The Obsessive Male Lead Is Actually Scary - Chapter 5

Chapter 5 — Of Traitors and Truths

The fire crackled softly in the hearth, casting flickering shadows over the small, cozy space. Grandmama’s cottage was the kind of place that seemed older than the forest itself—every wooden beam whispering stories of storms and seasons past. I wrapped the rough wool blanket tighter around me, trying to ignore the way my mind kept replaying the scene from the woods. Guards—so close I could almost hear their breathing.

Alessio had posted himself near the door, back straight, one hand on the hilt of his sword. Grandmama, after grumbling about “bringing trouble to her doorstep,” was now in the corner, grinding herbs with the force of someone imagining the guards’ skulls instead of dried leaves.

I was still catching my breath when Alessio spoke up. “We can’t go back to Mellerfen. The patrols are thicker than I thought. Someone must have tipped Marius off.”

Grandmama snorted. “That snake has ears in every corner of the empire. He’s been creeping through the cracks since his father’s death.”

Something about the way she said it made my skin prickle. “His father’s death?” I asked.

Alessio nodded. “Duke Wittelsbach the First. Died suddenly a few years back—poison, they say, but no proof. Marius took over immediately, consolidating power faster than anyone could react. His father was well-respected. Marius… less so.”

“Less so?” I repeated, incredulous. “He’s practically running the place with an iron fist.”

Alessio gave a grim nod. “That’s the problem. The imperial family didn’t foresee how ruthless he’d be. He’s gained the loyalty of a handful of nobles—mainly through blackmail and fear. But his influence has grown too fast. My father—the Emperor—doesn’t trust him, but removing a duke without cause would mean civil unrest.”

“So your father’s just… waiting for Marius to mess up?”

“In a way. We’ve been gathering evidence against him, but Marius is careful. He eliminates witnesses before they can speak. That’s why you’re important, Sonia.”

“Me?” I squawked. “I’m important? I’m just trying not to die here!”

Alessio’s gaze softened. “You’re more than that. You’re the only person who’s been in his clutches and lived. If we can prove how he treats you—how he’s holding you against your will—it could be enough to challenge his position.”

I stared at him. “You’re saying I’m… bait.”

His jaw clenched. “Not just that. You’re a key witness. If we can expose Marius’s obsession with you, it could shake his influence. Nobles can’t support a man who’s proven to be violently possessive—especially when it comes to a lady of noble birth.”

Grandmama chimed in, her voice sharp. “That’s if you survive long enough to testify. Marius isn’t the type to leave loose ends.”

A shiver crawled down my spine. “I just wanted to not be chained to a bed. Now you’re telling me I’m part of a plot to take down a psychopathic duke?”

Alessio looked at me, his golden eyes earnest. “You’re not alone in this. I’ll protect you.”

My heart did a stupid flutter. “Right. Your royal bodyguard duties.”

Grandmama scoffed. “Romantic nonsense. The girl needs training. If she’s going to survive, she can’t just hide behind you, boy.”

“Training?” I squeaked.

The old woman shot me a withering look. “What good are you if you can’t run or throw a punch? You’ll get both of you killed.”

Alessio nodded slowly. “She’s right. You need to know how to defend yourself.”

“But I’m not exactly built for combat!” I protested.

Grandmama muttered something about “pampered lilies” and set down her mortar. “Tomorrow morning, I’ll start teaching you basic evasion techniques and knife throwing.”

I glanced at Alessio, but he didn’t look the least bit sorry. “It’s for your own safety.”

I huffed. “Fine. But if I accidentally stab myself, I’m blaming both of you.”

Grandmama just grunted, clearly unimpressed by my bravado.

—

That night, sleep came in fragments, punctuated by nightmares where Marius found me, his smile sharper than a blade. In the dim light of dawn, I woke to find Alessio still by the door, eyes half-closed but alert.

“You didn’t sleep,” I whispered.

He gave a small shrug. “Didn’t want to risk it.”

I hesitated, biting my lip. “You said your father—your family—is looking for proof of Marius’s crimes. Why hasn’t anyone tried harder to expose him?”

Alessio exhaled slowly. “It’s complicated. Marius’s influence reaches deep. Even among the imperial guards, there are those who owe him favors or fear his retaliation. My father can’t move against him without undeniable proof. The last thing we need is a power struggle between the dukedom and the throne.”

“Sounds like your family’s in a tight spot.”

He gave me a sideways glance, something wistful in his expression. “It’s not just politics. My father… he’s cautious. After my mother died, he became more guarded—especially about me. He knows what’s at stake. If Marius gets wind of my identity, it could put the entire succession at risk.”

My breath caught. “So that’s why you’re in hiding.”

He nodded. “Until the Descent ceremony, my identity remains a secret. Marius would use me as leverage—or worse—if he knew who I was.”

I bit my lip. “And you’re risking it all just to help me?”

Alessio’s gaze softened. “I couldn’t leave you there. Not with him. You deserved a chance to choose your own path.”

For a moment, his words hung between us, heavy and quiet. I wasn’t used to people saving me without ulterior motives.

Before I could respond, Grandmama stalked into the room, carrying a bundle. “Enough moon-eyed staring. Eat. Then we train.”

—

Later, outside the cottage, Grandmama shoved a small dagger into my hand. It was heavier than I expected, the blade wickedly sharp.

“Throwing isn’t just about strength,” she barked. “It’s about precision. Control your breathing. Keep your wrist loose. Aim for the center.”

I eyed the crude wooden target she’d set up—a tree stump with a ragged cloth tied to it. “I’ve never thrown anything sharper than a sewing needle.”

She raised a brow. “Think of it as stitching. Just… violently.”

I couldn’t help it—I laughed. Grandmama gave me a rare smirk.

After a few failed attempts, Alessio stepped closer. “Here,” he said, positioning himself behind me. His hands covered mine, guiding the motion. Heat flared at my cheeks.

“Loosen your grip,” he murmured, his breath tickling my ear. “Like this.”

I tried to focus on his instructions instead of how close he was. We threw the dagger together, and it hit the target—barely.

“See?” he said, stepping back. “You’re getting it.”

My heart was pounding, and I wasn’t sure if it was from the knife throwing or Alessio’s proximity. Grandmama cleared her throat loudly.

I pulled away, coughing. “Right. More practice.”

We trained until the sun dipped low, and though I was sore and exhausted, I felt something I hadn’t in a long time: hopeful.

As night fell, Alessio and I sat near the fire, Grandmama already asleep in her chair. I glanced at him, curious. “Do you ever regret helping me?”

He looked at me, a hint of a smile on his lips. “No. Not once.”

Something in my chest felt lighter. Maybe—just maybe—I wasn’t as alone in this as I thought.

To be continued