The Baddest Villainess Is Back - Chapter 76

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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 76
“Ah.”
“I heard you departed before the plague even broke out.”
The older man’s voice carried the tone of someone with many questions about the world, and Rozelin lifted her shoulder in a shrug.
“It’s the Abyss.”
“The Abyss?”
“Yes, I awakened it.”
Rozelin added just enough to the explanation.
“I’m curious what sort of Abyss possesses such mysterious power.”
Rozelin shrugged again.
“Isn’t the Abyss rather a trade secret?”
“Of course it is. I wasn’t asking you to tell me.”
She watched the man smile reassuringly, and Rozelin added a word of acceptance.
“Actually, I was joking. There’s no such thing as the Abyss. The truth is I simply died once and came back to life.”
The Captain of Guards hesitated at her words.
He let out a low chuckle, as if he’d heard something amusing.
“An old friend I once knew turned out to actually be a deity playing games. That friend asked me to help Kaluta, so I left to do it.”
“It seems the lady of Bellion enjoys a jest. There’s no need to explain the Abyss if you’d rather not.”
Assuming Rozelin was lying because she didn’t want to discuss the Abyss, the Captain of Guards answered with amusement lacing his voice.
“The Abyss needn’t be revealed unless there’s a particular reason for it.”
She shrugged.
‘But it’s true.’
This was precisely why she had no desire to be frank about it.
“Did you find it entertaining?”
“Yes, I did.”
“It seems I’ve inherited more of a sense of humor than my father.”
Rozelin replied.
At her words, the Captain of Guards let out another soft laugh.
As Rozelin walked down the corridor, she came to an abrupt halt. A group of attendants had appeared from the opposite direction, led by someone of importance.
The others noticed her as well and paused before approaching.
Rozelin bowed.
“Well, well. If it isn’t the lady of Bellion, who’s been the talk of the Imperial Capital these days.”
“Your Highness, the First Prince. It is an honor to receive you.”
She greeted him flatly, and a low laugh came from above.
“Good. I’ve been looking forward to seeing that precious face of yours.”
“Is that so.”
Rozelin responded without emotion.
At that, the First Prince twisted his mouth slightly.
Normally, when greeted this way, one was expected to apologize for not visiting sooner, or for not paying respects beforehand.
“…Very well. That’s enough courtesy. You may raise your head.”
“Yes.”
Rozelin straightened from her bow.
Golden hair and blue eyes, three white lines beneath the pupil and an arrogant gaze.
His appearance made it clear why many whispered of him as the Crown Prince.
‘He bears a striking resemblance to the Emperor.’
With such likeness, it was no wonder people spoke of the First Prince as the heir apparent.
‘Then does the Third Prince inherit his coloring from his mother?’
Rozelin’s eyes lowered slowly.
There was almost no public information about Arma’s mother.
Some said she had been a handmaid; others claimed she died in a great fire.
Without backing, the Third Prince had virtually no standing, and Arma had grown up under considerable hardship.
‘Trauma, as he said…’
Though furthest from the succession, Arma bore the title of prince, and he had clearly suffered for it.
A chicken rib.
Too insignificant to keep and too awkward to discard—it was often more useful to simply eliminate such a piece.
“Are you on your way to see the Empress?”
“Yes. I’m taking a mediating role in the treaty with Kaluta. I also visited the Third Prince beforehand.”
“…You mean that youngest bastard actually went to see the Empress?”
“Yes.”
The First Prince, arms crossed, regarded Rozelin with a distinctly displeased expression.
“I don’t care for this.”
Rozelin let the murmured words pass over her without weight.
“As your brother, shouldn’t the Betrothed of my youngest come to greet me first? How is it you’ve not shown your face for over a decade?”
“…I beg your pardon?”
“Tsk. Is Mother with the youngest in the Reception Room?”
“Yes.”
“If you’re curious about footage of him when he was young, feel free to visit sometime. I’ll show you something special.”
He brushed past Rozelin and made straight for the Reception Room. Rozelin blinked once.
‘…The Emperor seems to favor Arma as well, it seems….’
Did they share that too?
It was unexpected.
She’d thought the princes didn’t get along with each other.
“You seem to be on better terms than I expected.”
“Yes, they’re quite endearing.”
It appears you’re fond of the princes, Captain.”
“Of course—I’ve watched them since they were young.”
At the warmth in his voice, Rozelin shrugged and resumed walking at his side.
“You’ll board this Carriage.”
Rozelin nodded and had just begun to climb aboard when she turned her head slightly.
“Captain, I have a question, if I may ask?”
Which was precisely why curiosity took hold.
“Hmm? Of course. I’ll answer truthfully anything I know.”
“Why did you offer me the position of Queen?”
Why would someone of this caliber become the King of Magruks and plot to kill every member of the royal family?
The man’s footsteps halted. His gaze slowly turned toward Rozelin.
* * *
“…Rin? Rozelin?”
Rozelin, lost in thought, suddenly lifted her head.
“Yes, Father.”
“What were you thinking so hard about that you didn’t notice me come in?”
“I suppose I was just tired from visiting the Imperial Capital today.”
“What? Go to sleep at once. Didn’t I tell you to take things in moderation? Really….”
Cherti grumbled his complaints even as he laid Rozelin down and drew the blanket up over her.
Then he pulled a chair over to the bedside and sat, gently taking her hand.
“…What are you doing all of a sudden?”
“…Ahem, they say that holding someone’s hand helps them sleep better.”
At the added note in his voice, Rozelin blinked.
That was the moment.
“Time to sleep now.”
A ringing sounded in her ears, and then a strange voice echoed as bizarre images bloomed in her mind.
* * *
“…Yes. Sleep well, Father.”
“…Good night.”
The parting words between them carried an awkwardness unbecoming of a parent and child.
Cherti held his tongue, his grip tightening on the small hand that reached out to him.
His large hand enveloped her small one completely.
The girl’s cheeks flushed with fever, and a hazy smile crossed her lips.
“It feels nice when Papa holds my hand….”
Even as she gasped against the fever, the child whispered softly and let her eyes drift shut.
“What did you just….”
“Oh, I’m sorry, Father.”
“Hmph, who said I disliked it? It’s just that more words only tire me out, so I’d prefer you keep calling me that. Any more than necessary and your fever might climb higher….”
As Cherti rambled on, the girl laughed softly and squeezed the hand holding hers with all her strength.
“Yes, Papa.”
“Ahem. Mm-hmm! Well, in any case…sleep now. Your papa will stay right here until you’re resting.”
At his reassuring words, the child gave a small nod.
Before long, her breathing grew slow and steady.
“…Her fever’s climbing again.”
He reached his free arm across and pressed his palm to young Rozelin’s forehead, monitoring her temperature as he murmured quietly.
“…I wish my Ability were anything but poison.”
If only it could become medicine instead of poison.
Then I could have healed my child’s suffering.
I might never have taken your mother’s life, might never have robbed you of her.
“I wish I could have watched you grow safely at my side.”
He gazed down at the child, whose breathing came shallow and uneven in sleep, and slowly rubbed his face.
…….
He gently lifted the edge of the child’s garment.
Along the waist, there was a scar from a blade wound. The stitching marks were still vivid—the injury had not yet fully healed.
“How terrified you must have been…….”
He clenched his teeth, his voice turning savage.
“I didn’t realize a month had passed with no memory after falling into the water.”

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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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