The Baddest Villainess Is Back - Chapter 128

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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 One, Side Story 8
Had he offered his usual refusal, it would have ended there. But that day, irritation flared at her refusal to yield.
“…Do I really appeal to you that much? I can’t recall doing anything particularly noteworthy for you.”
“You may not remember, but during my debutante season I lost my handkerchief and was crying, and you found it for me once.”
The whispered confession that she’d favored him since then grated on him more than he cared to admit.
He had shown a consideration unlike himself—offering her the chance not to see a cold, cruel truth.
“Even if we marry, I will never love you in the way you hope. I am not capable of such things. Your days will consist of nothing but solitude in that vast estate.”
Garren Wilbred extended his hand, bringing it slowly to her cheek, and leaning close to her face, he spoke in a tender voice.
Yet his expression remained devoid of emotion.
With the trademark smile that usually adorned his features now absent, Count Hyde’s daughter opened her eyes wide in surprise.
“You will come to expect nothing from me. One day you will think it better to have remained as you were.”
Garren Wilbred spoke with gentle words and a frozen face, his thumb caressing her cheek slowly.
Even at that dry touch, her cheek flushed, and Garren observed it with the detachment of a naturalist.
He had been an observer and a bystander for a span of time too vast for any human mind to fathom, and to him all humanity were merely ants under observation.
“…Marquis?”
“I’m glad if you’re prepared for that. I do need someone to maintain the estate during my absences. But I cannot give you anything you desire.”
It should have been no answer at all to her sweet confession, yet she laughed openly.
So radiantly happy that even he, who had orchestrated the moment, felt embarrassed.
On the last day of that year, the two whose love was proclaimed to be the romance of the century held their wedding.
* * *
“…Are you going out again today?”
“Yes, I have matters to attend to. I may not return for several days, so don’t wait for me.”
“…I understand.”
Garren did not torment her outright.
But he was a busy man, and around that time particularly compelling affairs had arisen, so his interest in her withered away.
It meant his absences from home grew ever more frequent.
They maintained a cordial enough arrangement—adequate meals shared, adequate conversations exchanged—but she, transformed from Count Hyde’s daughter into the Marquis Wilbred’s wife, must have come to realize this was not what she had imagined.
She always waited in the same place to greet him, and she fulfilled her duties as mistress of the marquis’s estate flawlessly.
When he wished it, she would spend time with him, though his interest was minimal.
He possessed desires, and he required pleasures—though not the primitive sort that move most men. Of course, he required stimulation too.
War, combat, struggle—all of it kindled his interest.
His days away from home outnumbered those within it, and her smile, so ready once, began to fade with each passing season.
‘I did warn her that position would have suited her better,’ he reflected.
A relationship of cordial meetings and measured conversation.
One where his true nature need never surface, where a fashioned facade sufficed.
Those who failed to recognize this as kindness invariably tried to penetrate his depths.
“There is a gathering in the Imperial Capital. I suppose I should attend—are you free?”
“…Of course, absolutely.”
A fragile, foolish woman who overjoyed at a single word offered, who smiled if he reached out to brush her cheek.
It struck him as peculiar that even now, degraded to this state, she had not abandoned hope.
The gatherings themselves yielded little of substance.
He was occupied in discourse with men of consequence while she merely trailed in his wake.
Still, for some years after the marriage, there was only a polite distance between them—nothing approaching catastrophe.
When was it?
Ah, when Count and Countess Hyde were involved in a carriage accident.
The Hyde family maintained decent enough relations amongst themselves—they indulged their headstrong daughter even as she made confession after confession beyond the proper age for marriage, feigning exasperation all the while.
Garren, for his part, was a man of propriety. Upon hearing the news, he traveled to the Count’s Domain to pay his respects.
Yet he was a busy man.
He had several enterprises underway and had to divide his time between the Marquis’s Domain and the capital, so he could not spare an extended absence.
She said she would remain until her younger brother assumed the title of Count, at which point Garren readily granted permission and returned to his domain ahead of her.
Letters arrived regularly with news, though his replies could be counted on one hand.
