The Villainous Male Supporting Character Courts Death Every Day : Chapter 42

In the Royal Equestrian Grounds, horses galloped and leaped, the sound of hooves and horns interweaving. The stands were packed with people, colorful flags stood in great numbers, and the banners of the great families snapped in the wind. Armor reflected dazzling light, and the air mixed with sweat and wine, making the heated atmosphere even more boisterous.

The young duke, who had been absent from social circles for a long time, caused a stir the moment he arrived. Gentlemen hurried to their feet to exchange greetings, ladies raised their fans, their eyes and brows smiling, as if the entire grounds had brightened with a layer of light because of his coming.

As for why the young duke had disappeared for so long, everyone knew in their hearts, but this was after all a noble circle, and everyone kept up the pretense. The more quick-witted ones eagerly made excuses for him: “The young master has been in seclusion to cultivate himself, diligently studying in private this is the true style of nobility.”

As soon as the words fell, the surrounding crowd immediately echoed in agreement. Milo didn’t even need to open his mouth before countless pretty words covered for him. That quick-witted one went even further, his voice rising: “Like the moon hiding then shining again, its light even brighter. The finest young talent of our age is no more than this. It is our great honor to share the same grounds as the young master.”

The man spoke with extreme flattery and enthusiasm, gradually turning into outright praise, as if Milo were some paragon of humanity, lifting him straight up to the clouds. With the crowd egging him on, voices of praise rose and fell one after another, the scene growing so lively it was almost absurd.

Kyle stood behind Milo, his arm subtly separating the pushing crowd, while also blocking several glasses of wine passed over from who-knew-where. He brought over a glass of juice and said in a low voice, “Young master.”

Milo took it, sipping while admiring that exaggerated flatterer, his gaze carrying playful amusement. He took the chance to ask, “Who is that?”

“Jossander, son of the diplomat Sir Jeffrey,” Kyle whispered close to his ear, his voice still calm and clear even in the noise.

“Oh…” Milo thought for a moment, puzzled: “Who?”

“Nobody,” Kyle smiled, a flash of brightness passing through his dark eyes. “He used to be a writer. Recently his poetry was banned for blaspheming divine authority, and he’s still tangled up in a lawsuit.”

“That’s not something I can handle either,” Milo clicked his tongue, watching Jossander still praising the young duke in the crowd, his gaze showing a bit of pity, like he was looking at a fool. “Not very sharp eyes, is he? He can even pick the wrong person?”

“The young master speaks truly,” Kyle reached out to adjust his master’s collar, his tone gentle. “Your seat is ready, please move to the stands.”

Milo nodded, and under Kyle’s guidance circled around the crowd, ascending to the highest seat in the stands. The view was open, with curtains all around providing cover, taking in the sky, light, grass, and field all at once.

This equestrian cross-country race was hosted by the royal family, and all the great families had sent knights to participate. But compared to competitive entertainment, it was more a show of boasting and comparison between nobles. The knights and horses on the field were dressed more and more fancily, and their competitive moves were as exaggerated as a dance.

Milo had seen it all before, his eyes sleepy with drowsiness. Before long he yawned out of boredom.

Kyle brought a cushion to pad behind the young master, and ordered someone to adjust the curtains to block the glaring sunlight. A warm breeze blew gently, and the noise gradually turned into white noise that helped one sleep. Milo leaned back comfortably, his eyelids heavy, and before long he actually dozed off.

In a daze, he felt Kyle take his hand and call softly, “Young master, Prince Lucian has arrived.”

Milo’s eyes half-opened, looking out over the grounds. He saw a platinum figure amidst a crowd of attendants taking the chief seat in the stands. Milo rubbed his eyes, his head tilting to one side, about to fall asleep again.

Kyle took out a handkerchief and wiped Milo’s face, then tidied his hair for him, whispering, “Young master, just say hello and be done with it. You’ll sleep more soundly in the carriage later.”

“What do you mean just say hello, I have plenty to say…” Milo muttered in a dreamlike complaint, but his body went soft, directly pillowing his head on Kyle’s shoulder, too lazy to sit straight anymore. “Call me when it’s the finals…”

Dark eyes lowered, carefully adjusting his position to let the young master sleep more comfortably. Fingertips brushed across the boy’s forehead bangs, traced past the corner of his eye. His eyelashes trembled slightly, but he did not wake.

