The Villainess Duke Lady Hides Her Identity - Chapter 41

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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 41

The Billeman Dowager sent them? I knew there was a power struggle, but did she really hire assassins to kill her own grandson?
‘Then these aren’t the siblings the Pope sent to kill me?’
Reponya tracked the assassins’ movements with her eyes. Because she and her siblings had to finish a job and escape in a short time, they’d learned to strike at vital points first.
So both Reponya and her siblings had a habit of always scouting for vital points first in combat.
But the assassins before her eyes were just swinging their blades with death on their minds.
‘So it’s really true—the Billeman Dowager hired these assassins, not the Pope’s siblings.’
What surprised her even more was Lyudeum’s technique.
‘Are those the movements of a child?’
His skill in subduing the assassins was remarkable. Reponya forgot she was supposed to call for help and simply stared at Lyudeum’s back.
Even without proper training, she’d learned the basic principle that a Spirit Summoner couldn’t use Swordsmanship simultaneously.
A Spirit Summoner’s capacity determined the grade and number of spirits they could summon. The more high-grade entities summoned, the greater the burden on the summoner.
That’s why using Swordsmanship at the same time was supposed to be difficult.
‘That spirit is clearly high-grade or higher by its size—how is he swinging a blade like that?’
In the past, there were Spirit Knights—summoners with such exceptional talent and understanding with their spirits that they could use Swordsmanship simultaneously.
She’d heard they were so skilled with the blade itself that no one could match them, but that was a story from history books.
Did Lyudeum possess such talent?
“Hah.”
With his foot planted firmly on an assassin’s back, Lyudeum exhaled sharply and sheathed his sword.
The situation ended cleanly.
At Lyudeum’s gesture, a wolf spirit picked up the fallen assassins in its jaws and moved them out through the open window.
Even the cleanup was flawless.
Once all the assassins were gone, Lyudeum calmly shut the window with a snap. The waiting room fell silent as if no commotion had ever occurred.
“Reponya. Were you frightened?”
Lyudeum settled onto the sofa as if nothing had happened.
‘I know Lyudeum isn’t an enemy. If he’d wanted to kill me, he would’ve just let me die back there, making it look like a mistake.’
Reponya watched Lyudeum brush his hair back.
‘But just because he spared me doesn’t mean he’s on my side either.’
Even after facing three assassins, his composure didn’t waver.
“…This isn’t your first time.”
“Power struggles are dirty and messy business.”
Why was he so unaffected by all this?
“Doesn’t anyone stop you?”
“It’s officially called training, so no one intervenes. The lord of House Billeman must be able to wield a sword in any situation—that’s why assassins are sent without regard for time or place.”
“That’s absurd.”
“It is.”
Lyudeum started to raise his arm, then suddenly stopped short.
‘Hmm? What’s wrong?’
Catching that subtle movement, Reponya hurried over.
“Roll up your sleeve.”
“Mm.”
“Roll it up.”
At Reponya’s insistence, Lyudeum pushed up his right sleeve. A faint bloodstain was seeping into the fabric—he’d been grazed.
Of course. There was no way he could face three assassins without taking a hit.
“It’s fine. I’m ambidextrous.”
“Right. Sure. That’s convenient.”
Reponya replied offhandedly.
“I should apply salve. Do you have any here?”
“I can do it myself.”
“Even if you’re ambidextrous, it’ll be better if I do it. Do you have salve or not?”
“I do.”
Lyudeum obediently fetched the bandage and salve.
“You apply the salve. I’ll wrap the bandage.”
Reponya said this while cutting the bandage.
But the supposedly ambidextrous Lyudeum shook his head instead of applying the salve.
“You apply it for me.”
“…Didn’t you say earlier that you could manage on your own?”
“My right arm is injured.”
“But you’re ambidextrous.”
“I’m actually not very good at it.”
Lyudeum lifted his injured arm onto the sofa’s armrest and laughed lightly.
‘Maybe I should just call a servant and leave.’
No, that won’t do.
If word got out that she’d left the Duke of House Billeman injured from the Succession Celebration Party without tending to him, it wouldn’t look good.
Reponya carefully applied salve to the wound.
