That’s How I Became a Villainess - Chapter 43

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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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43

At their throats stood knights—identical in appearance to the one who’d brought Bridget—their blades lowered like executioners’ axes.
And beyond Ulian, more of these dark-armored knights formed perfect ranks, a phalanx of terrible symmetry.
‘Shadow Knights.’
Now Bridget understood. That strange, wrongness she’d sensed lingering in her own shadow all this while—it had been their presence. She’d mistaken unease for paranoia.
‘Something felt off, but when I couldn’t place it, I convinced myself I was imagining things.’
When had he planted them in her shadow?
She trembled as the eerie aura of these Shadow Knights pressed down on the space around her.
This was the first time she’d seen the Shadow Knights that Ulian commanded.
When they’d been lovers, Ulian’s power hadn’t fully awakened; he’d never shown her his Shadow Knights then.
Merely to face them was to feel fear, revulsion crawling down the spine.
She understood now why enemy soldiers on the battlefield were said to have abandoned their weapons and fled at the sight of them.
Beneath the blades of those Shadow Knights, Isaac and Penelope trembled, tears streaming down their faces, snot running.
Ulian whispered to Bridget.
“Shall I kill them?”
His face was expressionless, his eyes empty and dry—emotion and thought erased from them.
Yet something in that blank countenance, in such a moment, seemed to radiate madness itself.
Tempting. That was the word that came to mind.
To simply erase these vermin.
Isaac, inhuman in every regard. Penelope, who’d committed her cruelties and fled.
The shock and rage of what she’d endured moments ago burned through Bridget; her teeth ground together.
She’d nearly burned to death.
‘I cannot forgive them.’
Her breathing came rough and ragged.
A single word from her, and the Shadow Knights’ blades would slice through their throats. Without mercy. Without hesitation.
The thought alone brought a sickening sense of release.
They’d dragged her through her past life, innocent of any crime, laid her bare before the judgmental masses, then branded her mad and thrown her into that terrible convent. Her enemies.
Isaac, who’d sold her body to the Earl of Kensington.
Penelope, who’d stolen a friend’s husband and didn’t even know it was wrong.
The reasons they deserved death were endless.
Her breath came faster, harsher.
She felt tears of anguish rising.
Watching her grind her teeth, Ulian read her heart and made the decision for her.
“Fine. No point dirtying your mouth with them. They won’t be traveling my path anyway.”
Ulian turned to the Shadow Knights with the detached expression of a man crushing ants.
“Kill them.”
The Shadow Knights raised their blades in unison.
“No—no, please! Please! Bridget!”
“Help me! Save me! I was wrong!”
Isaac and Penelope crawled on the ground, begging for their lives.
They didn’t understand what was happening, but instinct screamed one thing: they had to beg Bridget. Only Bridget could save them.
Then Bridget squeezed her eyes shut and threw herself in front of Ulian.
“Don’t. Please, don’t.”
But the Shadow Knights didn’t stop.
Bridget ran and threw her body beneath their descending blades.
The Shadow Knights froze, statues caught mid-strike.
“Hng!”
Bridget’s breath caught in her throat—nearly losing her head, she’d thrown herself in harm’s way. The sword hung inches from her neck.
In that gap, Penelope crawled desperately away from the Shadow Knights’ reach, while Isaac clung to Bridget’s skirt as if it were salvation itself.
“Mm… mmm…”
“Bridget! Bridget!”
Ulian’s gaze turned glacial as he looked at her.
His eyes were cold with reproach for her reckless act.
“What are you doing?”
Bridget spoke to him earnestly, imploring.
“Please. I’m begging you.”
“…….”
Ulian’s defiant gaze pinned Bridget in place.
His crimson eyes flickered with irritation.
“Enough, Bridget.”
His cold voice sent a chill down her spine.
“All you have to do is look away. Is that so difficult? Compassion and goodwill must be chosen carefully. Or perhaps you want justice?”
Ulian sneered derisively, gesturing with a snort toward Isaac and Penelope.
“What justice exists in this chaos? You’d sooner find a righteous man in hell to defend.”
“That’s not what this is about.”
“Then what?”
Bridget recoiled from Isaac as though he were vermin, casting him aside before stepping toward Ulian.
The twisted expression on Ulian’s face softened slightly at her merciless efficiency.
Bridget whispered.
“For my sake, don’t kill them so quickly. That can be done anytime.”
“……What?”
“I have much to repay.”
She smiled softly, as though anticipating what lay ahead, while he stared at her in bewilderment.
It was entirely unexpected.
“If the place you’re headed is hell, I’ll walk it gladly with you. But not now. I haven’t settled my accounts yet.”

