For the Young Villain’s Happy Ending - Chapter 39

—————
This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
—————

Chapter 39

“You bear a striking resemblance to your mother.”

Cheinols spoke to Kevenriak Heteroven, who sat in a chair beside the bed.

“…”

The Fourth Prince, whom I was seeing up close for the first time, was the very image of the mother who had borne him.

Those blue eyes above the veil that had once captivated the Emperor so long ago.
The dancer from the Traveling Troupe had been breathtaking. She moved with elegant grace to the melodies played by a refined woman of her age, and whenever their eyes met, the affection between the two women was unmistakable.
As Cheinols watched that tender exchange, he found himself ensnared by the dancer’s blue eyes.
Desiring to see those eyes turn toward him, Cheinols spent that night with the dancer.

“She is my sister.”

When the Emperor asked who the musician was, the dancer answered.
The shy smile she wore revealed how deeply she cherished her sister.
In that moment, an uncontrollable jealousy surged within him.
Cheinols took the dancer into his harem, and she was separated from her sister.
Though it had been but a single night, the dancer conceived the Emperor’s child. Thus, he granted her the title of Second Empress Consort.
And then he forgot.

“She died in childbirth.”

The report arrived. Not long after, a woman claiming to be her sister requested an audience, asking for the body to be returned.
The jealousy that had once burned so fiercely, the heat of that night—all of it had grown cold and distant. Too indifferent to refuse, he simply told her to take it.
He could not clearly recall the sister’s face, but a mole near her eye remained etched in his memory.

‘Is it because I’ve narrowly escaped death? All these old memories are surfacing now.’

Cheinols let out a derisive laugh at the fleeting memories that arose unbidden.
His attention returned to his conversation with the Fourth Prince.

“I hear you’ve become a sixth-circle mage.”

Kevenriak nodded at my question.
He seemed to be a man of few words. That was better, actually.

“Even as a Grand Mage’s disciple, it’s a realm difficult to achieve at that age.”

Nineteen this year, or was it twenty-two?
I only knew he had come of age. Either way, it didn’t matter. Cheinols decided not to speculate further on the Fourth Prince’s age.

“Since I have no talent for magic, it seems you inherited your gift from your mother.”
“…Does my blood possess magical talent?”
“The Empress Consort was one who wielded magic. The magic your mother displayed was truly beautiful.”
“Yet you did not cherish it.”

Kevenriak posed the question to the Emperor.
He could not comprehend how the Emperor could call it beautiful while harboring no love for the Empress Consort.

“Do you resent me?”

Cheinols, interpreting this as an accusation directed at himself, asked the question.
Do you resent me—for being indifferent to your mother and to you?
He did not consider himself an irresponsible father. Was that not the nature of an Emperor’s station? One cannot attend to every matter.
So I harbor no regrets.
What concerns me is where the Fourth Prince’s blade is directed. If it could be turned toward me…

‘It must be broken.’

Allowing a threatening blade to persist was a luxury afforded only by Raina Hart.
Kevenriak’s composed blue eyes gazed upon the Emperor.

‘Take the crown, Kevenriak. With that power, you would…’

The voice in his mind grew faint.
Kevenriak answered the Emperor.

“No.”

Rather, I am grateful.
Because you abandoned me.

“I hold no resentment.”

My master picked me up, after all.

“….”

The Emperor smiled, satisfied that he had received the answer he sought from Kevenriak’s resolute words.
He turned to his own son.

“Will you become Crown Prince?”

***

As Kevenriak emerged from the chamber, Person rushed forward to greet him.

“Fourth Prince, did your conversation with His Majesty go well?”

Person had been waiting near the door the entire time, anxious about the Emperor and Fourth Prince being alone together.
Kevenriak nodded, then glanced around the surroundings.
Knights in white uniforms, high priests, and the Imperial Prince lying in bed.
The one person Kevenriak sought was nowhere to be seen.

“Where is my master?”
“Raina Hart went outside. She said she wanted to look around, though it seemed she wanted some fresh air.”

Seemed—that was Person’s own interpretation.
Kevenriak’s gaze settled upon him quietly, as if seeking clarification.
Though it had been years ago, they had spent four years together when Fourth Prince was young. Person understood what that look meant.

“That is—”

He hesitated in his response.
Because Raina Hart, when she had emerged from the chamber moments ago, appeared quite angry.
It was the first time he had ever seen her wear such an expression.

‘If I said she went to cool her anger, the Fourth Prince would surely worry greatly.’

