I'm possessing the Second Male Lead of a Romance Novel

The room was tense, filled with whispers and furtive glances as the palace staff gathered just outside Prince Aedric's chambers. Elliot stood among them, rubbing the sleep from his eyes and trying to focus on what the steward was saying.

"None of us can convince him," the steward said, his voice low but urgent. "He refuses to even come out of his room. His Highness has locked himself inside, and every attempt we've made to reason with him has only made things worse."

Elliot shifted uncomfortably. "Why are you telling me this?"

The steward gave him a pointed look. "Because he listens to you."

Elliot opened his mouth to argue, but the stern gazes of the assembled staff stopped him. They were clearly at their wit's end, and Elliot was rapidly realizing he didn't have much of a choice in the matter.

"He doesn't really listen to me," Elliot said weakly. "He just… tolerates me."

"That's more than he does for anyone else," the steward replied, crossing his arms. "Please, Elliot. We need you to get him to calm down before this escalates further. The Crown Prince must attend this meeting."

Elliot sighed, the weight of responsibility pressing down on his shoulders. He was exhausted, still reeling from the events of the previous day, but he knew refusing wasn't an option.

"All right," he said reluctantly. "I'll try."

The hallway outside Aedric's room was eerily quiet, save for the occasional muffled sound of something being thrown inside. Elliot hesitated, then knocked lightly on the door.

"Your Highness? It's me, Elias," he called out, keeping his tone calm and measured.

There was no response at first, but then a sharp thud echoed from the other side of the door, followed by Aedric's unmistakable voice.

"Go away! I don't want to see anyone!"

Elliot winced but didn't back down. "Your Highness, the staff is worried about you. They just want to help—"

"I said go away!" Aedric shouted, his voice cracking slightly.

Elliot took a deep breath, steeling himself. "Please, Your Highness. I'm coming in."

He pushed the door open slowly, half-expecting something to come flying at him the moment he stepped inside. The room was a mess—pillows and books scattered everywhere, the curtains drawn tightly to block out the sunlight. In the center of it all stood Aedric, his small frame shaking with frustration as he glared at Elliot.

"You're supposed to listen when I tell you to leave!" Aedric snapped, pointing an accusing finger at him.

Elliot kept his expression neutral as he closed the door behind him. "I'm sorry, Your Highness, but this is important. The staff said—"

"I don't care what they said!" Aedric interrupted, stomping his foot. "I don't want to meet anyone, and I won't! They can't make me!"

Elliot took a cautious step forward, his hands raised in a placating gesture. "Your Highness, I understand how you feel, but—"

"You don't understand!" Aedric yelled, his voice rising to a shrill pitch. In a flash of movement, he grabbed a tray from the nearby table and hurled it toward Elliot with all the strength his small body could muster.

Elliot barely had time to react before the tray struck him squarely on the side of his head. Pain exploded across his temple, and he stumbled back, his vision swimming. He raised a hand to the spot instinctively and felt something warm and wet—blood.

For a moment, the room was silent, save for Elliot's labored breathing. Aedric froze, his eyes wide as he took in the sight of the blood on Elliot's hand.

"Elias…" Aedric's voice was much quieter now, almost hesitant. "I didn't mean—"

Elliot took a shaky breath, forcing himself to stay calm despite the pain throbbing in his skull. "It's fine, Your Highness. It's just a scratch."

"It's not fine!" Aedric said, his voice cracking again. He looked genuinely distressed now, his earlier anger giving way to guilt.

Elliot offered a weak smile, hoping to ease the tension. "I'll be okay. But, Your Highness, this isn't helping anyone. The meeting—"

"I don't want to go to the meeting!" Aedric interrupted again, though his tone was less forceful now. His hands balled into fists at his sides, and he looked away, his lower lip trembling. "They're going to talk about my fiancé again. They're going to try to make me agree, and I don't want to. Why can't they just leave me alone?"

Elliot hesitated, his heart aching at the sight of the usually confident prince looking so vulnerable. He carefully knelt down to Aedric's level, ignoring the dizziness that threatened to overtake him.

"I know it's hard, Your Highness," he said gently. "But sometimes, we have to do things we don't want to for the sake of others. You're the Crown Prince, and everyone is looking to you to lead. Even if you don't agree with everything they say, showing up is important."

Aedric sniffled, still refusing to meet Elliot's gaze. "But I'm tired of everyone deciding things for me. I just want… I just want to decide something for myself for once."

