The Male Leads Are Trapped in My House

After Cherry explained Ethan’s funeral plan, the meeting concluded.

Theodore stood by the window of his assigned second-floor room, quietly gazing outside.
The night was dark and silent, with everyone sound asleep. The rain grew heavier, and the dense fog severely reduced visibility.
“We’ll need to speed up the work on clearing the underground passage.”

He silently contemplated the fake funeral for Ethan scheduled for tomorrow and the subsequent plans.
Immediately after the funeral, Captain Nikolai, Vanilla, and Jose were set to form a team and begin clearing the path.
“Who could have created that underground passage? Was it Lloyd?”

But if Lloyd had known about the underground passage, he would have already seized and controlled the mansion at 61 Notium Street.
“What’s certain is that Cherry Sinclair is far more capable than I initially thought.”
She was quick to assess situations and adept at commanding the residents of the mansion. Above all else...

Theodore recalled the suggestions Cherry Sinclair had made.
Kellyan Bangor was being held in this mansion, and she planned to use him to gather information about Westmore.
"The operation will begin tomorrow morning. We’ll need some preparations today. Your Highness, please make a decisive entrance at the critical moment."

“She seems to be hiding something.”
He suspected that the information Cherry held far exceeded what he knew.
Theodore still didn’t have a complete understanding of who Cherry Sinclair truly was.

However, he had revised his assessment of her.
Winning her over to his side was clearly the smarter move. Losing such a talent to Prince Lloyd’s faction was out of the question.
While questions remained—why Ethan and Nox were so loyal to Cherry, why this mansion had so many peculiarities—those were secondary curiosities.

The bottom line was that Ethan and Nox, trustworthy individuals, followed Cherry, who herself possessed remarkable insight and extraordinary strength.
If he could secure Cherry, Ethan, Nox, and even Harrison would naturally align with him.
Understanding the situation could come after ensuring her allegiance.
“I can’t sleep.”

The night was filled with too many thoughts, making it hard to fall asleep.
Theodore lit the candle in the lantern by his bedside, then picked it up and stood.
The guards in the salon took turns standing watch at night. At this hour, Nikolai was likely awake.

It was 1 a.m. Theodore checked the time and left his room, intending to discuss post-return plans to the capital with Nikolai.
As he stepped into the hallway, he glanced toward the firmly shut door at the end.
"Kellyan Bangor is confined to the room at the end of the second floor."

Even if he wanted to enter, he wouldn’t be able to meet Kellyan alone without the key Cherry possessed.
Clink.
At that moment, a faint noise reached his ears, coming from the first floor.

He slowly descended the stairs toward the source of the sound. A sign hung inside the lobby, near the front door:
Cherry’s Temporary Shelter: Happy House.
It seemed this sign had originally hung outside the front door.

"Cherry’s Happy House, huh…"
The name still made him stifle a laugh. It was absurdly childish, yet it suited her just as much as her nickname, “Sugar Star.”
He raised the lantern toward the direction of the salon, spotting the firmly shut doors at the end of the corridor.

Just as he was about to head that way—
Clink.
The same sound came from behind him. He turned instinctively toward the direction of the noise, which seemed to come from the banquet hall’s kitchen.

It was likely one of Happy House’s residents. But what could someone be doing in the dark at this late hour?
Theodore walked slowly toward the banquet hall and scanned the dark kitchen beyond. The kitchen, too, was shrouded in darkness.
He lifted the lantern, its light cutting through the shadows. Over the counter, he spotted the faint outline of a crouched figure.

“Who’s there?”
“Ah!”
The flickering light revealed not one but two figures.

Theodore stared, slightly startled, at the pair huddled in the dark kitchen: Cherry and Ethan.
*****
Ethan couldn’t sleep.

Eventually giving up on trying, he left his bed and sat at his desk.
On it lay a will he had been drafting at Cherry’s request. Each word seemed painstakingly written, evidence of his inner turmoil.
Taking out the fountain pen Cherry had gifted him, along with a fresh sheet of paper, he finalized the will with elegant handwriting.

This time, it was immaculate. Staring quietly at the paper in his hand, he let out a faint chuckle and capped the pen.
Placing it atop the will, Ethan stood. Since sleep eluded him, he thought a cup of tea might help.
Clink.

A noise came from the kitchen. It wasn’t likely to be a stray cat or an intruder—it must be one of the Happy House residents.
Ethan stepped into the kitchen and found Cherry crouched by the counter, sipping something.
“Ah!”

