That’s How I Became a Villainess - Chapter 44

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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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Chapter 44

His sharp warning had not stopped Bridget.
“I felt the same way.”
……
“I’m glad you came today. I’m glad to sit across from you like this. I’m so glad I could die. This will be a precious moment I won’t forget until my dying day.”
……
Beneath her lowered lids, Bridget’s eyes gleamed with a soft smile playing at her lips.
Lillian’s gaze wavered, words abandoning him entirely.
“I’m grateful to see you again. Thank you for coming.”
……
Had she always been so direct in her affections? No—she hadn’t been like this before.
Back then, she’d been more reserved, hesitant, fumbling with her words.
The roles had been reversed entirely in those days.
Bridget had said little, while Lillian had spouted foolish remarks, desperate to capture her attention.
“I thought we’d never see each other again.”
……
“Now I feel like I can actually live.”
At the soft ripple of her laughter, Lillian—who had been momentarily stunned—turned away with a jerk.
“Nonsense.”
He folded his arms and shut his eyes as though refusing to hear another word.

* * *

Milia started when she saw Bridget trailing behind Lillian.
“……You’re the only person who startles me this often.”
“Milia.”
“What in the world happened to you?”
Milia stared at Bridget—face, hair, and dress all streaked with soot—as though she had no idea where to begin.
“What occurred? Something dreadful has clearly happened. Was there a fire in the estate?”
Bridget couldn’t bring herself to tell Milia what had transpired that day, and laughed awkwardly instead.
Observing her reaction, Lillian exhaled a sigh and then spoke flatly before departing for his chamber.
“Prepare a room for her. She’ll need plenty of clothes.”
‘Plenty of clothes?’
Milia watched Lillian’s retreating figure intently.
‘Is he planning to keep her here?’
Her mind raced as she tried to discern his intentions.
Bridget laughed breezily enough, but her appearance made it clear she’d endured something far from ordinary.
That Lillian had brought her back safely and swiftly meant only one thing.
‘He had the Shadow Knight watching over her. She must have found herself in danger, and he retrieved her.’
Milia understood the significance of such an act.
Her lips, which had been parted slightly, pressed together.
‘Ah, so it’s come to this.’
Bridget had become someone worth protecting, even at the cost of his own life.
Or perhaps she always had been—Milia simply hadn’t acknowledged it until now.
There existed between Lillian and Bridget a different species of affection than what bound her to him.
Something more electric, more passionate, more carnal.
One need only look at the way he gazed upon her.
Milia could see it plainly—the suffocating possessiveness roiling beneath the surface.
It came as no surprise. She had harbored suspicions about the two of them all along.
Yet neither was it welcome.
‘Ah, why must he covet another man’s woman. I’d hoped he would keep denying it.’
But Lillian had brought Bridget here, and he had ordered Milia to make space for her beside him.
Milia led Bridget forward, taking care not to let her discomfort show.
“This way.”
“The room I used before……”
“No more talk. Come along before anyone sees you like that.”
Bridget caught the subtle sharpness that had crept into Milia’s voice and fell silent.
The direction Milia led her was toward Lillian’s chamber.

* * *

“I’ll have someone bring your things, so make a list for me. I can assign a personal chambermaid to you, or if you prefer, we can bring one of Bridget’s people,” Milia explained, her tone crisp and businesslike.

“In a few days, His Highness’s secretary will come to find you. Sign the documents he shows you, and from then on, you’ll be living in this palace. Since you’re married, your husband’s signature will be required on those papers as well. Do you have any questions?”
“No, none at all.”
“Then I’ll have fresh clothes brought. Will you need a maid’s help washing?”
“That’s alright. I can manage on my own.”
“I’ll just help you out of the dress.”
An awkward silence settled between them after that.
There was only the soft whisper of fabric as Bridget stepped out of her gown.
Looking at the room she’d been shown into, Bridget finally understood why Milia’s demeanor had shifted so abruptly.
This was the chamber of a royal concubine.
Right beside the bed was a connecting door to Lillian’s chamber, and they would share the inner bath.
Lillian must have heard Milia bringing her here, yet he remained silent behind that door.
It meant Milia had grasped his intentions correctly.
The documents the secretary would bring were a contract for becoming the king’s concubine.
Just as couples signed a marriage contract when wedding, a royal concubine had to sign an Official Concubine Contract.
It was a binding agreement that laid out the concubine’s rights, obligations, and financial compensation.
The fact that Bridget was married presented no obstacle whatsoever.
Kings throughout history had often married women of lower rank to nobility—granting them titles in the process—to make them suitable as concubines. It was common enough.
Isaac would receive a copy of the contract detailing his own compensation, and he’d be overjoyed.
After what he’d endured today, receiving compensation instead of death was nothing short of a windfall.
Now Bridget’s only duty would be to faithfully play the role of a jester, amusing the king.

