’m sorry."

When Etienne spoke, Noir was slapped by reality. He shook his head in denial and rushed to the door to go to his mother, but Eugene blocked him. "You can’t, Your Highness," he mumbled with saddened eyes.