That’s How I Became a Villainess - Chapter 33

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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 33

“Me, sir?”
“I’d like to ask you something. Should I ever need to leave this Estate for any reason, could Sedric possibly remain behind?”
“You’re leaving, then?”
Sedric swallowed hard.
Bridget smiled, a faint expression that revealed nothing.
“I’ll keep my name. I don’t wish to hand over the position of Mistress of the House to Penelope.”
Sedric guessed that Bridget intended to retire to her Natal Home for a time.
If she wished to preserve her standing as the Baron’s wife, it was not a sound strategy.
Bridget could not have failed to understand this. Yet she was making the request nonetheless, and Sedric found himself unable to remain silent for his concern. “Must you truly vacate the position? The Baron is still broaching the subject of divorce.”
“There are circumstances. While I am away, I need you to ensure that Penelope does not assume the role of Mistress of the House here.”
Bridget added quietly, her voice dropping.
“I want Sedric to be my eyes. If you do this for me, there will be a reward worth your while.”
It was an unusual request.
Something complicated seemed to be unfolding.
Sedric wanted to help Bridget, but his desire to escape Isaac burned far stronger.
Unable to face her trust in him, he declined with measured courtesy.
“I beg your pardon, but no reward this Estate might offer would satisfy me. What I desire is only one thing: for the place I steward to be remembered as something of which I can be proud.”
As it stood now, this place held nothing of which to be proud. That disappointed him deeply.
Unless he could fell the rotting tree that was Isaac and uproot the weed that was Penelope, no compensation seemed possible.
Yet Bridget nodded, as though she had known his answer all along.
“That is precisely the reward I intend to offer you.”
“I… beg your pardon?”
Sedric fell briefly silent, blinking.
“Will you still refuse my request?”
Bridget was promising to cast both Isaac and Penelope out from this Estate.

It was a place the Duke of Linchester had taken up residence in recently, under the pretense of convalescing.
Until Julian staged his Rebellion and became king, the Duke had wielded power alongside his sister Josephine—the Queen Mother—and lived in splendor.
Yet now, so the story went, he lived in seclusion on this remote farm, his health in decline, receiving no one and keeping to himself in quietude.
Rumors circulated openly that he would soon cede his title to his heir and retire from public life.
But the truth was otherwise.
“Prime Minister Langston’s movements have grown suspicious.”
The warehouse on the farm was crowded with aristocrats.
Though decrepit in appearance from without, its interior was lavish beyond measure—as opulent as any nobleman’s private conference chamber.
In the center sat the Duke of Linchester, his bearing unmarked by any sign of infirmity.
His frame was lean, his hair white, yet his eyes burned with a sharpness and intensity that rivaled the young.
He swept those hawk-like eyes across his supporters.
His adjutant stood before the assembled crowd, presenting a briefing.
“The Military Inspection Bureau has launched a comprehensive investigation into military supplies. Suspicious individuals have been frequenting the trading operations of the Earl of Kensington. They appear to be agents of Prime Minister Langston.”
The Duke of Linchester, who had been listening in silence, leaned forward with displeasure, striking his pipe and resettling himself.
“Tch. How that bloated, dull-witted dog managed to catch a scent is beyond me.”
The Duke regarded Prime Minister Langston—whom Julian had appointed to his cabinet—as possessed of only mediocre ability.
This only inflamed his anger further.
How had the contemptible Prime Minister discovered the Earl of Kensington’s transgressions and initiated this investigation?
With Julian as king, the military had become useless—a lamp hidden beneath a bushel.
To a man who could march into battle alone and unleash Legion-Class Combat Power to annihilate his enemies, the army held little value.
When Julian had brought the decades-long war against the Felons Kingdom to an end in mere months, soldiers had returned from the field en masse.
Now no one feared war.
The military’s primary mission had shifted from warfare to national defense, demanding sweeping institutional reorganization.
Yet Julian, as head of state, had done nothing since the Purge of Factions. The Prime Minister had barely managed to keep the regime—born of Rebellion—from collapsing entirely.
Knowing all this, the Duke of Linchester had quietly begun embezzling military supplies.

