Blackening the Affectionate Male Lead (Completed Main Story) - Chapter 3

“…Your Highness, Prince Chester.”

He bore no resemblance to Prince Karl, yet his aura alone revealed his royal status. Even without his golden hair, she would have recognized him instantly.

His gentle eyes, calm expression, and unwavering composure in this situation overwhelmed Whitney with guilt.

She should have desperately denied it when he shook his head at her. If only she’d asked for a pen and paper, she wouldn’t be trapped in this place.

“It’s my fault. You don’t belong in a place like this…”

Whitney couldn’t look him in the eye. She bowed her head deeply and pulled her knees close to her chest.

“It’s not your fault—erase it from your memory. There’s no need to feel guilty. If anything, I’m sorry for dragging you into this mess.”

At those words, tears burst forth. Whitney shook her head and sobbed.

“…Are you crying? You’re the first person to cry for me.”

Whitney turned her head to look at Chester. Leaning against the wall, he blinked slowly and stared intently at her. The moment she saw the faint smile on his lips, her heart ached.

It felt as if he saw right through her—his expression devoid of hope, resigned to fate. Whitney pressed her lips tightly together.

“All you have to do is say you saw me—just nod your head. That’s how we can get out of here. Though, I suppose you’re in a similar plight as I am. If you do get out… I hope you survive.”

As soon as Chester finished speaking, he raised his hand and called the guard.

“She confessed that she saw me—let her go.”

“Are you certain?”

“Yes. I won’t change my mind, so go ahead without worry.”

Whitney shook her head. This couldn’t be allowed to happen. Even as guards dragged her away, she kept her eyes locked on Chester.

For some inexplicable reason, her tears wouldn’t stop flowing.

Thus, Whitney returned to the Ducal Mansion.

A few days later, Whitney received news that Chester de Clifton, His Royal Highness the Second Prince, had died.

[This is the timeline separator]

Please! Please…!

Whitney clutched her throat and wept soundlessly. If only she’d been able to speak, she might have prevented Prince Chester’s death.

His kind voice still echoed clearly in her ears—telling her it was all right, not to worry.

Her tears wouldn’t cease. She felt chilled to the bone at the thought of what she’d done. She should never have believed those words. If only she’d insisted on his innocence until the very end, he might have lived.

Prince Chester’s death was her fault.

Whitney clutched her throat and writhed in agony. Suddenly, her voice had vanished—no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t fathom why.

She tried screaming, strained with all her might, yet no sound emerged.

“…It’s all because of me. Ugh… If only I’d spoken properly…!”

A silent wail burst from her. She collapsed onto the floor, thrashing in despair, tears streaming down her face.

Whitney couldn’t believe the tragedy she’d caused. With a tear-streaked face, she shakily pushed herself up from the ground.

“I must see His Highness Karl. I have to tell him it must be set right. Surely, he’ll listen to me.”

Hadn’t he said he knew it was her, not Melissa, who had saved him? If she pleaded to restore Prince Chester’s honor, he might help her.

She hadn’t believed his words because she assumed Karl could never love someone as worthless as herself—the one who had failed to save her own father.

Whitney, utterly unremarkable and steeped in misfortune, had never truly laughed—her stepmother’s cruel words haunted her: “You must live your life in guilt. Whenever you smile, I’m reminded of your dead father, and it gives me chills.”

After her father’s death—caused by her—her life had fallen apart.

She merely nodded along as her stepmother hurled daily abuse, insisting everything was her fault. In a place where no one stood by her, Whitney had no one to trust.

Even when she insisted it was an accident, people only stared coldly, whispering she was a jealous, vicious girl who’d leapt recklessly onto the carriage.

Yet Karl, despite Melissa’s lies, had claimed he believed Whitney saved him. Maybe, just maybe, he would give her a chance to set things right.

After all, he was the only one who had ever reached out to her when everyone else turned away.

Whitney opened the door and stepped out. She headed straight for Melissa’s room, but a maid blocked her path.

“My lady Whitney, please come back later. Lady Melissa is with a guest—she isn’t even in her room right now.”

Whitney shook her head. It had to be now. She needed to reach the palace and see His Highness as soon as possible.

[If it’s Melissa, she’ll easily meet Prince Karl—I must go with her…]

Since everyone believed publicly that Melissa had saved Prince Karl, Whitney intended to go with her.

[Tell my sister I have somewhere important to go with her.]

“That’s difficult. Didn’t I just say? She’s not in her room, and she’s with a guest—how could I possibly disturb such precious time?”