Elliot nodded, his voice soft. "I understand. And maybe you can tell them that at the meeting. But if you don't go, they'll think you don't care about what they have to say. And I know that's not true."

For a long moment, Aedric didn't respond. Then, he let out a heavy sigh and nodded reluctantly.

"Fine," he said quietly. "I'll go. But only because you asked."

Elliot smiled despite the pain still throbbing in his head. "Thank you, Your Highness. That means a lot."

Aedric glanced at the blood still trickling down Elliot's temple and frowned. "You should… get that looked at."

"I will," Elliot assured him. "After I make sure you get to the meeting."

Aedric huffed but didn't argue, allowing Elliot to guide him out of the room. As they walked down the hall together, Elliot couldn't help but think that, for all his tantrums and stubbornness, Aedric was just a child trying to navigate the overwhelming expectations placed on him.

And despite everything, Elliot found himself silently vowing to be there for him—even if it meant taking a few hits along the way.

______

Elliot lay on his small, sparsely decorated bed, staring at the ceiling with a deep frown etched across his face. His head still throbbed from the injury, though the palace medic had already cleaned and bandaged it. The medic had been efficient, but curt, muttering something about reckless children before sending him on his way to rest.

Rest. That word sounded so luxurious to Elliot, yet it felt hollow at the same time. Sure, he was technically resting now, but his thoughts churned incessantly. He kept replaying the moment the tray struck him, the ache in his skull, and the guilt-stricken look on Prince Aedric's face.

"Why am I even here?" he muttered under his breath, his voice barely audible over the faint rustling of the curtains as a breeze drifted through the room. "Was this really worth it?"

A soft knock on the door startled him out of his thoughts. He quickly sat up, wincing as the movement sent a sharp pang through his head.

"Come in," he called out, trying to keep his voice steady.

The door creaked open, and Head Maid Sasha stepped inside, her sharp gaze immediately landing on him. Her expression softened just a touch when she noticed the bandage around his head, but her posture remained as straight and imposing as ever.

"Elias," she said, her tone firm but not unkind. "How are you feeling?"

Elliot forced a smile, though it didn't quite reach his eyes. "I'm fine, Head Maid Sasha. It's just a little bump. Nothing to worry about."

Sasha stepped closer, folding her hands neatly in front of her. She studied him for a moment, her piercing gaze making him feel as though she could see straight through his façade.

"You did well today," she said finally. "Convincing the prince to attend the meeting was no small feat. The staff are grateful for your efforts."

Elliot nodded, his smile still firmly in place. "I'm glad I could help."

But deep down, the words felt hollow. Grateful? For what? Taking a tray to the head and being pushed into a situation he hadn't asked for? He felt no sense of accomplishment—only a simmering frustration that he worked hard, got hurt, and still felt no closer to understanding why he was even in this world.

Sasha, however, didn't seem to notice his internal turmoil. "It's rare for someone so young to show such composure and dedication," she continued, her voice softening just a bit. "If you continue like this, I believe you could have a very fulfilling life here in the palace."

Elliot blinked, unsure how to respond. Fulfillment? The word sounded foreign to him, as if it didn't belong in the same realm as his current reality.

Sasha took a step closer, her expression unreadable. "And who knows?" she added. "If you keep excelling, perhaps you'll even earn a cure for your… situation."

Elliot's stomach twisted at her words. His "situation." He didn't know much about the body he now inhabited, but he'd pieced together enough to understand that this boy—this version of him—suffered from some kind of chronic illness. He'd overheard snippets of conversations among the staff, whispers about how he was "frail" and "delicate."

He kept his expression carefully neutral, nodding politely. "Thank you, Head Maid Sasha. I'll do my best."

Sasha gave a small nod of approval, seemingly satisfied with his response. "Good. You're dismissed for now. Rest well, Elias."

With that, she turned and left the room, the door clicking shut behind her.

As soon as she was gone, Elliot's forced smile dropped, replaced by a grimace. He flopped back onto the bed, staring at the ceiling once more.

"A fulfilling life?" he muttered bitterly. "Getting trays thrown at my head and running around after a spoiled prince? Sure, sounds like a dream come true."

He exhaled heavily, running a hand over his face. Despite his frustration, he knew he couldn't afford to show it. Not here, not now. Complaining wouldn't change anything.

And yet, as he lay there in the quiet of his room, the weight of his situation pressed down on him more heavily than ever. He didn't know if he could ever find the "fulfillment" Sasha had spoken of—or if he even wanted to try.

___

From this point on, I'll call Elliot as Elias. It is easier on my brain