* * *

‘Ulian can’t kill anyone else. Not now.’
Bridget felt relief at having been able to stop him.
But what a turnaround in public opinion that had been.
She would have been glad to see Isaac dead.
Yet if Ulian killed anyone else now, her carefully orchestrated entry into the Gossip Journal would come to nothing.
Penelope had been caught red-handed trying to kill her, with plenty of witnesses—there was justification for swift execution.
But she was a Pregnant Woman.
Even the most heinous death-row convict, once with child, would be kept alive until delivery—such was human decency. The child bore no guilt.
‘But Ulian wouldn’t have cared about such circumstances.’
Earlier, Ulian’s eyes had been wild.
Even if she’d told him Penelope was pregnant, it would have made little difference.
There was no way to stop him except to throw herself beneath the Shadow Knight’s blade, injuries be damned.
‘Murdering a Pregnant Woman would be the worst of all possible outcomes.’
Whatever Penelope had done, Bridget couldn’t stand by and watch Ulian’s reputation sink lower because of her.
She had no idea how the Duke of Linchester might exploit this situation. She wouldn’t give him such an opening.
Bridget regarded Ulian across from her.
Inside the Carriage, in this cramped space sealed on all sides, she could observe him without restraint.
‘I missed you.’
It hadn’t been long since she’d left the Royal Palace, yet she’d only seen his face twice there.
She’d lived through long years yearning for him with an ache that never dulled.
Even watching him now, so close, she still wanted to look at him.
The two of them were riding together toward the Royal Palace in the Carriage.
It wasn’t optional—Ulian had unceremoniously pulled Bridget inside.
‘I did ask Cedric to look after the Estate……’
Cedric had arrived at that spot just after Bridget stopped Ulian’s murder.
Just before the Carriage departed, Bridget managed to roll down the window and speak to him hurriedly.
Cedric had told her not to worry, but she couldn’t know what would happen next at the Winston Estate in her absence.
Tremendous things had occurred.
Penelope had nearly killed her, and the King and the Shadow Knights had invaded the Estate.
She wondered if she should really leave without having put anything in order.
But she felt Ulian’s unwavering resolve not to leave her behind, and she had no choice.
Though her gaze was directed elsewhere, Bridget knew that Ulian was concentrating entirely on her presence.
“You planted a Shadow Knight with me when I was at the Royal Palace, didn’t you?”
“…….”
“If it hadn’t been for you, I’d be dead today. Thank you.”
Ulian’s brow furrowed.
“Thank you?”
He let out a nervous laugh.
“That’s what sorry means, isn’t it? That I’m sorry the life I saved almost got stolen from me by someone else. That I’m sorry, that I should beg forgiveness.”
He pulled Bridget closer.
Their faces drew near, separated by only a narrow gap.
Meeting his gaze at such proximity, she felt the heat of the rage he was holding back.
“Listen well. Your life is mine. From the moment I saved you. So no one else is allowed to touch you. Don’t forget that.”
Bridget did not deny it.
“Yes, you’re right. I’m yours. So hold me in your hands. Even if it hurts, even if it chokes me, even if I don’t understand—grip me like a glass marble in your palm.”
“…….”
Ulian, disarmed by her absolute certainty, stared at her.
The crimson eyes that had burned with fury now held only confusion.
He withdrew from her, his strength spent.
“I—what I’m trying to say…….”
He stopped mid-thought and exhaled slowly.
“Don’t swallow the words. Speak, Ulian. I want to hear your voice.”
“……What I’m about to say, you can’t handle.”
“I can. I will. All of it.”
Ulian laughed bitterly.
“Don’t mistake saving a life once for something more. You can’t handle it. You don’t know what I think when I’m without you, what dark thoughts I live through every hour, every day, tearing you apart in my mind.”
“So you were always thinking of me.”
“……Don’t be glib.”

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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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