The Baddest Villainess Is Back - Chapter 17
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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 17
“Well, at any rate! If she brings homemade dishes or cookies and we share refreshments together….”
“I’m not good at cooking.”
Rozelin answered without hesitation to the Duke’s offhand remark.
“And objectively speaking, it would be more efficient time-wise and better suit your palate if a verified chef and pastry chef prepared the food rather than something I made.”
“…….”
It was a fair point.
Of course, food prepared by someone who had studied cooking and pastry work their whole life would naturally taste better.
At the conversation that seemed to drift purposelessly, Bellion closed his mouth firmly.
He was the sort of person who never escaped hearing that he had a difficult temperament wherever he went.
But having received every manner of complaint from his eldest son on that account, he was making an effort not to do the same to his grandchildren.
“In any case, a grandfather has meaning only if his grandchild sometimes confides her troubles in him or seeks his counsel—not if she tries to solve everything alone.”
“What good comes from sharing one’s troubles?”
“Then I could offer counsel and suggest solutions.”
“No. If I share my troubles, there will simply be two troubled people instead of one.”
“…….”
The Duke looked at Rozelin with an expression of bewilderment, then glanced at Ian and Isis.
“Besides, as you can see, I’ve already solved it myself.”
“Heavens, I have no granddaughter luck whatsoever.”
“Not just granddaughter luck, sir. From where I stand, your son luck is also rather—ah, my apologies.”
Rozelin let out a self-deprecating chuckle before abruptly clamping her mouth shut.
The three men stared at her blankly.
She avoided their eyes.
“Well. Once preparations are made, we’ll go to the country estate that Marquis Garen owns—”
“Nonsense! Do you even understand what you’re saying? Do you think Kaluta is the name of some stray dog? You’re a scrawny girl—nobody knows when you might be devoured there. Haven’t you heard that those people eat everything and everyone?”
Ian cut in sharply again, blocking Rozelin’s words.
“Actually, one of the hunting dogs Marquis Garen keeps is named Kaluta.”
“…….”
Ian looked at her with an expression that asked how such a person could possibly exist.
“It’s a joke. Isn’t it amusing? I found the technique in a book called ‘Surely This Sparkling Wit Will Have Them in Stitches,’ and I tried applying it.”
“Yeah, that’s not it.”
“Right. Anyway, Kaluta doesn’t practice cannibalism. So please, continue with what you were saying.”
“…….”
As Rozelin clicked her tongue in response, Ian let out a hollow laugh, his lips twitching.
“Cousin, there’ve been unsettling rumors lately, so I’m also against you moving out on your own.”
“Marquis Garen said he would provide an escort.”
“That’s exactly why I’m asking—why is that man doing anything for you?! What are you to Marquis Garen?!”
“I’m someone who crossed into the Parallel World with him.”
Rozelin said it.
‘I suppose that makes me something to him.’
At Rozelin’s matter-of-fact words, Ian’s jaw dropped open.
“Anyway! There’s nothing good that will come from you going, so remember that! Tsk—when an adult speaks, you should just say ‘understood’ and leave it at that. Where do you keep finding reasons to object?”
At his rigid lecture, Rozelin’s brow furrowed.
“I think we should discuss this another time. I’ll be going now.”
An unconscious Cherty, Isis carrying him on his back, and Ian jabbering away incessantly.
Unable to endure the total chaos, she slipped on the indoor shoes the servants had brought, lowered her head, and turned to leave.
“Ah, Your Grace.”
“Add grandfather to the address.”
“Yes, Your Grace Grandfather.”
“…….”
Bellion too made an expression asking what manner of creature stood before him.
“Ah, Your Grace Grandfather. My uncle is also a Maklusa. There’s evidence on the soles of his feet.”
Rozelin, having lobbed this bomb without warning, stepped out into the garden.
“……What, did you say?”
“Uh……?”
“You little—”
“Hey, hey! Hey! You rotten liar!! Hey!!! Where did that lie come from! Deny it!! No! Your father’s not a Maklusa! No! Dad! Dad! Ow, no, I’m saying he’s not!”
With screams echoing as background music, she strolled leisurely back to her room.
A day later, a servant told her the news.
Ian Bellion was a “Luke” of the Maklusa.
* * *
[Come find me right now! I’ll kill you!!]
The harsh, angry scrawl of the handwriting made it clear the sender was seething with rage.
For two weeks now, Rozelin had been receiving notes like this each morning, and each time she’d narrow her eyes at them before pushing them aside.