Applying salve and wrapping a bandage wasn’t difficult work. She’d been familiar with treating and bandaging her own wounds since childhood.
“Lyudeum. You said you needed me earlier.”
“I did.”
“Then why do you need me? Or… are you refusing to answer this too?”
“I’m not that petty.”
Lyudeum watched her small hands dab the salve on smoothly.
“This won’t put you in danger, will it?”
“If it would endanger you, I wouldn’t have started it in the first place, Reponya.”
The way he said it so matter-of-factly—that he wouldn’t ask her to do anything dangerous—sounded strangely comforting.
“The more often I’m seen with you, the stronger my position becomes and the weaker the Billeman Dowager’s influence grows.”
“You’re trying to expand your political position through me?”
“Yes. Just having you, a princess of House Kraitan, at my side changes how people perceive my influence.”
Reponya nodded, showing she understood.
‘…But why does this feel hollow?’
He’d said he needed ‘me,’ yet what he actually needed was not Reponya herself but the ‘House Kraitan princess.’
Noticing the subtle shift in her mood, Lyudeum added something more.
“It’ll look like I’m clinging to you because I want to be close to you. So there’s nothing in this that would harm you, Reponya.”
“That’s not necessary.”
As her energy drained, so did the strength in her words.
‘What is there to feel discouraged about? Get a hold of yourself!’
Reponya shook her head vigorously and began wrapping the bandage.
Confident in her bandaging skill, she decided to wrap it quickly and leave, so she worked faster.
But then.
‘…That’s strange.’
Reponya, who had been wrapping the bandage with confidence, tilted her head. Lyudeum, resting his chin in his palm as he watched, spoke up.
“Reponya. Are you really sure your way is better than mine?”
Because her hands were small, she couldn’t apply proper pressure, and her grip kept slipping—the bandage wasn’t wrapping correctly at all.
Looking at the bandage sliding down, Reponya’s eyes wavered.
“Fine. Just do it yourself.”
Reponya tried to unwind the bandage she’d wrapped, but Lyudeum suddenly lifted his awkwardly bandaged arm high into the air.
“I like it.”
“What?”
A bandage that was practically falling apart and offered no real help at all?
“I really do like it.”
“…Get proper treatment after the party ends.”
“No need. Even if I went home, I couldn’t get treatment. The household staff currently staying at the Mansion are too busy watching the Billeman Dowager’s mood to help me.”
Lyudeum spoke flatly. Reponya knew that expression well. The face of someone who accepted everything because there was no other choice.
It was an expression Reponya had worn her entire life.
“There’s no one on the outside who could help you?”
“No. I don’t attend the Academy.”
Heirs to noble houses attended the Academy earlier to receive proper Succession Training. But Lyudeum hadn’t received even those basic teachings.
“There’s no visiting tutor, and I stopped taking Swordsmanship lessons from the Billeman Dowager’s younger brother long ago.”
Watching Reponya’s expression, Lyudeum’s eyes lit up as if he’d found a breakthrough in a dead end.
“Reponya. Do you pity me? Are you sympathizing with me?”
Caught red-handed, Reponya flinched. As if anyone dared to pity anyone else.
“Then do this. Pity poor me and visit often. And when I get hurt, you can treat me.”
“Someone else could—”
“There is no one else but you.”
Lyudeum smiled softly.
“I only need you, Reponya.”
She wasn’t unaware of what lay behind those words—the weight of a life where everyone around him belonged to the Billeman Dowager, where assassination threats meant he could trust no one.
‘Perhaps Lyudeum is the only person I can truly trust and turn to for help.’
Since Lyudeum had personally reported finding Reponya in that empty house, there was no reason to suspect she was connected to the Billeman Dowager.
Moreover, simply by conversing with Reponya, a princess of House Kraitan, Lyudeum’s political position would grow stronger, which would actually constrain the Billeman Dowager’s actions—making him all the more inclined to see her as necessary.
“Hmm? Think of it like raising a flower. Have you ever grown plants before, Ponya?”
“…No.”
“It’s simple. Water it when the time comes, let it catch some sunlight now and then, and let it feel the breeze. That’s all.”
The head of House Billeman—the family called a rival to House Kraitan, the Imperial Guard House.