Outside, drums shook the heavens and the crowd clamored. Behind the curtains of the high platform, it was like a quiet corner of the sky, where only the breathing of two people echoed back and forth.

~~~~~~

Hooves sounded, drums shook the heavens, and on the finals field the crowd was nearly boiling over. The prince sat in dignified ease, surrounded by rows of attendants. His gaze swept across and immediately caught the golden figure wandering through the crowd, drawing closer.

Lucian’s eyes moved, pretending not to see, but Milo walked closer and closer. When he was a few steps away, he stopped and bowed: “Your Highness, I trust you have been well since we last met.”

Sure enough, once his reputation was restored, even he had to come over and show goodwill. The prince raised his eyes, the corner of his mouth curving slightly, and smiled: “Isn’t this Milo?”

The prince leaned back, both elbows resting on the armrests, fingers interlaced before his chest. His smile carried a bit of reserve, but his tone held hidden self-satisfaction: “Long time no see, finally remembered to catch up with me?”

“Isn’t that right?” Milo walked up with a completely casual face. The prince’s gorgeously dressed attendant rose alertly, and Milo also sat right down without any ceremony, as naturally as if he were in his own home. He looked up at the race grounds: “How have you been lately?”

The prince’s platinum eyes glanced imperceptibly at Kyle behind Milo. Lucian’s smile was half a smile, somewhat playful: “Thanks to you, everything goes smoothly. I just didn’t expect you to have an interest in equestrian sports…”

“Your Highness, look!” Before the prince finished speaking, Milo suddenly grabbed his hand, pointing at the snow-white horse galloping on the field: “That one with the bright coat, doesn’t it look like your old ‘Luna’?”

Milo seemed to recall something, his eyes smiling into slits: “You held it and kept telling me to pet it, but who knew it would kick you over with one hoof. You were so mad you said you’d roast it and eat it.”

The moment the words fell, the air froze for an instant. Lucian’s expression didn’t change, but his fingers tightened slightly, gripping his gloves.

But Milo was still smiling, completely unconcerned: “Right, we haven’t gone out to play together in a long time either. How about we go out for a walk some other day?”

The prince quietly exhaled, smiling without it reaching his eyes as he signaled to his attendant: “What is my schedule like recently?”

The gorgeously dressed attendant bent down to reply: “Completely full, Your Highness.”

Before Lucian could open his mouth, Milo directly called out: “Completely full? How is that possible? Could it be you’re busy with that plan?” Milo leaned in close, mysteriously covering his lips to whisper: “You should know, that won’t amount to anything, right?”

Lucian’s eyes darkened, his gloves pulled taut, his voice suddenly cold: “What did you say?”

“Using the Empire’s money to do charity? Shelters? Orphanages? The Goddess Osei?” Milo made exaggerated faces. He had crammed newspapers to catch up, and thinking about how a perfectly good rich young lady was sent off to the desolate snow, his teasing tone now carried a bit more of the weight of someone speaking from experience and the confidence of being in the right: “You don’t really think those things will make the nobles support you, do you?”

The prince fell silent, his platinum eyes like light breaking through clouds, coldly piercing, as if trying to see right through him. Suddenly, Lucian laughed softly, his voice extremely light but carrying heavy chill: “I understand, Milo.”

Lucian straightened his sleeves, his movements elegant and unhurried, his gaze nailed firmly to Milo’s face, each word like frost: “You got close to me to exchange for being let out of house arrest from the Duke, right?”

Milo froze, his lips moving as if wanting to argue, but nothing came out.

Seeing this, Lucian grew even more furious to the point of laughing, his smile almost twisted, squeezing out his words in a suppressed hiss: “But clearly, you haven’t even learned how to suck up yet.” Saying this, he rose to leave.

“Hey! Wait!” Milo hurriedly got up to block him, his palm pressing against the prince’s arm, his fingertips curling uneasily. He leaned close to his ear to whisper: “I’ll tell you a secret, just you.”

Warm breath brushed past his ear. Lucian’s lips pressed together slightly, the muscles in his arm tense, but he did not pull away.

Milo turned his head to look at Kyle. Kyle’s eyes were lowered, unmoving, until the young master glared at him fiercely. Only then did he bow respectfully and retreat to a distance.

Lucian was silent for a moment, feeling the gazes coming from all around the grounds. He had no choice but to sit down again, raising his hand to signal his attendants to disperse, his voice cold: “Speak quickly, what is it? I’m in a hurry.”

Aren’t you just here to present the awards? The champion hasn’t even come out yet, where are you rushing off to? Milo secretly rolled his eyes, not calling him out on it. He lowered his voice: “I’m leaving soon.”

“Leaving?” Lucian was slightly surprised, but suddenly remembered that Milo too had reached the age to go to the battlefield for some glory. He said hoarsely: “To the battlefield?”

“No, how could that be…”

Lucian’s brows loosened slightly, but then immediately furrowed again: “Then abroad?”

“It’s not going abroad, I’m…”

“Where? When?”

“The time isn’t certain yet, and it’s not going abroad, can you stop interrupting.” Milo thought hard, trying to explain: “Strictly speaking, it’s returning to my original place. But that’s not the point, the point is…”

“What original place? The Ocent territory?”

“That’s not it!” Milo was so exasperated he almost wanted to strangle him. “Lucian, stop interrupting!”

Lucian was equally displeased, raising an eyebrow: “Then speak quickly.”

Milo took a deep breath, forcefully suppressing his anger, and said: “I’m leaving…”

“You just said that.”

“Lucian!” Milo’s voice dropped in barely contained fury. Lucian was also impatient, his face rarely looking this bad, his finger drawing circles in the air nonstop to signal him to speed up.

“I’m leaving, when is still uncertain, no one knows, and I don’t plan to tell anyone.” He finished in one breath like a runaway train, then let out a breath, his brows relaxing into a smile. The smile was bright, carrying a rare sincerity: “But Lucian, I’m only telling you, and I’m willing to say goodbye to you.”

Lucian looked at him suspiciously. Milo returned a look of doing him a favor, but his golden eyes shone bright, sparkling with unhidden genuine hope: “I was thinking, if we could go one more time, hunting or swimming or something, it would definitely be fun.”

Lucian’s expression faltered, as if moved, but then he heard Milo say: “Do you still remember? Once you almost flew out of the water, leaping so high, and then a fish fell out of your pants.”

“Mi—lo!” Lucian’s voice was pressed extremely low, trembling, his gloves gripped so tight they were almost splitting.