If You Are Suited for the Villain's Secretary - Chapter 56

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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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If the Villain’s Secretary Suits Me
Chapter 56
‘It’s just the ramblings of a drunk. There’s no need to read into it.’
Aden deliberately shook his head before finally pushing himself upright.
Holding Iliana’s discarded glasses in one hand, he carefully placed his other hand on her shoulder.
“Miss Grecia.”
He called out her name with a gentle shake.
“Miss Grecia?”
His voice was far too soft and his touch far too tender to properly wake someone intoxicated into sleep, though Aden remained oblivious to this fact.
In truth, the gesture stemmed from an unconscious desire to gaze upon her sleeping face a moment longer—a realization he equally failed to acknowledge.
Or rather, one he deliberately ignored.
So when Iliana suddenly lifted her head in response to his touch, Aden felt a flicker of surprise.
“You’re awake? Miss Grecia, perhaps we should move you to the bedroom….”
Aden had successfully concealed his bewilderment at her sudden awakening, but he failed to do so with his next words.
“Why am I still ‘Miss Grecia’?”
“…What did you say?”
“Everyone else is just Luther, just Lenox, just Selby and Laklan, but why am I still ‘Miss Grecia’…?”
Iliana, her eyes heavy with sleep yet furrowed with genuine curiosity, hugged her knees closer to herself.
Then.
“My probation ended after just one day…?”
She fell back asleep.
Aden remained frozen, his hand still gripping Iliana’s shoulder.
Soon his shoulders trembled quietly.
“I had no idea you were bothered by that.”
After laughing silently for a long while, he murmured in a voice brimming with amusement.
Now that he thought about it, she was right. Aden called only the probationary employee by her surname, while all the permanent staff he addressed by their given names.
Since her probation had ended after merely a day, it seemed he had simply continued calling Iliana by her surname out of habit.
Aden, still smiling, opened his mouth. He intended to call her by her name.
‘Iliana.’
Yet the soft, rounded syllables caught at his lips and refused to become sound.
‘Iliana.’
He tried again, murmuring it silently to himself. But once more, the name was gently swallowed away.
It was strange. It was merely a name—so why did his fingertips suddenly tingle?
…He couldn’t understand why something he’d done countless times, perhaps hundreds of thousands of times, suddenly felt like it required resolve.
“…Iliana.”
The voice that finally escaped with his breath was so tender it bewildered even himself.
Aden withdrew his hand from Iliana’s shoulder as though burned, then roughly swept his hair back.
He had been truly strange today. Searching for a rational explanation, Aden easily recalled one possibility.
‘Ezekiel Lask.’
As the Commander of the Holy Knight Order, he naturally possessed holy power.
I didn’t want to admit it, but Holy Power was almost medicinal in nature. Holy Power itself couldn’t be the cause of emotional disturbance.
However, it could have affected the mana suppressant. The mana suppressant in the hip flask that had been confiscated was also a type of magical potion, after all.
After draining an entire bottle of the spare mana suppressant from the Basement, Aden steadied his breathing. His eyes darkened.
‘The Crown Prince is paying this much attention to the matter if he’s sending the Holy Knight Order Commander.’
I had anticipated a surprise inspection, but I hadn’t expected the Holy Knight Order Commander to personally intervene.
Inspections by the Imperial Knights are typically conducted by knights of commanding rank.
Moreover, Ezekiel was my old friend, yet—
“…Calix Arden Blight, I thought you might be the ‘black sheep’ that the Holy Saint spoke of. So, so I….”
He was also a devoted servant of the Holy Saint who had first noticed that his mana was different from ordinary power and confessed it at the Temple.
In other words, he was a blind follower—a blind blade that would obey any command from the Crown Prince.
But what was puzzling was that according to information, Helios Medior wasn’t particularly friendly with Marquis Vito, who had advocated for the inspection. Rather, they seemed to be in opposition.
‘…Is he conducting a separate investigation apart from the inspection to gather information about Central Region nobles? If the intention is to conceal the investigation results and use La Mare as a scapegoat, while seizing leverage against the troublesome Marquis Vito….’
Assuming the worst-case scenario was an old habit of his.
As Aden organized his thoughts with a cold expression, he realized his heartbeat had finally subsided.
The mana suppressant was finally taking effect. Swallowing a sigh, Aden climbed the stairs leading to the upper floor.
‘Responsibility.’
Iliana, who had named her emotions as responsibility, was still asleep curled up on the sofa.
Looking down at her with a complicated expression, Aden deliberately ignored the sudden warmth that flickered at his fingertips.
Responsibility. It does seem like the right word.
The responsibility I carry as The Director toward an employee who has been caught up in all sorts of trouble despite having only recently joined.
The responsibility as someone who caused her suffering by hastily judging and intercepting her letter.
The impulse that drove me to bring her to my Safe House because I couldn’t simply ignore her insistence on staying alone in that dark, steep Mountain House….
‘…Responsibility.’
So wanting to move the woman who had fallen asleep in an uncomfortable position to the Bedroom must also be responsibility.
Though she herself had said I didn’t need to carry such responsibility.
Despite biting his lip as if chewing on his words, Aden carefully lifted Iliana into his arms with infinite tenderness.
Her weight was surprisingly light compared to the time it took to make the decision.
Creak—
As Aden carefully opened the Bedroom door, his gaze fixed on one spot.
‘That’s the jewelry box.’
This was a residence where guests never came. There was no reason to have a guest room, so this Bedroom was simply Aden’s own.
Yet in one corner of the room that had contained only a bed and a small nightstand, a small bag and an old wooden jewelry box carved by hand had appeared.
‘She said she lost her favorite keepsake from Mother’s belongings.’
How had she lost it? What could it be that she had come to treasure so? And what was the reason she cherished it?
As I pondered this, I belatedly realized my curiosity about Iliana Grecia had only grown. …Was this also responsibility?
I suppressed the rising questions.
At least not today. I couldn’t make Iliana Grecia a victim of mana backflow.
Yet as I set my glasses on my nightstand and laid Iliana on my bed, I suffered from an oddly unfamiliar sensation.
“I don’t enjoy cooking, nor do I enjoy eating.”
Aden couldn’t taste anything.
Hunger and thirst plagued me equally—side effects of the extremely concentrated mana suppressant.
Emotionally dulled as I was, my senses and pain perception had grown equally numb. The only thing that remained vivid to me was the agony when mana raged within.
Yet just moments ago, I had detected a faint sweetness from the pancake.
“It’s delicious.”
Iliana seemed to think it was merely a courtesy, but it was sincere. My hesitation had been caused by that sweetness.
However, what I encountered was far more than just a sweet taste.
It was the moment I caught sight of Iliana’s lips as she slept peacefully on my bed.
This time, the unfamiliar sensation rose with such force that I could not possibly ignore it—rough and sharp.
It resembled a thirst I had lost long ago. Suddenly, my throat felt parched.
Yet it was not thirst. This could not possibly be thirst.
The place where her warmth had lingered burned with heat, and my fingertips throbbed with a cold numbness. Her scent—unmistakably the same soap as mine, yet somehow far more fragrant—lingered within my body. Even as I exhaled, it refused to disperse from my lungs.
A sharp, overwhelming pulse constricted my heart.
“…Hah, hah.”
My heart pounded with such ferocity it ached. I hastily retreated from the bedroom and searched for the mana detector.
Grasping it in my hand, I waited for the needle to move.
This moment—when sensations I had long suppressed and crushed beneath suppressants were beginning to stir—could not be explained unless it was the influence of mana.
Yet.
“….”
The needle remained silent.
I stared blankly at the unmoving pointer for a long while.

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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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