That’s How I Became a Villainess - Chapter 45

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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 45

Bridget stopped singing as she felt the Mana that had been suffocating her gradually disperse.
She could tell Julian hadn’t fallen asleep from the flow of his Mana.
Until just moments ago, his room had been flooded with Mana like waves.
Then it churned with threatening force, as though it meant to swallow her whole.
She’d felt a chill of fear—Mana she’d been aware of since birth.
When she was younger, she’d been terrified once, watching the Mana take on a human shape. But as she grew older, the Mana no longer frightened her.
She understood it was weaker than it appeared, and that it held no power over her.
Yet this time, she had been afraid.
It had felt like a natural disaster.
As though she stood before an overwhelming force created by nature itself.
‘I’ve never seen anything like this.’
Even in that dreadful Convent, she’d never encountered anyone radiating Mana of this magnitude.
Bridget placed her trembling hand against the wall by her bed, fear’s residue still making her fingers shake.
Beyond that wall lay Julian.
Separated by nothing but a single wall, yet she had no idea what he was doing there.
What could be happening in the depths of night that made him summon death itself?
Why had he poured out such terrible despair?
‘Julian…’
She wanted to rush to his side at once.
She wanted to ease his solitude, however little she could.
But fear held her back.
She couldn’t bear to see what pitiful state he might be in, couldn’t muster the courage to face it.
Bridget wiped away her tears.
How long had he endured nights like this alone?

* * *

The next morning, Bridget, who had fallen asleep only late in the dawn, awoke to a knock.
“We’ve been sent by Milea to assist with your morning preparations.”
Two young maids entered, explained their purpose, and promptly helped her wash and dress.
Once again without spare clothing of her own, Bridget wore a servant’s dress that Milea had lent her.
As they attended to her, the maids seemed uncertain how to treat this woman who had occupied the Royal Palace again and taken the place designated for the king’s mistress.
“Has His Highness awakened?”
To Bridget’s question, one maid remained silent with a pinched expression throughout, while the other proved excessively kind.
“Well, you see, His Highness moves about so unpredictably, and we’re not permitted near his private chambers, so we don’t really know his whereabouts. Besides, as he does as he pleases, he has no set schedule or established route. We can’t say whether he’s awake, asleep, or where he’s gone.”
Eager to make a good impression on Bridget, the maid had been overly cordial and then provided far too many details about Julian, drawing a pointed look from her companion.
“Stop your idle chatter. Milea will have your head for it.”
“What did I do? You asked me, so I answered.”
It was certainly the sort of thing Milea would disapprove of.
Bridget refrained from asking further questions to spare the maids any trouble.
They were the king’s attendants, not her personal servants.
‘The ambient Mana is calm, so either he’s still asleep or he’s gone out.’
As the kindly maid finished with her preparations and left, she whispered:
“I’m rooting for you, ma’am. It’s fortunate that His Highness chose you. I imagine Bellingham is shaking in her shoes right now.”
“Melony!”
The perpetually stern-faced maid furrowed her brow.
At that, the maid called Melony winked at Bridget and hurried out after her colleague.
Melony had apparently decided to become Bridget’s ally after hearing the gossip.
If the maids had been spreading rumors among themselves, the other one’s cool reception made sense.
‘She thought I was an innocent victim, but now I’ve arrived as Julian’s mistress—of course it’s absurd to her.’
This wouldn’t be limited to the chambermaid staff.
Once word officially spread that Bridget had become the king’s mistress, people would defend her, condemn her, cheer for her, or shun her—each according to their own convictions.
‘It doesn’t matter. I exposed myself to gossip from the start to become a topic of conversation.’
She intended to exploit that notoriety to prevent the Duke of Linchester from manipulating public opinion as he pleased going forward.
Notoriety was a double-edged sword.
It could become poison to herself, but she could also use the concentrated attention to strike at others.
Bridget had nothing to lose and nothing to fear; she was preparing for what lay ahead.
She had experience living as someone swept along by public opinion, and she knew how to move it herself.
From now on, she intended to lead that opinion.
‘For that, I’ll need to earn the trust of those around me first.’
Bridget made her way to the Kitchen and found Milea.
Milea spent much of her time there, seeing to Julian’s meals—breakfast, lunch, and dinner.
She was carefully inspecting the ingredients for Julian’s meals when she noticed Bridget entering the Kitchen.
“What brings you here, Bridget?”
“Could we talk for a moment?”
“Of course.”
Milea entrusted the unfinished ingredients to the head chef and moved with Bridget to the Reception Room.
Bridget sensed the same awkward tension in Milea’s presence as yesterday.
“Have you made any inquiries about me?”
“Spare me the cryptic insinuations. If you have something you want me to know about yourself, why not simply say it?”
“I can’t.”
“Then I have no choice but to regard you with suspicion, Bridget. I can’t understand what you’re trying to say at all.”
A flicker of sorrow crossed Bridget’s face.
Milea caught it.
‘She’s clearly been wronged by something. Why can’t she speak of it?’
Milea hoped that Bridget would ultimately surrender and confess her secret.
But Bridget chose to let it go.
“Then I’ll tell you only what I’m able to say.”
“Do as you wish.”
Milea exhaled a frustrated sigh.
Bridget did not shrink back.
“The truth is, His Highness and I knew each other before. We were lovers.”
“I suspected as much. I regret that not knowing, I brought up your name to His Highness and reignited what I thought had become a cold ember—did you have no intention of letting it remain merely a beautiful memory of the past, as it has been until now?”
It was a reproach: why become a mistress at all?
Milea, a woman of principle, believed that regardless of what sort of inhuman creature she had for a husband, once marriage vows were sworn, Bridget should preserve the sanctity of that union.
Just because one party failed to do so did not mean the other had to follow suit.
Milea had no desire to associate with anyone who would defile what marriage should be—sacred.
No matter how much she owed him as her son’s benefactor, no matter how dear a friend he had become.
“I am not a beautiful memory to His Highness. I committed a grave wrong against him. He will never forgive me for it. He hates me even now.”
“I don’t follow.”
Milea’s brow furrowed.
If that were true, wouldn’t Julian’s present actions seem all the stranger?
Why would he save a former lover who had wronged him irreparably, and bring her here?
Besides, Julian had become a merciless tyrant who showed no mercy to anyone who displeased him—a man of such cruelty would never keep alive someone he hated.
“His Highness would never make someone he hated into a mistress. Aren’t you simply deceiving yourself?”
“He keeps me here as his mistress as a form of punishment.”
“Punishment?”
“He loves me, but he also hates me—so he cannot kill me, nor can he turn away from me. You would understand this, even if others wouldn’t.”
…….
“His Highness is someone who pours the totality of his heart into love—you know that, don’t you?”
Though she gave no outward sign, Milea was deeply startled.
She had thought herself the only one who knew this side of Julian—yet here was another who understood.
‘Even if I were to betray him, he could never bring himself to kill me.’
That was Julian’s contradiction.
To a man notorious as a brutal slaughterer, this weakness—this terrible indecision—clung to him.
‘Rather than kill me, he would choose to go mad himself.’
That was the kind of man he was.

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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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