Whitney bit her lip hard. The maid’s dismissive tone and expression were unmistakable. Since her father’s passing, no one in the Ducal Mansion of Orleans had been on her side. Quickly, Whitney scribbled a note.

[Rael, it’s urgent. It’s extremely important—please deliver this as soon as the guest leaves.]

“Can’t you see I’m busy? I’m taking this brief moment while Lady Melissa’s away to clean her room.”

[I won’t leave until you agree to deliver it.]

Faced with Whitney’s firm stance, Rael sighed deeply and reluctantly took the note. After eyeing Whitney with clear irritation, she said,

“I’ll deliver it, so please return to your room. Don’t go wandering around looking for Lady Melissa and causing trouble. You don’t even know how important this guest is.”

Whitney watched Rael’s retreating back, then gazed for a moment at Melissa’s closed door.

“An important guest? Now that I think of it, she did mention ‘precious time’ earlier…”

Many visitors came to see Melissa. Popular in high society, she was always at the center of attention. Whitney, on the other hand, could never approach people and remained on the fringes.

“Stop eyeing the people I care about. Do you want to endanger them like Father? That’s your problem—why must you always covet what’s mine?”

“They avoid you because they know getting close to you brings misfortune. It’s not that I’m stopping them—it’s that they dislike you! Can’t you notice and act accordingly? Why blame me for your own shortcomings? Poor Whitney. Just stay alone.”

It was all her fault.

If only she’d spoken up properly this time—if only she’d testified ‘no’ to the end—Prince Chester wouldn’t have died such a miserable death.

Following Rael’s advice, Whitney returned to her room to wait for Melissa.

The more she sat blankly, the more her anxiety grew. Suffocating, she opened the window and took a deep breath. Suddenly, two figures strolling through the garden caught her eye.

“…His Highness Karl?”

Their eyes met with overflowing affection. Karl gently stroked Melissa’s cheek and whispered something in her ear.

Melissa’s bright laughter drifted through the window to Whitney’s ears.

Every time Whitney saw Melissa smile, that day came rushing back. Like roses in full bloom in the garden, Melissa smiled beautifully.

“When did His Highness arrive? And if he’s here, why didn’t he look for me? More importantly, those two…”

She gripped the windowsill tightly, fixing her gaze on the pair. To any onlooker, they would seem like lovers deeply in love.

“No, it can’t be what I’m thinking. His Highness said he loves me, not Melissa. He even kissed me… So this must just be for appearances.”

Whitney’s heart prickled with pain. Gripped by an inexplicable unease, she couldn’t tear her eyes away from them.

As their laughter continued without pause, the two eventually faced each other. Karl stroked Melissa’s cheek, closed the distance between them, and kissed her.

Instinctively, Whitney understood—Karl’s kiss with her had held no real feeling.

Melissa’s hand naturally encircled Karl’s neck. The two shared a deep kiss before disappearing into the greenhouse. Whitney’s hands began to tremble violently.

“It can’t be… He wouldn’t deceive me.”

She lightly brushed her fingers over her own lips, then immediately dashed out of the room toward the greenhouse. She had to see it with her own eyes.

Her steps quickened as she neared the greenhouse. Her breath grew short, and fear mounted the closer she got. He was the only one who had ever reached out to her.

Finally reaching the back door of the greenhouse, she carefully grasped the handle and opened it.

Inside the beautiful greenhouse filled with blooming flowers, the silhouettes of the two figures appeared and disappeared among the foliage.

Whitney froze in place, halted by the sound of their breathless, giddy laughter.

“Your Highness, did you really kiss Whitney?”

“I had to, to get her to take the medicine. Thanks to you, Melissa, it was easy.”

“Hmm… But her voice won’t stay gone forever. Your Highness, that tickles!”

“I never leave loose ends. Now that Mother has found her smile again, it’s time to finish this. Only when I’m securely the heir can you become my consort.”

“Your Highness Karl… mm.”

Tears dropped from Whitney’s eyes, one after another. It had all been a plot to frame and kill Prince Chester. And she—she had merely been a pawn in their scheme.

She clamped her hand over her mouth. Her voice still wouldn’t come, and her heart burned with agony.

Shaking her head, she stumbled backward. As their heavy breathing filled the greenhouse, she covered her ears and tried to flee. Her breath caught in her throat—she only wanted to escape this place as fast as possible.

The entwined figures looked like monsters to her, and fear gripped her heart.

Her mind screamed one thought: she had to run before they saw her.