That's Life:
Lysander stood up, his eyes expressing gratitude. "I'll be taking my leave now. Thank you for your hospitality," he said, his voice soft but resolute.
Marquis Wetherby's unexpected sympathy left Lysander speechless. The sudden change in attitude caught him off guard, and he struggled to find the right words to respond. The Marquis seemed to empathize with Lysander's situation, a sentiment that had arrived unexpectedly and belatedly.
As Lysander rose to leave, a subtle stumble revealed the toll his weakened state had taken. The others in the room instinctively moved to assist, but Lysander managed to steady himself. He offered a gracious bow, and with a barely noticeable frown, he turned his gaze toward the night sky visible through the window.
Determined to depart, Lysander walked towards the room's exit. However, before he could step through the doorway, a powerful hand gripped his arm, preventing his departure.
Lysander looked back at the hand before looking at Lord Smythe with a raised eyebrow. Lord Smythe looked at Eric deeply before asking in a low soft voice,
"Don't you... Love that house and family title of yours very much? You have worked so hard for it's sake. Why are you suddenly giving it up so easily?"
Lysander frowned deeply. He frowned even further when Lord Wetherby too came into his view, looking over at him with some worry. These two had played major roles in one timeline or another to ruin him.
True, it was their duty as people under the Emperor but they never even checked to know the truths from the lies, the fact that he had never betrayed the Emperor at all but was convicted by the female lead on accounts the time line she had come from.
He once though that maybe his ends were as bad as they were because he did not really like the female lead or was never a part of her harem. Many people he knew that openly hated the female lead did not have good consequences whether it was from a small public humiliation to untimely death.
In the dimly lit room, Lysander pondered the paradoxical nature of his predicament. Lord Smythe and Lord Wetherby gazed at him, their expressions a blend of curiosity and indiscernible emotions.
"Why are you giving up on the house and family title so easily?" inquired Lord Smythe, his voice low and soft.
Lysander frowned, revisiting the intricate dynamics of this world, or any Mary-Sue world and novels actually. Those who disliked the female lead typically faced dire consequences, while those with neutral feelings or admiration experienced less severe outcomes.
He attempted once to feign affection for the Mary Sue-like female lead, hoping it might alter his fate. However, he soon realized that only genuine, self-sacrificing love from someone like him had the potential to change his ominous narrative.
The room lingered in silence, the weight of his repeated deaths palpable in the air.
In all the previous timelines, Lord Wetherby and Lord Smythe, influenced by the female lead's deceptive charm, fell for her manipulations. In a short span, she skilfully created an illusion of trust, strengthened by intimate encounters that strangely bound them to her every word and action.
Lysander refrained from blaming them completely, acknowledging their misconceptions and the suspicions that naturally arose from his role. However, any positive feelings toward them had faded over time, replaced by a growing indifference. The intricate web of relationships ceased to matter for him.
Despite the unexpected sympathy and words from Lord Smythe and Lord Wetherby, Lysander retained a sense of irritation. He frowned momentarily before regaining composure, gently freeing his arm from the grip. With an air of indifference, he spoke in a calm but detached manner, "There are some things in this world, no matter how hard you try, you can never have. That's life. I have learned that the hard way. That's all."
Lysander straightened his sleeves before fixing his gaze on them, wearing a calm expression.
"I will definitely repay your kindness," he began, but was abruptly interrupted by Lord Smythe.
"Will you stop it already," Lord Smythe said, running his hand through his hair in a slightly irritated manner.