The military organization was in disarray, lacking any semblance of order, and blind wealth overflowed—perfect for skimming profits in the shadows.
But for reasons no one could fathom, Julian had moved against the Earl of Kensington without warning, and Prime Minister Langston had begun investigating the Earl’s background.
“What could Julian Blake possibly know?”
“If this unravels further, won’t we be caught up in it too? Won’t we face a purge of factions ourselves?”
“We’re already crawling on our bellies just to keep our heads above water…….”
The Duke of Linchester’s supporters murmured restlessly among themselves.
After some time spent anxious and whispering, they turned as one to face him, hoping he would speak.
The Duke of Linchester, who had been saying nothing and merely exhaling smoke, finally broke the silence—quietly, but with unmistakable force.
“We stand at the cliff’s edge already. There is nowhere left to fall. So we must overturn the table.”
“What do you mean? With that Shadow Curse, we can barely hold on to our lives as it is.”
“I mean to give a bow to an enemy that the Shadow Curse cannot touch.”
The Duke of Linchester smiled—a cunning smile.

* * *

Milea entered Julian’s bedroom and, as always, drew back the curtains and threw open the windows.
“Your meal is ready.”
She expected to find Julian curled up on the bed in that liminal state between sleep and waking—another night spent without rest.
But his voice came from an entirely different direction.
“My keeper has arrived.”
Despite the chill of early morning, Julian emerged through the adjoining door, his clothes soaked with sweat.
“You’ve been training since dawn, then.”
Milea brightened visibly.
“While you bathe, the food will grow cold. I’ll have it reheated for you.”
These past few days, Julian’s condition had improved considerably.
There had been no fits, no coughing of blood, and he no longer seemed to be drowning himself in drink to dull his suffering.
What could be the reason?
Milea found herself thinking of Bridget, who had spent the past several days bustling about, claiming she would purge the bedroom of its dark magic.
Was it because the bedroom had been cleansed? Or perhaps……the influence of Bridget herself?
It could be both, or neither at all.
‘……I’m not certain, but regardless, it’s good that His Highness is regaining his strength.’
Milea felt a genuine warmth seeing the diligent Julian she had once known return, if only in glimpses.
He who had languished passively, waiting for death, now seemed to be finding his vigor anew.
Julian set down his sword as though dropping a weight, shed his outer coat, and glanced sideways at Milea as she gathered his things without complaint.
“Going out?”
When at the Royal Palace, Milea wore maid’s attire; today, she was dressed in ordinary clothes.
Julian, who ordinarily feigned indifference to her comings and goings, was now asking such a question.
Of course, his silence on matters had never meant genuine unconcern—she knew that well.
Without speaking or giving sign, Milea had always sensed that Julian knew every move she made, every step she took.
‘He likely assigned a Shadow Knight to watch over me.’
The Shadow Knight had no consciousness, so it could not report what it saw and heard to Julian, but it seemed to serve the function of signaling him if she found herself in danger or when she met with someone.
Merely summoning and using the Shadow Knight in such ways would steadily drain Julian’s remaining lifespan.
Yet Milea could not bring herself to stop him.
She understood the fear that drove him.
He was terrified of what might befall her in the moments she slipped from his sight.
Julian was a man willing to spend his life freely if it meant protecting those precious to him.
He had not always been this way—but three years ago, when he barely escaped alive from the final assassins Josephine had sent, that obsession had crystallized into something absolute.
“I’m going to visit my Natal Home for a while. I thought I would check that Eric is doing well…….”
Milea watched his expression closely as she continued.
“……and see Bridget while I’m there.”
She observed how his gaze wandered for a moment into empty space, how his lips trembled almost imperceptibly.

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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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