Startled, she gasped, but Ethan quickly placed a hand over her mouth.
“Shh. It’s late, so let’s not make a fuss.”
Cherry, wide-eyed, nodded silently at his whisper. A faint smell of alcohol lingered in the air.

Ethan raised an eyebrow, glancing down. A jar of cherry-infused liquor sat on the counter, along with an empty glass.
“And where did this come from?”
“I, um, secretly brought it from the capital. Don’t tell ✧ NоvеIight ✧ (Original source) Harrison; it’ll be a headache if he finds out.”

Cherry Sinclair wasn’t known for her alcohol tolerance, but she mumbled as if talking to herself.
“Cherry Sinclair, huh?”
It was as though she referred to herself as someone else.

“And why are you drinking this late at night?”
“I couldn’t sleep. Just three glasses, and then I’ll go to bed.”
Ethan let out a dry chuckle.

"Would you like a drink?"
"I don’t drink."
"Ugh, Harrison doesn’t drink either. Why does everyone avoid such a good thing?"

"…Have you even had alcohol before?"
"Of course. Do you know how old I am? If you count my past life, I’ve lived a long time. So old, so old…"
Cherry muttered her complaints, letting out long sighs. For a moment, Ethan thought she might be drunk, but her clear eyes told a different story.

As she claimed, Ethan often forgot her age. Cherry sometimes appeared youthful, yet her actions carried a wisdom beyond her years.
At times, she was simply an enigma, like now, sitting alone and drinking in the kitchen.
"We’re preparing for your funeral tomorrow, Sir Ethan," she said suddenly, pouring another glass of cherry-infused liquor.

"And I found myself thinking… how long must we live like this, fighting so fiercely? I just want to return to a normal life."
"If Ludfisher creates a cure, we’ll return to normal life soon enough."
Cherry responded to Ethan’s words with a hollow laugh.

To be honest, Ethan was taken aback. This was the first time he’d seen this expression on her face since they met.
Perhaps noticing his reaction, Cherry shook her head with a faint smile.
"Don’t worry. It’s tough, but I won’t give up. We’ll get through your funeral tomorrow without a hitch."

She murmured as she brought the glass to her lips. Before she could drink, Ethan snatched it away and downed it himself.
Cherry stared at him, startled. Ethan wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and replied:
"If I didn’t have immunity to the virus, tomorrow’s funeral would’ve been real."

Her gaze softened as her eyes drifted to his wrist, still wrapped in bandages. His body was riddled with unhealed wounds, scars earned from shielding her from monsters.
"…I know. That’s why, Sir, don’t sacrifice yourself. I don’t want it to become real."
Ethan looked at her silently, the lantern’s faint light illuminating her face in the surrounding darkness.

Her words created ripples in his heart, just as they always did.
Ethan knew that Cherry didn’t feel the same way about him.
He suspected that her willingness to die for him stemmed from knowing about his immunity.

But that was fine. It was enough for him.
Cherry poured herself another glass of liquor. Ethan grabbed an empty glass from the cupboard and sat beside her.
"What’s this? I thought you didn’t drink."

She pouted, her lower lip jutting out in complaint. Ethan, his gaze lingering on her flushed lips, replied without thinking:
"It’s lonely drinking alone."
"I’m not lonely."

"I just want to keep you company."
Ethan’s blunt honesty made Cherry’s eyes widen in surprise.
"Who’s there?"

At that moment, Theodore entered the kitchen.
*****
It was slightly bewildering.

I’m not drunk. Not at all. One glass of cherry-infused liquor isn’t enough to get me drunk… right?
Here we were, sitting on the kitchen floor around a lantern: Ethan, Theodore, and me.
How on earth had I ended up sharing drinks with the Crown Prince of the kingdom on a kitchen floor?

Theodore sipped from his glass, furrowing his brow.
"Who made this cherry liquor? It’s very sweet. I don’t usually like sweet drinks."
"My late mother made it. She enjoyed brewing infused liquor as a hobby."

"Sweet drinks can be nice sometimes. The cherry aroma is excellent."
Quickly changing his tune, Theodore smiled. I chuckled, pouring another round into his empty glass, then into mine and Ethan’s.
Noblewomen typically didn’t make infused liquors, but my mother had loved brewing.

She used to say that since she wasn’t a true noble, there was no need to live as rigidly as one. Back then, I hated that about her.
"It’s my first time sharing a drink with a lady like this. It reminds me of old times."
Theodore murmured, staring at his half-empty glass.

"Indeed. I recall Your Highness sneaking alcohol into the royal academy during your school days."
Ethan chuckled, taking a sip of his drink.