I Bought the Villains With Money - Chapter 6

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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Episode 6.
Cashion ran his hand through his hair. His gaze lingered on the book Dayson had hurled at him.
A book filled with things Cashion already knew.
Cashion was no fool. In fact, he numbered among the clever ones. He rarely forgot anything he’d seen once, and his comprehension was remarkably swift.
He’d memorized the books Dayson brought him long ago, as if dispensing charity.
Cashion had donned the mask of a fool to survive, the guise of a docile rabbit. The fool had deceived both Dayson and the Queen into believing the act.
At first, watching Dayson fall for his deception had been amusing. Now it was tiresome.
“Three years of this already.”
Three years ago, Violeta—the former Queen and Cashion’s own mother—had died.
At the time, Cashion had been living outside the palace. Violeta had been stripped of her title before bearing him, after all.
“Come into the palace.”
At the King’s single command, Cashion had reluctantly entered.
He’d tried to resist, refusing to comply, but the arrogant King Karman was hardly about to heed the words of an eight-year-old child.
Cashion had been dragged into the Royal Palace like a calf led to slaughter, and locked away.
Even after entering the palace, he hadn’t dared hope for his father’s love. He’d only expected a modicum of pity—the kind one might grant a motherless animal.
But his heart was thoroughly trampled within a week of arriving.
Cashion learned the truth in that single week: he had been abandoned in the palace.
At that tender age, he was forced to understand how power dictated the world’s turning, and how cruel his father was for casting aside his mother.
‘Still, it’s better than outside.’
Life as a deposed Queen had been no simple affair, and the life of a prince born after his mother’s deposition was scarcely easier.
Had he remained outside alone, now that the shield of his mother was gone, he might have suffered far worse.
Cashion clung to a faint hope by sheer force of will.
But even that hope, and all optimistic thought, slowly withered away.
The loneliness of his circumstances gnawed at him relentlessly.
Cashion learned to live like a plant—quietly, still, merely breathing through the days.
Then one day, while he endured life suffocated in the Royal Palace, Dayson came to find him.
Dayson: the half-brother born through a maidservant’s body when Violeta was Queen, the First Prince.
Unable to bear children until Dayson’s birth, Violeta was cast out of the palace the moment he arrived.
From Cashion’s perspective, Dayson was a person he loathed with visceral dread.
Yet Cashion could neither stand against him nor push him away.
Behind Dayson stood Julia, the current Queen.
She claimed Dayson was the rightful and sole heir to the throne. Most officials and courtiers agreed with her position.
‘Fighting him would only get me killed.’
Remembering his mother’s dying plea to survive by any means, Cashion prostrated himself before Dayson.
Dayson enjoyed Cashion’s submissive, naive demeanor. He’d assign him tasks, and when Cashion failed to complete them, Dayson would feign comfort while skillfully displaying his own competence, steadily eroding Cashion’s pride.
Cashion had endured this for a full three years.
“What a bastard.”
Anger flooded Cashion so thoroughly that the faintest touch would send curses spilling forth. Sometimes the fury made his head swim.
“I won’t let him go. I’ll ensure he never finds salvation, not even from Helba herself, god of justice and ruin.”
Harsh words poured out. Killing intent shimmered around Cashion.
Cashion’s mind turned to a thought.
‘What if I laced something in Dayson’s drink?’
In the overgrown grass of the Garden, left unmanaged for years, toxic plants had sprung up among the rest.
Making poison would be child’s play if he put his mind to it.
‘I made it for you, brother.’
If he offered it with a servile smile and a bow, wouldn’t Dayson take at least a sip? If only he could stand over him then, watching him collapse and writhe on the floor….
“No matter what happens, you must live. Live and find happiness for both your sake and mine, Cashion.”
But his mother’s dying words seized him again by the ankle. Cashion abandoned his flimsy revenge fantasy and let his shoulders sag.
He was too exhausted to keep his eyes open. Cashion quietly closed his eyelids.
Then came the creak of a door opening.
‘…Could Dayson have come back?’
His patience for today had worn completely thin.
Cashion rubbed his throbbing temples and lifted his head.
Then he started at the sight of an unfamiliar silhouette.
“Hello, Your Highness Cashion!”
A bright and cheerful greeting reached his ears.
The person who’d opened the door had an unfamiliar face.
A pretty girl with blonde hair and green eyes. Beside her stood another woman with brown hair tied up high, but Cashion’s gaze fixed only on the golden-haired child.
“Your room is lovely. Is it okay if I sit here?”
Cashion blinked slowly, trying to recall whether he’d ever met this green-eyed girl before.
No matter how hard he rummaged through his memories, her face was entirely unfamiliar. While Cashion examined the girl, she wandered his bedroom with the ease of someone entering her own chamber, taking in every detail with visible comfort.
Who was she?
Cashion tensed, lifting his eyebrows sharply.
His mood darkened. His body felt worse by the moment.
Part of him wanted to punish her for barging into the prince’s room without permission, but there was more at stake than deceiving Dayson alone.
“The Royal Palace has walls for eyes and ceilings for ears.”
His mother’s words of caution echoed in his mind.
Perhaps Dayson had sent her to assess his condition.
“W-who are you? More importantly, how did you get in?”
