That’s How I Became a Villainess - Chapter 26

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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 26

Penelope dried her tears in Isaac’s arms for a long time.
“Bridget is watching us from heaven right now, isn’t she? She won’t resent you. She’d want the rest of us to be happy.”
“Would she? Do you really think so?”
“Of course. I knew her better than anyone.”
“How would I have managed without you, Penelope?”
Anxious, he kept seeking reassurance in others’ words, and Penelope—who offered exactly what he needed to hear—had become his anchor.
Penelope stroked his back gently.
Even amid the sorrow that Bridget’s death had brought, she found herself happy noticing how much Isaac had grown to depend on her these past few days.
‘Bridget, you were such a good friend. Even as you left, you gave me this gift.’
How fortuitous that the King had struck at the Kensington Estate just then.
Because of it, Isaac clung to her now like a child seeking comfort.
This tragedy was binding them together ever more tightly.
A love forged through trials and hardship—destiny itself!
In the end, wasn’t all of this a gift from Bridget to her?

That night, Penelope slipped into a secluded corner of the garden and lit several candles where no one would see.
With a spade from the garden shed, she dug a small hole, placed Bridget’s bracelet and shoes—items the girl had worn often—into a paper box, set it in the ground, and covered it with soil.
“Bridget…”
Tears spilled freely as she patted the earth back into place.
“Your death is still a secret, so I console your spirit this way. I hope it brings you peace.”
In the hushed garden, Penelope’s whispered voice mingled with the chirping of crickets in the darkness.
She smoothed the soil with her spade and placed a stone ornament upright as a makeshift headstone.
It was a souvenir Isaac had bought for her during their travels to Russel.
A simple ornament with the inscription “I shall be with you always”—words the two of them had chosen and had engraved together.
Penelope thought those words suited both her and Bridget perfectly in this moment, so she deliberately chose it as a headstone.
“Poor Bridget. I’ll never forget you. Tomorrow, when Isaac presents the divorce document to the Nobility Council and it’s approved, you’ll be erased from the Winston Family records. But that’s merely formality. You understand, don’t you?”
Penelope caressed the headstone as if caressing Bridget herself.
“From now on, I’ll become the Countess of Winston in your place. In honor of the care I’ve shown tonight, please don’t resent us too much and do bless our future together. Thank you, Bridget. Because of you, I was happy for so many days.”
She finished a brief prayer for Bridget and rose to her feet.
She believed that Bridget, who would wander without a proper grave, would be grateful to have this place prepared for her.
A single tear rolled down her cheek.
“I’ll remember you.”
Wiping her face, Penelope looked back once at the grave she had made, offered a sad smile, and turned to leave.
Her footsteps were light.
Behind her, the stone ornament tipped over and sank into the soft earth.

* * *

Rain had been falling steadily since dawn and showed no sign of stopping as afternoon turned late.
These past few days had felt like deep spring, bright and warm, but now that the rain had come, the air grew sharp as midwinter.
Bridget wrapped her hands around a warm cup of tea, grateful for the warmth returning to her cold fingertips.
Unable to keep Bridget confined to her room any longer, Milea had finally allowed her to move freely within the residence.
As Bridget sat in the dining hall, looking out at the rainy landscape through a large window, the servants glanced at her furtively as they passed.
Beyond her strange first impression, Bridget—a presence that had to be hidden—seemed to unsettle them, carrying a secretive and troubling air.
Bridget had become a source of tension in the servants’ everyday lives.
“If you’re going to stare like that, you might as well look properly.”
Milea, having brought Julian his meal, entered the dining hall and offered the maid a light reproof.
“If you don’t keep your eyes in check, people think you’ve lost your manners.”
“I’m sorry. I’ll take the tray to the kitchen right away, Spencer.”
The maid, caught red-handed sneaking glances at Bridget, looked embarrassed and met Bridget’s eyes nervously.
“I’m sorry the servants are making you uncomfortable, Bridget.”
Bridget, who had been listening to the exchange over her shoulder, smiled quietly.
“Even God cannot suppress human curiosity, can he? I would’ve looked too if I were in their place.”
Those who worked in the Royal Palace were, after all, only human.
Milea was skilled at managing her household staff, but even she could not police their curiosity or their gazes.
“How is His Highness doing?”
“The same as always.”
Bridget asked out of courtesy, her tone light, and Milea, as was her habit, offered little in return.
Though they inhabited the same palace, Bridget found it difficult to learn what Julian was occupying himself with.
She wondered whether he ate well at his regular meals, what he did when he rested, yet Milea never loosened her tongue to anyone regarding Julian’s private affairs.
Milea broached the subject of Isaac.
“I sent someone to investigate the movements of the Winston heir, and it seems the Winston Family has been spreading rumors that Bridget ran away. They’re probably trying to sever ties before the scandal reaches them as well.”
That Julian had struck at the Kensington Estate was hot gossip among the nobility.
Milea pieced together rumors and what she’d witnessed firsthand to reconstruct the events of that day.
That Isaac had sold Bridget to the Kensington Earl, that Julian had killed the Kensington Earl for it, and how whispers of the Kensington Earl’s political purge were making Isaac lie low—all of it fell into place.
“Because of the rumors the Winston heir spread, people are saying Bridget lost a lovers’ quarrel with a rival and ran away in defeat, while the servants at the Winston Residence are spreading conspiracy theories that the heir mistreated her. The gossip sheets are all contradicting each other—it’s become quite the spectacle.”
Milea was the sort of person who prioritized conveying facts clearly over reading emotions, believing it more important to solve problems effectively.
So her words, stripped of any softening, sounded cold and sharp at first hearing.
Only after speaking did she seem to realize that Bridget might be hurt, and she added hastily at the end.
“I’m telling you because I thought you should know. Have I overstepped?”
“I’m fine, Milea. You’re only saying it because you want to help.”
“I wonder if I should have let you go when you said you wanted to leave. I didn’t expect him to act like this.”
Milea’s hands clenched into fists beneath the table.
Bridget, by contrast, remained composed, listening as one might to someone else’s story, and rose to fetch a fresh cup, pouring tea for Milea.
“Have some. You’ll feel better.”
“Are you comforting me now?”
“It’s what I expected. Isaac must think I’m dead. So he’ll absolve himself of all guilt and argue for a divorce without a second thought.”
Milea marveled at how Bridget could remain so composed.
“What will you do now?”
“Isaac has walked into his own trap.”
Bridget smiled quietly, savoring the aroma of the tea.
“When I appear before him alive, he’ll be afraid. After all, I could expose that he sold me to the Kensington Earl.”
“That fear could turn against you and cause you harm.”
“Don’t worry. That won’t happen.”
Milea wondered how Bridget could speak with such certainty, but Bridget offered only a vague deflection.
“But will the Kensington Earl’s matter simply be swept under the rug like this?”
Bridget had known who the Kensington Earl was even before she’d ever met him in person.
He was one of Julian’s political opponents, connected to the remnant forces of Josephine Dowager.
The Dowager’s faction, centered around Lancaster Duke, had been purged en masse when Julian ascended the throne.
Yet because they had held power and wealth for so long, they were never completely destroyed; roots remained, and they lay dormant, waiting for Julian’s death.
Working in the shadows beyond Julian’s sight, they gradually rebuilt their strength, and it was later revealed that the Kensington Earl had served as their financier under Lancaster Duke.
As they were rebuilding their faction, they employed subtle tactics to ensure the world’s attention did not fall upon them.
They unleashed sensational gossip to captivate the public, making the world a circus of noise and distraction.
Gossip like that about “footloose Bridget,” for instance.

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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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