Truthfully, he had nothing in particular to say.
He was too occupied to answer letters meticulously detailing what she had eaten, the weather, the servants’ misadventures, and her own trivial doings.
She returned to the marquis’s estate roughly half a year later.
After that, she frequently asked him to spend time with her, to sleep alongside her, to spare her his moments.
That day was no different from any other.
“Selena, I am occupied. I have little time for leisure with you. If your unease stems from a lack of composure, you are welcome to remain longer at the Count’s Domain.”
“…I need you to be here.”
“I warned you before the marriage. I cannot give you anything you desire.”
“…I’m not asking for constant companionship. Just a few days starting today—couldn’t you manage that?”
Garren slowly withdrew his hand from her grasp.
“I told you so. The day will come when you regret things weren’t left as they were.”
……
“Don’t exhaust me with this. You’ve never been a burden to me.”
Garren had known from before the marriage that she would inevitably regret it.
And indeed, she had fallen into despair.
His thoughts had not been mistaken. There exists no human who does not grow weary.
Had he felt a base satisfaction at that fact?
The face of a woman who had always murmured of love with happiness now twisted like someone confronting reality for the first time.
“……Yes, I’m sorry.”
After that day, she no longer approached him.
She made no unnecessary requests, and in turn, there came a day when she no longer smiled at the sight of him.
She stopped suggesting they dine together or take tea, stopped asking him to attend galas, stopped asking him to stay by her side. Yet she always appeared where her duty as wife required, and the management of the Marquis’s Domain suffered no neglect.
She simply seemed to have understood reality and grown distant.
He thought it was not unpleasant. They maintained an appropriate distance, exchanged pleasantries when conversation was necessary, and that was enough.
And as time passed and they both grew accustomed to that distance, the realm began to grow turbulent.
Several great houses were shaken by spies stealing information and techniques, and a peculiar organization called Marlux revealed itself to the world.
The imperial Duke’s Estate did not merely falter—it began to crumble.
Damage from demons made the people’s hearts uneasy, and inexplicable fires consumed entire villages across the realm.
And war with Kaluta loomed on the horizon.
It had been quite some time since anything pleasant occurred. When war broke out, he was invariably called to participate.
Garren was pleased that exciting developments had cascaded upon him at last after so long.
When one has lived for a great span of time, the ordinary events of the world become nothing but tedium.
No human takes endless joy in watching ants crawl across the ground.
Around that time, skirmishes both large and small erupted, and various nobles were conscripted.
And the young Count Hyde, who had been sent to battle, died.
He was her brother.
It was around then that an inexplicable plague began to spread, and Garren learned that Selena had contracted it only when he received word that she had collapsed, coughing blood.
The fighting in the region where he had been stationed had begun to subside, and when he returned to his Domain, what greeted him was a pale Selena lying in bed.
“Selena, are you well?”
……Yes.
In the time since he had last seen her, she had grown gaunt. Dark circles shadowed the hollows beneath her eyes.
“If your condition has been poor, you should have consulted a physician. Why did you let it deteriorate to this point?”
“I was rather busy.”
……Busy with what?”
“My lord, I believe this is a plague. If you contract it, what will you do? Please, go attend to your duties. You’re occupied enough as it is.”
“There’s no risk of that.”
He could not possibly fall ill to something as insignificant as human disease.
She turned her head away without speaking and closed her eyes.
“Wait a moment. I’ve heard there is a physician who has developed a Cure. I’ll obtain it for you…….”
“That’s not necessary. With proper food and rest, I’ll recover soon enough.”
Even after he had returned, without meeting his eyes even once, she answered in a dry voice.
“Don’t make me into the man who let his wife die. Simply wait.”
“Couldn’t you give it to my brother instead? A letter arrived—the war situation seems dire, and his health is poor.”
Garren, who had been turning to leave, froze. His expression darkened. He had received word of the death only recently.
“……Selena, your brother…….”
His lips moved soundlessly before he turned away without finishing his words.
‘It’s already advanced considerably.’
First, he needed to obtain the medicine.
But the medicine he brought never passed her lips.

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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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