Cashion suppressed his menace, blinking his wide eyes and speaking in a stammering, artless manner. It was a act he’d perfected long ago.
“Wow! You’re really good at acting.”
But his visitor saw right through the performance.
His wide, rounded eyes gradually narrowed. The innocent gaze he’d been feigning flickered and died, replaced by suspicion.
“Do you know what I heard you saying just now, from outside?”
Realizing he’d been exposed, Cashion fell silent. Silence was the finest defense in moments like these.
The girl, as if she’d never expected an answer, opened her mouth and continued on her own.
“You’re a terrible person.”
The curse slipped from her delicate lips as naturally as breath. Cashion flinched.
“What was it—the soul of Helba, the goddess of—”
She’d heard everything.
With her having already heard it all, there was no point in feigning ignorance. Cashion straightened his hunched shoulders and sprawled back against the sofa.
“I won’t forgive you. I’ll make sure you never receive salvation, not even from Helba, goddess of justice and ruin.”
Cashion completed the sentence the girl had left unfinished.
“Oh, that’s right! It wasn’t original, but it was quite poetic. Why don’t you try writing a poem while you’re at it? You seem talented.”
The girl smiled faintly and continued speaking.
“Who are you?”
Cashion no longer stumbled over his words. As his eyes opened fully, the innocent impression that had clouded his features vanished, leaving behind a sharp face etched with quiet sorrow.
The girl extended her hand.
Cashion stared down at it—a hand slightly larger and paler than his own.
“How do you do, Your Highness. I am Diana Viola Irenberg. The heir to the Irenberg Duchy. And, if I may say so, the lifeline you’ll need to grasp in order to survive.”
***
“W-who are you? More importantly, how did you get in?”
When Cashion saw me, he stammered and played the fool.
What a clever little thing.
If I hadn’t heard him cursing so cheerfully from outside, I would have fallen completely for his act. His performance was convincing enough—so pitifully earnest that it bordered on touching. It even suited his appearance.
Cashion looked fragile enough to shatter at the slightest touch, his large eyes glistening with unshed tears and his breathing shallow and labored.
His illness was a tragedy, certainly, but it served his character well.
I’d almost lingered to watch him perform, but I dismissed the impulse.
It would have been a waste of time.
Stripping away his pretense was simple enough. A few curses echoed back at him from what I’d heard outside—that sufficed.
Intelligent as he was, Cashion judged that he couldn’t fool me and dropped the act at once, revealing his true self.
“Lady Irenberg, or should I call you the Young Lady of Irenberg? Cough—blast it! What brings you here?”
He tried to seize the initiative with a cocky tone, but his body refused to cooperate.
Though his eyes blazed with spirit, each cough bent him double with such pitiable grace that it was hard not to wince for him.
“We need to air this place out. Jenise, would you open the window?”
The stale smell hanging in the room had bothered me from the moment I’d entered.
As Jenise opened the shutters, bright sunlight flooded through the glass. In the meantime, I finished surveying Cashion’s quarters.
‘Pitiful. This is supposed to be a prince’s chamber? At least the light gets in well. That much is decent.’
The room was sloppily kept, but the architecture itself was sound.
I’d seen enough of the space. Now it was time to assess Cashion.
His skin was rough, his lips chapped and raw. His complexion had taken on a sallow cast, and his frame was skeletal—his cheekbones jutted sharply beneath paper-thin skin.
Beyond his illness, it was clear he wasn’t being properly cared for.
‘The shadows under his eyes—he’s not sleeping well either.’
His nervous disposition made sense now. Anyone subjected to relentless torment, denied proper care, and afflicted with illness would grow twisted.
“What are you staring at?”
Cashion spoke curtly. Despite looking as though he might collapse at any moment, he sat with rigid dignity, his hostility unmistakable. I found his defiance admirable.
He wasn’t an abandoned kitten. He was a wolf in a cat’s skin, concealing a vicious nature beneath a delicate facade.
‘This one will need constant attention.’
I needed to ease the tension first with some light conversation, but what should I start with?
“Miss, shall I bring out the pastries and tea we brought?”
Excellent work, Jenise!
There’s nothing quite like food to bring people together.
I nodded in agreement, and Jenise sprang into action.
She withdrew a lovely plate from a large basket and arranged fragrant pastries across its surface.
With imported tea leaves steeped in hot water to accompany them, the spread was hardly extravagant, yet possessed a certain elegance.
I’d brought these along on a whim, and I was glad I had.
“Has it been poisoned?”
But my hope that the moment would soften was mere wishful thinking. Cashion remained crooked from the ground up.
Where does one even begin to teach a child with such a temperament?
I Bought the Villains with Money (Serial)
Author │ Lee In-hye
Publisher │ Kim Ju-hyung
Published by │ J Plus Media Co., Ltd. – Tiramisu
Marketing │ Han Jae-hyuk
Address │ 1101, 11F Ace Techno Tower 8th, 11 Digital-ro 33-gil, Guro-gu, Seoul
Email │ [email protected]
Website │ http://blog.naver.com/jayplemedia1
ⓒ Lee In-hye 2021
※This work is published by J Plus Media Co., Ltd. in accordance with a contract with the copyright holder,
and the content may not be used in any form or by any means without permission from the company and author.
Violation of this will result in criminal and civil legal liability.

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