What came next in the stack were invitation cards—to banquets, tea parties, and the like.
She set aside all of them except for the invitation that had come from the Imperial Capital, which she kept.
What remained was a letter from Garen, and…….
[It’s the rarest flower in the world. A bloom even Garen couldn’t procure.]
[I didn’t wait for anyone to bring it. I went out myself and bought it. If you leave, you won’t receive such things anymore.]
[I was passing an expensive jeweler and thought of you, so I bought this as well. They tell me Kaluta doesn’t even have gems like these.]
[
You’re frail—if you go to a place like Kaluta, you’d certainly collapse at once…….
Kaluta is where the savages are. It doesn’t suit you.]
Now there were only notes that had taken on a different meaning.
Rozelin laughed hollowly.
‘……Should I have been a bit more honest back then?’
Even as she thought it, when she looked back at how things stood, she doubted it would have gone any better.
Since she’d learned that patience wasn’t everything, whenever anger flared, she’d grab someone by the hair first or slap them across the face and deal with the consequences later.
Her father had never paid her any attention, and when her grandfather and uncles tried to speak to her, she ignored them outright.
She understood it now.
That it had been a pathetic attempt by her younger self to build a pride that never existed in the first place.
That if she’d asked for help back then, she might have met a kinder death.
But whenever anyone touched her, she only became more vicious.
She’d believed that if others treated her cruelly, treating them worse in return was how you won.
Before she knew it, every filthy rumor had spread through high society.
Thinking she could manage anything on her own, petty retaliation found her the moment she left the Duke’s house.
It became hard to find even a single job, impossible to afford a single meal.
The nobles had used their influence to block everything.
So she sold information to hostile families and nobles for revenge and coin.
She didn’t hesitate to use people and discard them to gather that information.
Of course, there were times when she used those who trusted her as shields.
When she became a fugitive, she hid her identity and accepted the kindness of villagers to survive—and then watched an entire village be slaughtered.
She did it even knowing they would die.
Just to buy her own life one more day.
Rozelin pushed the letter to the side.
She hadn’t even opened Garen’s letter.
The last letter was…….
A letter sealed with golden wax stamped with the Imperial crest.
‘……The Third Prince.’
She exhaled softly and opened it with the letter opener.
[To the Lady Rozelin Bellion.
The pleasant spring weather continues day after day. I hope you, too, are savoring the warmth of this lovely season.
I write this letter to request your family’s permission to pay a visit to the Bellion Family.
I have a gift for you, and there are matters I wish to discuss with you as well.
Of course, I shall adjust to whatever time is most convenient for you. Should you have no particular preference, might I call upon you this Friday around noon?
I hope this letter does not take up too much of your precious time.
I would be grateful if you might grant me the opportunity to spend time with you.
-Arma Dianitas-]
It was an impeccably courteous letter.
So courteous, in fact, that it felt rude to refuse.
Rozelin leaned back against the chair with a soft thud and tilted her head back.
‘It’s so peaceful.’
So peaceful—far too peaceful.
So peaceful that, well…….
She found herself wondering if this was right.
She could guess what Garen’s letter said.
She tore it open roughly and skimmed the contents.
[You’re being too much. I’m hurt.]
Just one line.
It wasn’t hard to guess what he meant.
‘I doubt she managed to secure the Nolang Mine.’
It was obvious without even looking.
Rozelin let out a scoff, tore the note to shreds, and scattered them carelessly across the table before dragging over a stack of newspapers as tall as a mountain.
‘Still, so far the details I remember haven’t changed much…….’
The political landscape of Kaluta, the current king, the history—it was all strikingly similar.
The subtle differences could be covered well enough by the intelligence Rozelin had already gathered beforehand.
Since she still knew the future, it stood to reason that the Marquis Garen would pursue what he needed.
Among those opportunities, the Nolang Mine was the most lucrative bargain one could obtain cheaply and easily.
‘For now they’ll think it’s just an inferior amber gemstone deposit…….’
But in truth, it was a hidden jewel.
Those impure amber gems would actually be revealed days from now to be a special mineral called Yellonite.
In her original world, the Robert Baron Family had acquired it for three hundred and forty million Olang.
Honestly, the Robert Baron Family had gotten it for a pittance.
Thanks to that, the family had practically rolled in wealth—which the Baron Robert, who’d been flirting with her, had then squandered away.
‘Now that I think about it, the gala being held next week…….’
Baron Robert would be attending that too.
‘How entertaining.’
Rozelin smiled gracefully, thinking things wouldn’t be dull after all.
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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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