The Baddest Villainess Is Back - Chapter 121

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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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Part 1, Episode 1
Knock, knock.
Rozelin, who had been reading in a chair bathed in sunlight, lifted her head slowly at the sound.
Click.
The locked door handle turned. A man entered smoothly, offering a faint smile.
“Rozelin.”
Rozelin regarded him with an impassive expression, then straightened in her seat.
“Your Highness, Third Prince.”
“I’m relieved you’re still here. I thought perhaps you’d moved again.”
“I haven’t been settled in this village for very long.”
Rozelin rose from her seat and ran her fingers once across the nape of her neck.
The Mansion wasn’t enormous, but it was spacious enough for one person to live alone.
Since discovering where Rozelin had hidden herself after leaving the Duke’s Residence, Arma had begun visiting her like this from time to time.
Seeing her neck flushed the slightest shade of warmth, Arma smiled to himself.
In truth, no one else would have called that subtly flushed nape a sign of emotion, but Arma, who had spent over a decade beside her, understood now.
It was the only means of expression this beautiful, supremely detached woman possessed.
“When do you intend to leave?”
“I’m not sure. The sea breeze is beginning to wear on me, I must admit.”
Rozelin murmured softly, sensing the faint salt air drifting through the half-open window.
She moved naturally into the kitchen and brought out tea in a cup, setting it on the dining table with practiced ease.
Twice a month. Every Sunday evening as the sun descended, Arma came to find her like this.
In essence, Rozelin’s flight had rendered their engagement into something approaching a Broken Engagement.
War teetered on the brink of eruption, and the Duke’s House hemorrhaged influence by the day. The Duke himself lay fevered in bed, and his eldest son, enraged by the situation, had fled long ago. The second had already been purged, his head severed ages past.
Even the Young Duke who remained was living day to day, and it seemed his wife had taken to controlling the Ducal House in his stead.
For Rozelin, there was nowhere left to return. She had become utterly alone.
Though she had likely felt that way from the very beginning.
‘……Steadfast creature. She survives rather well.’
He’d never imagined she would gather the intelligence she accumulated and sell it to rival families for coin.
Arma observed her straight spine. The way her back never bent, even as she prepared refreshments, seemed to reflect her nature entirely.
“I’ve missed you, Rozelin.”
As always, he spoke the words prepared as habit, and her shoulders flinched ever so slightly.
Yet she betrayed no further disturbance. As though any greater show of emotion would be some grave flaw.
She quickly suppressed her response, set the refreshments and tea before him, and settled naturally into the seat across from his.
“Is that so.”
“Yes. Didn’t you miss me, Rozelin?”
“…….”
To Arma’s question, Rozelin fell silent.
There was nothing new in this.
Arma always spoke honestly and posed the same question to her. And Rozelin always answered him with silence in return.
Yet Arma knew: each time he pressed her like this, her cheeks flushed faintly red, and the perpetually still pupils of her eyes trembled.
Still, she never took a single step forward.
It vexed him slightly, and it always unsettled his mind in small ways.
For reasons he couldn’t name…….
It was always this way.
“Have you heard the news about the Bellion Ducal House, then?”
So he wanted, just a little, to wound her.
“……In passing.”
Only Arma could comfort that wound now. There was no one else left by Rozelin’s side.
“Do you have no thought of returning?”
“Why would I go there?”
Rozelin narrowed her brow as though genuinely unable to comprehend.
“Even without me, my Stepmother will manage things herself. And her relations with my father seem quite cordial.”
“There’s talk that the Duke has already informally ceded his title to the Young Duke.”
“Is that so.”
At Arma’s words, Rozelin’s shoulders twitched, but she quickly inclined her head with composed indifference.
“Next time, I’d prefer somewhere further from the city. Quieter.”
“Is that so.”
“Yes.”
Rozelin turned the conversation away as though she wished to speak no further, and Arma laughed softly.
At the sound of his quiet laugh, Rozelin glanced at him sideways.
“Oh, that’s right—winter’s coming soon, so I picked up a blanket. Interested?”
Arma produced a neatly wrapped paper package from one side as if he’d done nothing of the sort, his expression bright and artless.
Rising from his seat, he approached Rozelin and placed the thick blanket into her arms.
“Ah…….”
As the large blanket settled into her embrace, Rozelin’s and Arma’s fingertips brushed lightly against each other.
Rozelin’s eyes widened suddenly.
Arma drew his hand slowly across the back of hers with feigned innocence and smiled softly.
Thump.
Rozelin looked up at him with uncertain eyes, hugging the blanket awkwardly to herself.
‘Just now…….’
Something strange stirred in her chest.
‘What was that?’
Her eyes darted about in evident confusion.
The strange sensation faded quickly enough, which was a relief, but the spot where his hand had touched hers felt peculiarly warm, and it unsettled her.
Rozelin’s brow furrowed at the sensation—whether displeasure or something else, she couldn’t say—and she exhaled slowly.
“Rozelin, are you hurt? Your complexion looks poor.”
Seeing her furrowed brow and flushed cheeks, Arma asked with what seemed like genuine concern.
Rozelin glanced at him and shook her head.
“No, it’s nothing…….”
Rozelin stepped back hastily.
“Thank you. I could have bought one myself.”
“Ah, it looked thick and lovely, so I bought it.”
“No, actually—I prefer wool to down. And wool is warmer than down anyway.”
“……Oh.”
Caught off guard by Rozelin’s unexpected correction, Arma pressed his lips together.
Rozelin, glancing at him as he stood there at a loss for words, tightened her grip on the blanket and added one more thing.
“In any case, thank you.”
“Ah…… Next time I’ll buy a wool blanket.”
“No, I don’t need two blankets.”
“……Well, then what about next year?”
At Arma’s words, Rozelin hesitated, then smiled very faintly and nodded.
“Yes, please do that next year.”
Thump-thump.
Hearing Rozelin’s soft words, Arma’s eyes widened slightly.
“……Oh.”
Without thinking, he raised his hand to his chest.
“……Why? Are you hurt somewhere?”
Rozelin, noticing his hand on his chest, asked with a rigid expression.
Arma shook his head quickly.
“No, I thought I heard you laugh just now.”
“Me?”
Rozelin countered as if he’d said something absurd. She wore her usual indifferent expression, as if nothing had happened.
“Hmm…….”
Arma pressed the space between his brows firmly with his thumb a few times.
‘Have I lost my mind?’
Why had she suddenly seemed beautiful?
No, it was true enough that objectively speaking, Rozelin’s appearance was lovely.
But that wasn’t enough to make his heart race, was it?
Arma let out a hollow laugh at himself, then roughed up his hair and rubbed his face.
“Anyway, it’s fine. I think I was just a little tired.”
Arma waved his hand dismissively with his characteristic smile.
His periodic visits to Rozelin were mere whimsy—the whim of a man visiting an amusing plaything to observe it.
Watching her survive better than expected, keeping an eye on her, was not unpleasant.
He had no desire to watch her meet a gruesome death in some back alley, so there was certainly a part of him that wanted to help her along. Even if she was managing to survive on her own.
“Rozelin.”
“Yes?”
“If I were to disappear, what would you do?”
Perhaps for that reason, Arma tilted his teacup and suddenly posed the question to Rozelin. She, who had been arranging the blanket, went still.

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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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