The Baddest Villainess Is Back - Chapter 127

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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, Side Story 7
Part 3. Garren
Garren Wilbred had, at some point, woven himself into this world.
Slipping in as someone’s child was hardly difficult—something he’d done countless times before, tedious and dull as it was.
Yet even so, it wasn’t an unpleasant pastime.
The only real effort lay in matching his growth pace to others’ changes, in learning to keep step with the rest of them.
He attended what people called the Academy, stepping once more into a stale, familiar world.
Garren knew precisely which position to occupy to avoid making enemies, to live a smooth and well-rounded life.
Approachable. Familiar. Warm.
It was hardly taxing work.
In his dull routine, discovering new facets of human nature now and then was the only real pleasure.
Though rarely, he did occasionally meet humans he found interesting, which was why he often continued this tedious game.
And Garren Wilbred remembered.
The audacious, candid girl he’d met in that Academy—headstrong and utterly frank.
“Ah, good afternoon, Lord Wilbred.”
“…Yes, yes. Good afternoon to you.”
A girl who couldn’t hide how much she liked him, practically radiating it from every pore, looking two or three years younger than the mask he wore.
‘Did I see her at the Debutante Ball?’
Garren Wilbred recalled her family, then smiled faintly and opened his mouth.
“Miss Hyde, of the House of Hyde.”
“Ah…! Yes. My name is Selena Hyde. We met once in etiquette class before, and… if you’re heading somewhere, would it be alright if I came along…?”
He could easily tell that this young woman, still at the flowering age, had taken a liking to him.
He felt no particular way about it. Garren Wilbred wasn’t a bad prospect for a husband, after all.
A junior marquis with decent Academy marks, decent temperament, not arrogant or rude, sharp-eyed—there was nothing surprising about a person her age showing interest in him.
“By all means, do as you prefer.”
To reiterate: he felt nothing in particular about it.
It would have been strange if a young noble lady and lord weren’t developing feelings for each other while attending the Academy.
“I… I like you.”
So when Garren Wilbred received her confession, he wasn’t especially surprised.
Hardly an uncommon occurrence, after all.
“I apologize. I don’t regard you in that way.”
And he knew how to deliver that rejection with a smile on his face, calmly and firmly.
Usually, when he refused like this, they said nothing more.
Many simply cursed him under their breath afterward, or fled, or never showed their face again.
There was no loss in it for him.
Aside from her emotional transparency and the unexpected ease of conversation with her, there was nothing remarkable about her.
“Of course…? I had a feeling that might be it. There’s nothing special about me compared to you.”
“That’s not quite—”
“Next time, I’ll come back as a more wonderful woman and confess again!”
That part was somewhat novel.
Instead of weeping, screaming, reproaching, or turning and fleeing, she stood there with an awkward, embarrassed smile and said that.
Tears rolled down her cheeks as she turned and walked away quickly, yet those bold words stayed with him.
After that, she approached Wilbred as though she’d never confessed at all, attending classes beside him as before.
So straightforward in her bearing that he sometimes wanted to ask if it had even been real.
She often ate with him and sometimes attended classes with him, yet she didn’t burden him the way other girls did.
She didn’t bring him bouquets or demand affection in measure to what she’d poured out on him.
So Wilbred was rare in feeling grateful that she’d set her feelings aside.
But one day, as they moved up in year, she stood before him again with a smiling face.
“Lord Wilbred! I placed in the top ten on this exam!”
“Oh, congratulations. Your effort paid off.”
“…I like you, Lord Wilbred. Won’t you get engaged to me? You don’t even have to be present for the ceremony…!”
“…Don’t you think your confession is rather sudden? We were just heading to lunch.”
“I tried to exploit an opening when you’d let your guard down.”
“I’m sorry, but my answer remains the same. I’m not someone capable of liking anyone. I’m not the vessel to receive your love.”
His answer was much the same as always.
A rejection.
It was only natural. She was comfortable, easy to talk with, the most at-ease he’d been in anyone’s company yet, but that didn’t mean it amounted to love.
