The Baddest Villainess Is Back - Chapter 69

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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 69
“……Ah.”
So that was why she’d slipped in after dinner and lingered about so restlessly.
The memory surfaced of how she’d said she wanted to hold hands and sleep, wanting to do all the things she’d never done before, having returned to childhood after so long.
Rozelin nodded.
“Do this for me often, please.”
She added it softly, hoping that even when the real Rozelin returned, her father would do the same for her.
“Otherwise I’d grow up thinking Father hated me, run away from home, and die.”
“……What kind of thing is that to say to your parent?”
“From what I can tell, I’d just hide away in some musty basement room again. Stop pitying yourself. There are people far more wretched than you…….”
Rozelin let out a small yawn and closed her drowsy eyes.
Whether it was because her body was weaker than it had been as an adult, or simply because she was small again, she could feel sleep claiming her more easily.
Soon Rozelin’s breathing evened out into a gentle rhythm.
Cherti watched her small chest rise and fall in steady measure, then carefully placed his hand over the child’s heart.
Thump, thump, thump.
He felt the small but forceful heartbeat beneath his palm.
‘She’s alive.’
His child is alive. She hasn’t died. Not with his hand on her, not holding hers—she doesn’t die.
“……Have you ever regretted that I was born?”
“……What?”
“It’s nothing much—I’ve just always wanted to ask. If I hadn’t existed, you and Mother might have been happy together.”
Cherti Bellion was no fool. He understood what answer the child was seeking.
“There’s nothing to regret…….”
Her death had been his doing, not the child’s fault. Perhaps the fact that she was born so fragile was also his fault.
Rozelin’s mother had been poisoned by Cherti Bellion’s toxin and refused to take the antidote. The antidote contained compounds harmful to the unborn child.
Cherti Bellion had researched, but time was not enough.
She chose the child.
Day after day the detoxification was delayed, and because of it Rozelin was born while her mother died.
Cherti Bellion had done everything he could to slow the poison’s progression, but his still-imperfect control had proven insufficient.
So perhaps Rozelin had already been poisoned in the womb.
The fact that she was born so frail and suffered from Fever Illness—all of it might have been his fault.
“There’s nothing to regret. Your coming to me was blessing enough…….”
Cherti Bellion whispered as though being drawn into darkness, his voice small and distant.
When he first heard that the child had come, he had been so joyful and worried that he’d lost sleep for nights.
“Are you all right with me being your father? Have you ever resented…….”
He pressed his lips firmly shut.
It was a conversation the sleeping Rozelin would never hear anyway.
But he couldn’t take back words already spoken.
Only as darkness settled could Cherti Bellion afford to be more honest.
Without a listener, he let his true feelings surface.
To live as he did—unable to speak truthfully even when he wished to—he had never complained about that reality.
And yet Cherti Bellion had been grateful for the affection the child showed him.
He never imagined he would hear the words “I love you” or “I like you” from her lips.
And why would he expect it? He had never given her anything resembling true love.
He had been consumed with the single determination not to kill this child, and in doing so had left her lonely.
“……I love you too, little one.”
At last he spoke his honest heart.
He brushed the hair from Rozelin’s face and was just rising to leave the room when—
Rozelin’s eyes snapped open.
“…….”
“…….”
Two clear, wide-awake eyes met his in the silence.
Cherti Bellion’s usually impassive face began to flush red. Rozelin let out a deep sigh.
“I didn’t know hearing Father’s true feelings would be this mortifying.”
“……Can’t you adopt a speech pattern more befitting your age—something cuter?”
‘Difficult man.’
Rozelin’s eyes narrowed as though questioning what he could possibly expect.
“Daddy.”
Cherti Bellion, who had been rubbing at his reddened face in embarrassment, froze and stared at her.
“……What?”
But whenever she met those indifferent, dry eyes—so at odds with her cute manner of speaking—she would falter.
It was as if a wooden doll had suddenly begun to talk.
“I’ve resented you before.”
Silence fell.
The room went utterly still.
“I used to wish you were someone funny like that, Father.”
Cherti’s eyes began to tremble as he bowed his head.
“I wished you were the kind of father who took us on picnics, who was there for his family.”
As Rozelin continued, Cherti’s fingertips began to shake.
