The Baddest Villainess Is Back - Chapter 30

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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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Chapter 30
To Garen, money was something he could earn in whatever quantity he wished, so spending a billion or two hardly troubled him.
From the start, material wealth held little meaning for him.
The Ducal House, no doubt, was much the same.
Garen Wilbred had never taken a particular interest in Roselin from the beginning.
At first, her only way of resisting or retaliating against him was to express nothing but anger and irritation.
It was a time when she was that naive.
Because of it, her reputation in High Society was quite poor, and Garen, who despised foolishness, had no reason to pay her any attention.
He first took notice of her when Roselin fled the Duke’s Residence and suffered retaliation from the nobility.
One day, she had intercepted a business venture that Garen Wilbred was conducting.
More precisely, she had sold information about a business project that Garen Wilbred was promoting to another Count’s House that disliked him.
The Count’s House had poached people related to the venture without Garen’s knowledge and seized the business under better terms.
Garen Wilbred, who had never been outmaneuvered in earnest before, had begun with a hollow laugh that day and ended up laughing heartily.
At first, he thought it was the work of the Count’s House and tried to investigate their background and retaliate.
But a month later, another family suffered a loss, and three months after that, yet another family wept openly.
What proved Roselin’s sharp mind was that she inflicted almost no harm on the house from which she had sold the information.
The nobility have pride.
Certainly, none of them would want to bear the shame of having purchased information from a cast-out princess.
Moreover, since the ventures begun with the purchased information largely flourished, they had no reason to speak.
And because they stayed silent, the families that suffered losses had no way to discover the source of the information.
Of course, Garen Wilbred was quite persistent and did not give up.
At first, he began his pursuit out of rare frustration, and when the number of similar victims, including himself, reached about three, he continued the investigation out of curiosity.
And he coerced, wooed, and threatened the Count’s House that had seized his business until finally he could draw out the story.
The moment the Count spoke the name “Princess Bellion” for the first time, he found it utterly delightful.
Garen Wilbred laughed broadly for the first time since his wife’s death.
From that moment on, Roselin became the object of Garen Wilbred’s interest.
In truth, even after identifying Roselin as the culprit and tracking her movements, it was not easy to grasp what she was doing.
From what he learned, she had not lived a particularly pleasant life.
In the first one or two years after her expulsion, it seemed she had endured considerable hardship.
But instead of giving up, she had gritted her teeth and persevered, and rather than submit or capitulate, she seemed determined to gnaw at them with the information she had gathered and overheard.
Roselin, awakened by being cast into a harsh world, possessed a keen mind.
She eluded capture well and carefully wove her web so that she sold information only to families that would not harm each other.
With the money from selling information, she hired guards and lived a prosperous life.
‘What surprised me was that she was still meeting the Third Prince even after her expulsion.’
To be precise, it seemed the Third Prince kept seeking her out and meeting with her.
‘He probably provided her with information as well.’
Yes, that was how Roselin survived.
She had fallen from the most exalted station to the lowest depths, became a peddler of information, and yet with that money flaunted her luxury and indulgence openly.
Having survived that way, she had flung filth at him, at the nobility, and at all those who had cornered her.
Thinking of it lifted his spirits, but as he gazed at the firmly closed door, his heart sank heavily.
Garen, who now stood before the closed door holding the ornament she had sent him, straightened his clothes and knocked.
Knock, knock.
“Come in.”
Garen opened the door at the sound of her voice and entered.
The woman with water-blue hair, holding a box, stopped and opened her eyes wide when she saw Garen enter.
“…What brings you at this hour?”
“Oh, it appears the Baroness has already enjoyed her afternoon tea. I had asked her to reserve the evening tea time for me, you see.”
Garen spoke with feigned regret, his eyes on the traces of tea time.
She glanced down reluctantly at the partially devastated desserts, then looked back at Garen.
“When will you grant me a divorce?”
To a question that now came like a greeting, Garen simply smiled without words.
“We shall not divorce.”
“I can’t breathe.”
“Perhaps take a walk then.”
The Baroness closed her mouth firmly, watching Garen glibly change the subject.
“I’m telling you that I can’t breathe when I’m with you.”
Her water-blue eyes, identical to her hair, fixed on him with resentment.
“…And that is precisely why I call on you only once a day, at tea time. Do bear with me.”
Garen set the box down on the table as he spoke.
“You never had any interest in me, consumed as you were by your work. I don’t understand why you’re suddenly like this.”
“I told you already—I’m fond of you.”
“What game are you playing now? Please, just leave me alone. If you won’t divorce me, pretend you don’t know me like you used to.”
The Duchess, usually so composed and gentle, squeezed her eyes shut and cried out.
Garen remained silent, wearing that practiced smile of his as always.
Instead, he pushed the box he’d brought across the table toward her.
“There’s a child who wanted me to give this to you. Said she’d like to be your daughter.”
At Garen’s words, the Duchess’s eyes widened dramatically.
“……Suddenly wanting to adopt a child—what does that even mean?”
“Just as I said. If you’ll join me for tea next time, I’ll explain.”
At his words, laced with amusement, she pressed her lips firmly together.
She opened the box with a reluctant expression, then froze, her eyes growing wide.
The Duchess looked between Garen and the jewelry in disbelief, and after a long moment, her lips trembled.
“Your Grace, why are you doing this……?”
Garen did not answer her question.
“Since I was the one who insisted on this marriage in the first place, I never resented you for being indifferent. Still, I’m only human—it was difficult for me too. So I gradually let go, and by now I’ve given up entirely. I’d finally released it all, and yet……”
“…….”
“If you disliked the talk of divorce, I won’t bring it up again. I never intended to tarnish your honor, so please—just stop.”
The Duchess spoke almost pleadingly. A faint tremor passed through Garen’s eyes.
Garen, who had been sitting before the frightened woman, remained there in silence for a long while before slowly rising to his feet.
“I’ll come again at this time tomorrow.”
“…….”
“There’s much I wish to discuss, but I’ll wait until you’re ready. Tell me whenever you are.”
At Garen’s words, the Duchess fell silent.
“That jewelry was purchased by Roselin. Though I dislike it myself, she bought it with you in mind, so don’t discard it.”
“…….”
“I hope you have a pleasant day, madam.”
The Duchess kept her mouth firmly shut until Garen closed the door and left.
Even after his departure, she stared down at the jewelry in silence for some time.
* * *
“What, what—what did you just say?”
Ian Bellion, caught off guard by Roselin’s sudden arrival and her shocking declaration, floundered for words.
One of his eyes was swollen black, gauze was plastered across his cheek, and his face was so puffy it was hard to tell who he was.
It seemed he truly was undergoing daily “spiritual education” under the guise of sparring with the Duke himself.
“Quit the Marlock Company.”
“Wait! Before that—!”
Ian Bellion shrieked, his voice slurring.
“Ah.”
Roselin let out a flat murmur.
“If you don’t quit, you’ll die soon.”
“Wait, no—before that! And why aren’t you calling me uncle properly?!”
With his swollen face and frantic gesturing, Ian Bellion looked ridiculous; Roselin’s expression soured, her brow furrowing in annoyance.
‘Before that?’
Ugh, how tedious.
Roselin decided to simply repeat what she’d said earlier.
“I saw a future where Uncle dies, and because of you, the entire Ducal House falls to ruin. Grandfather, Father, Uncle—they all die.”
“…….”
She spoke again, this time in a flat, measured tone.

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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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