Instead of explaining, Person simply pointed in the direction Raina had gone.

“She went up to the Rocky Cliff.”

That alone was answer enough for a disciple seeking her master.
Kevenriak moved in the direction Person had indicated.
Stepping outside the building and surveying the surroundings, I spotted a purple flower blooming atop the distant, towering Rocky Cliff.
It was Raina Hart.
She sat upon the cliff’s highest stone, gazing out at the vast landscape spread before her eyes as she cooled her anger.

‘Damn Heteroven.’

Every member of this empire’s Imperial Family displeased me—save for my disciple.
The words that sometimes echoed in my mind—’do not forgive’—might perhaps be urging me to swallow the Imperial Palace whole.

‘But surely not.’

Wait.

“….”

Raina Hart tilted her head in puzzlement.

‘Could it truly be otherwise?’

There were only three instances in which Raina Hart had perceived another entity intervening in her existence within this world.

1. The promise she remembered upon first entering the novel—’Please protect …’—made by someone.
2. The voice that occasionally whispered in her mind: ‘Do not forgive.’
3. The semi-transparent window that appeared of its own accord.

If the voice whispering that she should not forgive belonged to the same person who had asked her to ‘protect …’—
In other words, if it were a request from whoever had thrust her into this world—

‘Did whoever placed me here have purposes beyond the protagonists’ happy ending? To make me refuse forgiveness to the Heteroven Royal Family?’

The interpretation matters more than the dream itself.
Having found her justification, Raina Hart tensed the joints of her fingers.
I could swallow the Imperial Palace whole.
What if I became Emperor? Then Keri wouldn’t have to become a tyrant.
If it were me, I wouldn’t torment Tiernan Fargan and Vivian either. Those two would find their happy ending on their own. And my dear Keri could live happily with his master Emperor backing him.
Fine, a new option has emerged….

“….”

…No. Raina Hart corrected her darkening thoughts.
I had nearly become a tyrant wielding the Grimoire of Magic.
From behind, I felt the mana wavelength in the air shift.
Raina Hart dispelled even her remaining anger with a shallow breath and rose to her feet.
She turned to face her disciple, who had appeared through instantaneous movement.

“Keri, did your conversation with His Majesty go well?”
“Yes.”

She greeted her disciple with her usual smile.
Kevenriak smiled back at Raina Hart and asked her.

“Are you very angry?”
“Me?”
“You seem upset.”

At those words, Raina Hart felt a pang of regret.
She had tried to appear composed, but these past few years, her disciple always seemed to see through her state.

‘Still, I cannot tell him the truth.’

She could not tell her disciple that she was furious because of the Heteroven Royal Family.
How they had abused him so cruelly burned within her.
And now they shamelessly sought to rely on him—it was absurd and infuriating.
But as his master, she could not lay bare everything.
It was also a master’s role to guide her disciple so he would not see the world askew.
Raina Hart squinted one eye and shook her head.

“Just-.”

I had been about to say it was because of the turmoil that had erupted in the Imperial Palace, but Kevenriak beat me to it.
Kevenriak spoke first.

“Master, do you dislike the Emperor?”

My lips sealed shut.
My disciple was often like this. His purity meant he harbored no malice, and precisely because he meant no harm, he asked questions that pierced straight to the heart with an innocent expression.
Of course I disliked him. Of course I did, but I had no desire to show such negative emotions to my disciple.
Of course I dislike it. Of course I dislike it, but I had no intention of showing such negative feelings to my student.

“…!”
“…!”

Raina Hart’s heart sank.

“What did Keri say…?”

I had merely hoped, just as the original Kevenriak had, that a bloodstained crown would never rest upon his head.
Just as it was with the original Kevenriak Heteroven, I hoped that a blood-stained crown would never rest upon Kevenriak Heteroven’s head.

“If you want to become the Emperor, what should I do?”

If my disciple wishes it, I will listen and comply. After all, I am quite weak when it comes to him.

“…Yes.”
“…I don’t like it.”

What a pathetic master I was.
Having said I disliked it, I appeared so precarious, as though the ground beneath my feet might crumble and send me plummeting at any moment.
Kevenriak pulled me toward him and held me firmly in his embrace.
Kevenriak pulled such a master toward him and held him firmly in his embrace.

“….”
“….”

Raina Hart placed her hand on her kind disciple’s broad back and asked pleadingly.

“Keri, will you make a promise with your master?”
“Yes.”
“This year…”

—————
This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
—————