I Accidentally Saved The Male Lead’s Brother Chapter 149

 

“How did you… No, it doesn’t matter. I’ll talk.”

Viscount Lister, trembling with fear, began to confess everything he knew. His head hung low as if unable to meet Carcel’s intense gaze.

“It wasn’t me who cast the hypnosis spell on His Majesty. It was Lionel Wisner, so I don’t know the exact details. But…”

He trailed off, his voice faltering as if something was catching in his throat.

Carcel, sensing the foreboding atmosphere, pressed him further.

“But what?”

At that moment, Lister suddenly coughed violently and spat out a dark red stream of blood.

The stone floor beneath him was stained crimson almost instantly, a grotesque pool forming rapidly.

Lister’s face turned deathly pale, and his chained limbs began to tremble uncontrollably.

“Morris!”

Carcel shouted, instinctively calling for Morris instead of a physician. He had a gut feeling this was no ordinary illness but a result of magic.

By the time Morris arrived, sprinting into the cell, Lister was already convulsing violently, blood pouring from his mouth. The scene was grim—Lister’s body and even Carcel’s clothing were drenched in red.

“What’s happening, my lord?!”

Morris froze at the sight, his face momentarily drained of color. Then he rushed to Lister, inspecting him closely.

“Is this magic?”

“I need to investigate further to confirm,” Morris replied, shaking Lister’s shoulder to get his attention.

“Viscount Lister, can you hear me?”

But Lister didn’t seem to register anything. His eyes rolled back, revealing only the whites, and foamy red bubbles began to form at his lips.

“Damn it…”

Morris cursed under his breath and immediately cast a healing spell.

The glowing energy enveloped Lister, but it was of no use. His convulsions only grew worse.

“Be… careful…”

Even amidst the spasms, Lister muttered weakly, his voice barely audible.

Carcel leaned in close, straining to hear.

“Careful… don’t give up…”

“…”

“Dangerous…”

His fragmented words hung in the air before his body finally went limp.

Carcel pressed his fingers against Lister’s neck, searching for a pulse. There was none.

He stared down at the lifeless body for a moment, his expression unreadable, before rising to his feet.

Morris, who had also checked for signs of life, lowered his head.

“My apologies, my lord.”

“…”

“It must have been a magic spell cast by Lionel Wisner. I should have detected it earlier. This is my fault.”

Morris, awaiting punishment, stood tense. But Carcel was too consumed by his own thoughts to pay him any mind.

He gazed silently at Lister’s body, anger simmering beneath his composed exterior—not at Morris, but at himself.

Ever since the New Year’s Ball, it felt as though Lionel Wisner had been pulling the strings, manipulating events from the shadows.

Carcel let out a heavy sigh and patted Morris’s shoulder once before leaving the cell without another word.

***

Upon returning to the mansion, Carcel immediately changed out of his bloodstained clothes.

The last thing he wanted was for Charlotte or Theo to see him in such a state and become alarmed. He always wanted to present his best self to them.

After ensuring his appearance was immaculate, he headed toward Theo’s room to find Charlotte.

From the slightly ajar door, he could hear her gentle voice reading a story.

“Hearing the fierce wind right next to him, baby bunny Toto huddled up and shivered.”

It was Theo’s favorite story about Toto the baby bunny. Theo’s sleepy voice joined in, slurring slightly.

“I’m not scared. I’m not a baby bunny anymore…”

Thanks to Charlotte’s repeated storytelling, Theo had memorized the lines.

Charlotte chuckled softly at his drowsy response, a sound so pleasant it warmed the heart.

Carcel found himself smiling as he quietly entered the room. Neither Charlotte nor Theo noticed his presence, too engrossed in the story.

“Toto mumbled to himself as he hopped along. But then, suddenly! The sound of a wolf howling echoed nearby.”

“Awooo!”

Theo, lying on the bed with half-closed eyes, mimicked the wolf’s howl before bursting into giggles.

Charlotte, holding the storybook in one hand and gently patting Theo’s belly with the other, laughed along with him, unable to continue the story.

Golden afternoon sunlight streamed through the partially drawn curtains, bathing Theo’s face and Charlotte’s hair in its warm glow.

It was a serene and heartwarming scene—the kind of moment Carcel deeply cherished and wished to protect forever.

He stood watching them for a while, reluctant to disrupt their peaceful atmosphere.

Eventually, he turned and left quietly, resolving to let them enjoy their moment undisturbed.

Though his heart longed to join them, he knew there were pressing matters that required his attention.

****

Carcel made his way to the guest room where Teresa was staying. As if anticipating his arrival, she was already prepared to leave.

Seated on the terrace, she rose to her feet when she saw him approach.

“Did everything go well?”

“…”

Carcel’s silence was enough for her to piece together the outcome. She chose not to press further, instead shifting the conversation.

“Are you heading to the capital now?”

“Yes.”

“Will Lady Lannia be accompanying you?”

“No. It will be just you and me.”

“That’s probably for the best.”

Teresa nodded in agreement and stepped to his side.

Carcel escorted her out, and together they boarded the carriage bound for the imperial palace.

***

The carriage ride was quiet, with neither speaking.

Carcel gazed out the window, his mind preoccupied with Lister’s final words.

Careful… don’t give up… dangerous…

What could Lionel Wisner’s next move be, now that his plan to provoke Carcel into losing control had failed?

One thought nagged at him relentlessly: the upcoming engagement ceremony.

It was the perfect opportunity for Lionel to strike—a gathering where Carcel, Charlotte, and Theo would all be present.

He needed to discuss this with Charlotte soon.

“Engagement ceremony…” Carcel muttered.

“Pardon?”

Teresa, engrossed in her holy scripture, looked up at his words, but Carcel didn’t respond. He was too lost in thought.

Finally, he turned to Teresa and asked a question that had been weighing on his mind.

“Why are you helping us?”

Caught off guard, Teresa seemed surprised for a moment before covering her mouth with her hand and laughing softly.

“Why indeed?”

Carcel studied her, trying to decipher her true intentions.

She was the High Priestess, a figure of immense importance. It was hard to believe she had any ulterior motives.

But why was she so invested in helping Charlotte?

“Let’s just say I care deeply for Lady Lannia.”

Her answer didn’t quite satisfy him, but before he could press further, the carriage came to a halt.

The driver announced their arrival at the imperial palace.

Carcel stepped out, helping Teresa disembark.

He was certain the Emperor would refuse their audience, or worse, react with hostility. Lionel’s spell was likely still intact.

Yet to his surprise, not only was their audience granted, but the steward who greeted them treated them with utmost courtesy.

Still, Carcel couldn’t shake the unease creeping over him.

The usually bustling palace halls were eerily silent, devoid of the usual courtiers, stewards, and guards.

“Are you sure His Majesty is expecting us?” Carcel asked the steward leading them.

The man hesitated for a fraction of a second before answering.

“Yes, of course. His Majesty awaits you. Please, this way.”

Though Carcel’s instincts screamed that something was wrong, he followed the steward into the throne room.

At the far end of the vast chamber, the Emperor sat upon his throne, his face a mask of stern authority.

But what caught Carcel’s attention was the unusually large number of guards lining the walls—far more than usual.

Grinding his teeth, Carcel bowed low before the Emperor.

“Carcel Heinst greets the Sun of the Empire.”