* * *

That dawn.
“Ngh……”
A stifled moan hung heavy beneath the night air.
“Ack!”
Lillian’s body convulsed violently.
Though he clamped his hand over his mouth, dark crimson blood seeped between his fingers and splattered onto the bathroom floor.
“Guh! Hack!”
He retched another clot of blood into the basin, then collapsed to his knees, gasping hard for breath.
Pain clawed through his body like a living thing.
His pupils dilated as he curled forward, pressing his hands against his chest.
“Ahhh……!”
His clenched fists trembled uncontrollably.
A revulsion crawled through his entire frame—something those who had never known such agony could never fathom.
He sensed something was deeply, catastrophically wrong with his body, but he was powerless to stop it.
Pain that could not be halted, pain that could not be checked.
“Ugh……”
He barely managed to clamp his jaw shut against the sound.
Beneath the huddled form of Lillian, within the shadows pooling around him, Shadow Knights writhed and shrieked with hunger.
They clawed at one another, competing for their share of his lifespan.
They drained his vitality as desperately as infants nursing at their mother’s breast.
When Lillian’s strength finally gave out, he collapsed utterly.
Sprawled across his own blood, he stared hollowly at nothing, his breath coming in ragged gasps.
‘I want to die.’
Would it not be better to perish than to endure this torment?
Sweet oblivion—that was what he craved.
This agony had begun the day he lost Bridget, the very moment he awakened the Shadow Curse.
It worsened with each passing day, and now he often lost consciousness during the attacks.
His eyes, bloodshot and hollow, had lost their light long ago.
Could hell itself be more agonizing than this?
Was he not already living in it?
Can this even be called living?
Lillian thought of death. He dwelt on it for a long time, turning it over and over in his mind.
But then—a sound reached his ear.
A faint melody.
……
Lillian turned his thoughts from death and listened intently to that small, distant song.
Bridget was singing a Lullaby in the adjacent chamber.
‘I thought she was asleep.’
Her voice slipped softly through the gap between the chamber doors.

Sleep, child.
Sleep cradled in starlight.
Let your night become rest
And your dreams bloom into beauty.
Sleep, child.
Hold tomorrow’s light close.
Let your dawn break and bud,
And the radiant petals of tomorrow unfold.
Rest easy, child.

Her calm voice wove seamlessly with the gentle melody.
Lillian held his breath and let himself be drawn into that sound.
His ragged breathing gradually steadied, and the pain began to fade.
Even the Shadow Knights, which had been raging within him, seemed to fall quiet as if lulled into sleep by the song.
Lillian drifted into a sweet fragment of memory, soft and billowing like clouds, listening to Bridget’s thin, trembling voice.
“……That’s like a Miracle.”
“Love?”
“Loving someone means that humans—creatures who can only truly love themselves by instinct—defy that nature and cherish another as they cherish themselves. It means becoming as forgiving of another’s faults as you are forgiving of your own.”
“So that’s what it is.”
“It’s not rational at all. A very strange phenomenon. Do you know what we call something like that?”
“What do we call it?”
“A Miracle.”
How embarrassingly sincere he’d been to say such a thing.
The memory of Bridget’s shy smile, hesitant and genuine, was vivid in his mind.
If it meant making her smile, there was nothing he wouldn’t do.
Because then, it had been a Miracle.
Soon Bridget’s song ceased.
But Lillian lay there the whole night through, humming the Lullaby she had crooned over and over in the silence of his heart.
Remembering the shy smile from that day.

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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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