Having inherited the ducal title, House Billeman would be continually discussed in matters of power and political struggle for some time to come.
“You don’t have to check on it often—occasionally is fine too.”
Yet wasn’t this precisely the kind of thing that required abandoning all pride and laying oneself completely bare?
Reponya took a subtle step back from Lyudeum.
“I told you before—when you’re raising something, you can’t do it with a half-hearted mind. If you decide to raise it, you must prepare yourself mentally.”
“What do you mean, prepare myself? Do I really look like a flower to you? I’m a person.”
Lyudeum pressed the point with evident seriousness.
‘He may be laying himself bare like this, but who knows what he truly thinks.’
Lyudeum—who had never received Succession Training, never attended the Academy, and had no tutors.
Yet he had organized a Succession Celebration Party to solidify his political position, and to prevent its cancellation, he had personally invited Reponya, the princess of House Kraitan.
The fact that he was handling the Billeman Dowager so deftly meant he was far from being a fool who knew nothing.
“I should go now. If my brother finds out I’ve disappeared, he might destroy this entire place.”
Reponya smoothly changed the subject and stood.
“And I think my brother sees that wolf spirit as an enemy. It would be better if he didn’t know you summoned it.”
“Right. Besides me, no one else knows I can summon spirits. I’d appreciate it if you kept it secret.”
Reponya nodded and left the sitting room, with Lyudeum naturally following behind her.
“Ponya. Please think carefully about whether to pity me and keep me by your side.”
“I’m still deciding.”
“Just try raising me like a flower for now. How would you know if it’ll be easy or hard?”
“The book said you shouldn’t raise something with a light heart—”
“Then don’t raise me with a light heart. Raise me with the resolve to take responsibility to the end.”
Reponya faltered.
Take responsibility to the end? How long would she even be here?
Once Reponya was disowned, she would no longer be a princess of House Kraitan, and thus would no longer be of use to Lyudeum, who needed her precisely because she was that princess.
“…I suppose so.”
Reponya answered vaguely and resumed walking.
Fortunately, there was no damage to the building.
‘He’s keeping his promise well.’
She let out a relieved sigh.
“Ponya.”
At the voice calling from behind, Reponya turned. Lyudeum, who had approached without a sound, stood close before her.
Lyudeum placed a Green Jewel in Reponya’s hand.
“If you wish to call me, hold this and speak my name. Then I’ll come.”
……
“I’ll wait for you to call me. Whenever you wish.”
Lyudeum whispered softly, taking Reponya’s hand carefully and placing a light kiss on the back of it.
“Thank you for today. It was a joy, Ponya.”
After greeting her, Lyudeum released her hand—as if respecting her choice and willing to wait.
Reponya looked at Lyudeum quietly, then turned away.
“Cottontail!”
Fortunately, she had just met Felens, who was returning. He immediately embraced her as he arrived.
“Were you having fun?”
“Yes. And you made it back without breaking anything?”
“You asked me not to, so I was careful.”
Reponya praised him and reached up to pat his head gently.
‘Oh. That’s a habit from when I used to do this with small children.’
Back when she had lived in the Quarters arranged by the Pope, whenever small children who would grow up like her did something well, she would praise them by patting their heads gently.
That old habit had made her pat Felens’s head without thinking.
Reponya stopped her hand mid-air and regarded Felens awkwardly. He looked equally startled by the sudden patting.
“Um, that is… brother.”
Moreover, with so many nobles watching, such an action was absolutely improper.
An adopted child daring to pat the head of the second young lord.
Reponya was about to add something else.
“Fluffy Cheeks. Were you complimenting me just now?”
Felens’s blue eyes gleamed with delight. He took the small Reponya’s hand and gently placed it atop his head.
“Why are you stopping? Do as much as you like. Since you didn’t break anything in the building, I’d say you did remarkably well.”
The surrounding nobility drew sharp breaths at Felens’s response.
But Felens paid them no mind, his attention fixed entirely on Reponya.
‘He really doesn’t care what anyone around him thinks,’ she thought.
Reponya relaxed her tensed body and moved her hand, which now rested gently on Felens’s head.
His silver hair, so like her own, brushed softly between her fingers.

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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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