In the first place, he never truly understood those vague emotions called affection or love.
Which was doubtless why he’d never attempted marriage in all his long years of moving from place to place.
But the marriages he did enter never lasted long. Most ended in ruin.
The problem lay entirely with him.
Garren Wilbred was not the sort of man to take interest in something as tedious as affection or love.
Rather, he was a creature who pursued sharper stimuli—bloodshed, intellectual sparring, fascinating specimens of humanity.
How could he possibly love a human in the first place?
Did anyone fall in love with an ant?
Even if one did, it would be no different from keeping a pet. It could never be genuine.
Garren Wilbred had no wish to end his relationship with someone he did not entirely dislike beneath so trivial a label.
When came the next confession?
A year later, on the day of his Academy graduation ceremony.
Even after his rejection, their relationship did not change.
Both she and he returned to ordinary daily life as though the confession had never happened.
But just when he thought it forgotten, she confessed again—pressing a massive bouquet into his hands as a graduation gift.
“Congratulations on your graduation, Wilbred.”
“You still won’t call me senior.”
“I don’t want to call someone I love by such a title. So, what if we skip dating and engagement altogether—and just get married?”
“……My, I thought that confession was finished.”
“It could never be. I hate giving up on anything in this world. I have to do my very best. Even if it’s a confession.”
By then, her audacity had left him quite speechless.
Cradling the massive bouquet of roses, the man gazed at the flowers for a long moment, then smiled and spoke.
“Thank you for the graduation wishes. But you’re too good for me. As I’ve said, if you married me, you’d only know unhappiness. And in time, you’d regret it. I rather like our relationship as it stands. My refusal of your confession today is for your own happiness. Still, I’m grateful for your feelings.”
It seemed he had offered an unusually sincere and lengthy rejection.
As though she understood, she did not confess in the year that followed.
Though in that time, they did exchange letters.
Occasional correspondence inquiring after each other’s well-being—nothing of great substance, but steady.
He had thought her resigned to it.
That is, until he attended her graduation and received from her a rather elaborate proposal.
“Wilbred! Will you marry me? I promise to take every care of household matters and ensure you’re troubled by nothing!”
She offered him her diploma and a ring alongside her declaration—a confession so stunning he nearly broke.
Garren Wilbred, still holding out the flowers, went rigid.
That day, it took him an unusually long time to find words of refusal.
It was much the same once she debuted into High Society.
Garren Wilbred was obligated by his station to attend nearly every gathering, and wherever he went, she appeared without fail.
From some point onward, each meeting brought a confession.
“Congratulations on becoming a Marquis. While we’re at it, shall we marry?”
“Must you speak of confessions as though suggesting a drink? As always, I must refuse.”
By then, confession and rejection had become routine.
How many confessions had he received?
In all his years wandering the world, Garren Wilbred had never endured such relentless affection.
In High Society, the two had become the talk of the season.
When would Garren Wilbred finally accept the confession of the Hyde Count’s daughter?
She received no shortage of marriage proposals, and he likewise, yet both turned down every match brought their way.
Years passed in this manner.
It was around the time when both their marriageable years were drawing to a close.
“……Good evening, Marquis.”
Having shed their youthful, awkward adolescence, they had become quite refined young adults.
She, whom he had met at thirteen, had graduated at sixteen and was now twenty-one.
“Come to confess again? You tire of nothing, it seems.”
“Tiring of someone you love would be strange, wouldn’t it?”
She leaned against the terrace railing, gazed up at the sky, and spoke with a smile.
“Today……I’ve come to make my final confession. Father said he wouldn’t allow it any longer—only until this year. So today is the last time I’ll trouble you, Marquis.”
“……I see.”
What had he thought in that moment?
That he was finally free?
Or had he been startled by the tears that filled her eyes—tears she had never shed before him?
“I love you, Marquis.”
……
Or had he, rarely, been swept up in a wave of emotion—something grating and displeasing?

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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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