“I wished you were someone who held me close and told me he loved me.”
……
“I wished you were someone who sometimes read me fairy tales before bed.”
Cherti stood trembling, his head still bowed, his mouth barely able to form words.
“I……”
“I’m not done yet.”
Rozelin reached out and caught hold of Cherti’s sleeve as he turned to leave.
“More……”
“There’s more?”
Cherti bit down hard on his lip.
“Yes. I wished you were someone who knew how to present himself better, someone less gloomy—at least someone like the Marquis Garen Wilbred.”
“I might as well just say I hate you,” Cherti muttered under his breath, as if ready to bolt from the room at any moment.
He spoke quietly, but with the energy of someone about to flee.
“But what can I do? You’re my father, after all.”
Rozelin laughed with innocent brightness.
“So from now on, hold my hand more often, keep visiting like this, and come out of the basement with me. I’m lonely.”
Rozelin spread both arms wide at her sides. After a moment of hesitation, Cherti pulled her into his embrace.
“……Yes. I will.”
“Anyway, I still love you, Father. You’re still my favorite.”
“……Yes. Thank you. But why have you been speaking like that ever since earlier?”
“You asked me to use a cute way of speaking that matched my age.”
Though that didn’t mean she should round out her words while keeping her expression dry and weathered.
“That’s not what I meant.”
“Understood.”
Finding him rather exacting, Rozelin nonetheless let out a small laugh.
* * *
“It’s an honor to meet you, Lady Rozelin. I am Arma Dianitas.”
“I am Rozelin Bellion, Your Highness.”
On what was perhaps the last day of this world, Rozelin had come to the Imperial Capital.
“I’ve heard your health is quite fragile. Are you feeling well today?”
“As you can see.”
It was a reasonably mild autumn day.
Yet Rozelin’s appearance was somewhat absurd.
Over a winter dress lay a thick cloak and shawl, and atop that, ear muffs from who knows which country.
From a distance, one might have mistaken her for a snowman.
Rozelin gave Arma high marks for not laughing the moment he laid eyes on her.
“I hope you’ll forgive me for saying so, but you’re adorable.”
“Yes.”
Rozelin nodded with casual indifference.
‘Last time, I was so confused for over a month that we didn’t meet until after sunset.’
This time, because she had awakened right away, their meeting was scheduled much sooner than before.
‘Now that I think about it, the Second Prince said I’d be attacked by assassins around this time.’
Rozelin saw a boy who was far smaller, younger, and more adorable than she remembered.
The nine-year-old was less timid than she had recalled, and he looked directly at her with a clarity she hadn’t quite expected.
‘Oh, should I return the compliment now that I’ve received one?’
Rozelin looked Arma over from head to toe.
“Your Highness the Third Prince is adorable too.”
“……Pardon?”
“You’re adorable. More importantly, I’m restless—would you take a walk with me?”
“Of course! Please come this way.”
Despite his youth, the boy escorted her with nearly perfect courtesy, his eyes remarkably clear and alert.
“I’m relieved you’re not gloomy.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“My father is such a somber man. I’ve always hoped my husband might be somewhat less so.”
“I, I, m-my, my…….”
Arma swayed on his feet, his lips working soundlessly, and Rozelin froze.
‘Right—we’re not even engaged yet.’
Rozelin hurried to smooth things over.
“Oh, I didn’t mean His Highness. I was speaking of my ideal—my future husband.”
“……I see. Your future, husband.”
At her words, Arma Dianitas seemed to stumble, then nodded slowly, something bitter crossing his face.
“Come, let me show you the Greenhouse Garden. Since it’s heated, you may find some of those layers unnecessary.”
“Thank you.”
Rozelin led Arma toward the Greenhouse Garden.
‘Now that I think of it, I always had to dress this heavily as a child whenever I went out.’
Every time Rozelin ventured outside, she’d been required to wear such excessive layers.
In truth, it had all been little more than a show of concern.
‘Was today the last time?’
If things went as expected, she might return to normal by tonight.
After all, tomorrow was the day I would regain consciousness after a month.
“Arma Dianitas?”
The moment they stepped into the garden.
Crack!
A sound like some bizarre mechanical screech split the air, and her body was hurled backward.

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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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