The Baddest Villainess Is Back - Chapter 29

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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 29
“How old are you?”
The boy who had been studying Roselin intently for some time finally spoke.
“Seventeen. And you?”
“I’m twelve. My name is Batar. I have an older brother—he’s seventeen, his name is Bayan—and a twin sister.”
“Ah, Batar. A good na—”
“He prefers meat to vegetables but isn’t picky about food. Rather than swordplay, he’s more adept at Fist Combat, which suits him better—it’s more manly and spirited. He has a bit of a hotheaded streak, but he’s exceptionally sharp and his combat instincts are unmatched. Handsome face and build, naturally. Of course, that’s based on now, so he’ll only get stronger. He’d like to have at least three children, though he says he respects his partner’s opinion. His ideal woman is beautiful and wise, someone steadfast who’ll stand by his side.”
Roselin faltered at the boy suddenly rattling off this unnecessarily long self-introduction.
‘Wait—did he say he “heard”?’
This wasn’t so much a self-introduction as it was someone introducing another person.
“My older brother is someone I think quite highly of, too.”
Ah—so here comes the part where he pitches his brother.
‘Is this what they call promoting your older brother…?’
Roselin looked down at the boy, Batar, with a bemused expression.
Judging by the pleased and satisfied look on his face, he seemed to be in a very good mood.
“In any case, if that’s what you want, I’ll do it specially for you.”
It was awkward phrasing.
Roselin gave a light shrug.
“But you really will take me there, won’t you?”
“I will. I don’t lie.”
“…I thought the Empire was full of cowardly, treacherous people, but it seems there are decent ones like you after all.”
Batar murmured this, then shivered suddenly and hastened to add more.
“By the way, that last bit was thinking aloud, so I dropped the formal speech—just so you know.”
Though what he was doing now wasn’t exactly formal either.
“But I’m grateful you saved me.”
The boy offered his thanks straightforwardly.
“…Yes.”
A faint smile crossed her lips.
A flush rose across Batar’s swarthy face.
‘My brother and I have the same taste, so I’m sure he’ll like her very much too.’
Roselin pulled out the key she’d received earlier.
“You won’t kill me if I unlock these Shackles, right?”
“Of course not! You’re my Benefactor. And I’ve been taught that I must always repay a Benefactor’s kindness.”
Batar spoke each word deliberately.
Roselin looked at the child who, by rights, should have been dead—who, in the world she came from, was dead—and nodded.
“Yes.”
Roselin answered briefly, then unlocked Batar’s Shackles.
As the Shackles binding his wrists and ankles fell away, Batar’s eyes widened.
The freed boy grinned with the savage expression of a predator.
The Kaluta Tribe.
A dangerous ethnic minority possessing superhuman strength—each member commanding the force of a hundred soldiers, a military force beyond ordinary reckoning.
Even children possessed enough strength to kill adult men.
The famous anecdote of a small kingdom that foolishly kidnapped a Kaluta king’s daughter and tried to blackmail them, only to be annihilated by the Kaluta king himself and his select guard, was well known.
“I look forward to working with you, Batar.”
Roselin extended her hand.
Roselin intended to make a private arrangement with them, separate from any imperial dealings.
“I do too!”
A small hand clasped hers.
It was Roselin’s belated answer to the request that Isidis Belion had coldly cast aside.
* * *
“My lord Duke, a package has arrived from Lady Roselin Belion.”
“…A package?”
Garen Wilbred’s eyes narrowed.
He had nothing to receive from Roselin.
“Leave it.”
At his terse command, the servant bowed and withdrew.
Garen Wilbred saw the ribbon-bound box and the small letter resting on top of it.
[I’m sorry for spending so much money. About half of what I used will go toward a gift for the Duchess on your behalf—since you’re too tactless to think of it yourself.
I don’t like you, but I know what you’ve done isn’t trivial.
Truthfully, I wouldn’t care if you fell in the street and rolled around in a dungheap, but I want the Duchess to be happy.
Thanks to you, I too have had much to think about. I’m particularly grateful for that.
Garen Wilbred let out a low chuckle as he read the brief note.
She certainly hadn’t been verbose with her thanks.
Garen slowly lowered his gaze and opened the box.
Inside lay a complete set of jewelry—a necklace, earrings, and a ring all crafted from rose diamonds with a soft pink hue shot through with crimson.
……
The expression on Garen Wilbred’s face grew subtle as he took in the contents. It was certainly the sort of thing a woman would appreciate.
“It seems she hasn’t yet learned how to look after herself.”
Garen Wilbred studied the certificate of authenticity enclosed with the letter as he spoke. He could easily picture Roselin—stoic-faced, attending to her business and nothing more—going about her errand.
‘She said she was going to save a slave.’
She would have gone and saved a royal of the Kaluta Tribe who ought to have been dead.
If Garen Wilbred himself had needed to succeed in his dealings with the Kaluta, he would have done the same. It would be efficient.
But there was no way she’d spent 1.5 billion on a single child.
So somewhere along the way, she must have clashed with the Kaluta king’s half-brother—the one who’d originally planned to buy and kill that slave of the Kaluta.
In the course of that, the auction house staff must have apprehended them, and she’d paid to have them transported back to the Kaluta on some pretext or other.
‘The opening bid for the rose diamonds was 500 million, wasn’t it?’
She’d likely purchased it at around that price.
That too would have been an attempt to smooth over the fact that she’d spent rather a lot of her own money. After all, the rose diamonds had become the most famous item from this auction.
Garen Wilbred had little difficulty inferring Roselin’s movements.
Roselin’s way of thinking was quite similar to his own. Which was why they clashed so often—and why it was so interesting.
Unlike foolish men, she grew when taught, and when shown one thing, she understood ten. That was the sort of person she was.
“She’ll certainly like it, then.”
Garen Wilbred recalled his wife fretting over her jewelry box not long ago, took up the box, and rose from his seat.
From the beginning, Roselin had shown no interest in herself. Nor did she show interest in others.
Even during pursuits, if it served her escape, she wouldn’t hesitate to wound herself or take dangerous gambles.
And yet, whatever she held in her hands, she would naturally pass to another without hesitation.
It wasn’t that she was particularly kind or altruistic.
It was more like: when three people were present and someone gave her something, she would pass it along to the next person as though it were the obvious thing to do.
As though what was given could never belong to her.
“She could have bought more, for that matter.”
Garen murmured softly to himself, took up the box, and left his office.

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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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