The Villainess Duke Lady Hides Her Identity - Chapter 90

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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 90

The New Year’s Festival had ended.
Reponya, returning from the party, struggled to digest the ashes she’d swallowed.
Her entire life up to now had been denied wholesale, and if she left this place, she truly had nowhere to return to—the weight of that realization had settled in—but she couldn’t simply stop here.
Perhaps because she hadn’t spat out the ashes but forced them down instead, something in her body rebelled; barely back from the New Year’s Festival, Reponya fell gravely ill.
“The New Year’s Festival appears to have been too much for the young lady. At six years old, it is quite an overwhelming affair. And it seems her recent rapid growth has brought growing pains with it.”
Her fever burned so high that her head spun. Worse, her short little limbs ached as though someone had been cutting into them, and Reponya’s face contorted in pain.
‘This useless six-year-old body.’
Reponya glared at herself. At six years old before, she’d never endured growing pains like this.
It seemed these pains had come from her sudden growth while living well and comfortably in the Craitan Estate.
‘So this is the brutal cost of growing tall.’
Reponya’s face scrunched up, and Fretes beside her began stamping his foot, pressing the physician for answers.
“We’ve never hurt like this. Cottontail is in such pain—did you give her the wrong medicine?”
“When the young lord was four, he also cried out in pain, pulling at his own hair.”
Havelian swept his hand across Reponya’s fever-hot forehead, studying her expression carefully.
“Are you alright? Ponya.”
“…Did you hurt this much too?”
Her voice came out weak and hoarse from the high fever.
“I don’t remember. Fretes apparently cried and wailed when he was four, according to the physician’s story.”
Havelian brought water he’d prepared, sat Reponya up, and helped her drink.
‘It’s not like my hands are broken….’
She looked at him absurdly as he tilted the cup for her, but sensing he wouldn’t relent even if she asked, she simply accepted it and drank obediently.
The cool water soothed her parched throat for a moment, though the high fever soon dried it out again.
As Havelian carefully laid Reponya back down, Duke Craitan turned to the physician.
“When will the medicine take effect?”
“She took the medicine a while ago, so it should be taking effect soon. Since we’ve used both a sleep-inducing medication and a painkiller together, once it takes effect, she should feel considerably better.”
During her training at the Pope’s residence, having used painkillers naturally on every aching day, she’d built up a tolerance to them.
Moreover, she’d received training to develop resistance to sleep-inducing drugs and poisons alike.
Those were things one learned to become a papal spy—she could not afford to be incapacitated.
‘This body now… has no tolerance, being so young.’
It was as though every ill thing had been stripped away, and she’d been sent back to the past.
Reponya lay limp on the bed, trying hard to keep her mind together, but the fever was too intense for a six-year-old body to endure.
Her head hurt so badly that her face twisted involuntarily.
Duke Craitan, watching Reponya’s breath come in shallow, ragged gasps, turned to face the physician and issued a command.
“Find a potion merchant.”
What? Even as pain stabbed through her throbbing head, that single sentence pierced her ears with startling clarity.
“Inquire whether there are potions that can reduce pain. Cost is irrelevant—we’ll buy every one they have.”
“I’ll look into it at once.”
A potion.
Reponya had consumed a potion and become a child. For reasons unknown, she hadn’t yet returned to her original state, which meant the potion’s effect hadn’t worn off.
If she consumed another potion on top of this one, there was no way to know what might happen.
‘And I can hardly ask the potion merchant what happens when you take different potions together.’
It might make the pain worse, but in the worst case, another potion’s effect could nullify the effect of the youth potion, returning her to her original body.
‘…I don’t want that.’
It would be fortunate if the effect wore off without having to buy that expensive Nullification Potion, but the thought didn’t appeal to her.
Whether it was the headache preventing her from thinking clearly or something else, she didn’t want to be separated from the people of House of Craitan right now.
Reponya grasped the hem of Duke Craitan’s robe.
“Ponya.”
“…I don’t want to.”
“Little one.”
Duke Craitan swept his calloused hand across her fever-hot forehead, cool and soothing.
Though his touch was rough, the comfort was enough to make her eyes close of their own accord.
Here, whenever she was ill, there was always someone beside her like this.
So right now.
“…I don’t want the potion.”
Reponya shook her head back and forth.
“It’s not strange medicine, Reponya. It’s a potion that makes pain disappear when you drink it, so you don’t need to worry.”
Duke Craitan, thinking that Reponya had grown frightened at the mention of a potion, bent down to her eye level and added gestures to his explanation with utmost sincerity.
Fellens crouched beside him and added his words.
“Father’s right, little one. It doesn’t even taste bad. If you’re worried, I’ll drink some first and try it. Then you’ll be fine, won’t you?”
“…I’m not like you. I don’t refuse to drink something just because someone else tried it first.”
Even as she suffered from high fever and pain, Reponya delivered what she had to say with perfect clarity—that was so like her.
“It’s just a growth pain.”
Reponya said it casually, tossing the words out. Yes, it hurts, but it really is just a growth pain.
It’s not a wound that’s become infected or festered and softened. It’s not urgent enough to require immediate treatment.
It’s merely pain. She’d endured infected wounds while applying salve; she could manage this much.
“Something like this clears up on its own in a day.”
All three of them fell silent and stared at Reponya, who had spoken so bluntly as if discussing someone else’s troubles.
What she’d said wasn’t wrong. But it was also not something a six-year-old girl in pain should be saying about her own body.
“Reponya.”
The Duke called her name after a moment’s hesitation.
“If you won’t take the potion, shall I summon a priest?”
Reponya stiffened.
‘Is he threatening me?’
The Duke couldn’t possibly know of her connection to the Pope, so it couldn’t be a threat. But her fever-addled mind, heavy with headache, couldn’t work properly.
“If I speak to the Pope, they could send a high-ranking priest right away.”
The Pope. A high-ranking priest.
Like a spark hidden in ash she’d choked down suddenly reigniting, a blaze erupted inside her chest.
The flames shot upward in all directions, spreading through her entire body.
“Once you’re exposed to Holy Power, the pain might even diminish—”
“Why would you say such a thing?”
Reponya asked quietly. She’d been speaking calmly until just moments ago, but now something had shifted in her tone.
Duke Craitan’s eyes narrowed as he felt the subtle change in atmosphere.
“Are you going to abandon me?”
The child’s question, delivered without a single blink, made the Duke sense that something had gone terribly wrong.
The solid wall that had stood when he first met Reponya had been rebuilt.
He’d known all along that the child still kept her walls up. But recently, their thickness had begun to thin.
When did it start? What had driven her to hide behind that solid wall again?
The Duke met Reponya’s eyes steadily.
‘…Ah. What did I just say?’
Reponya’s eyes narrowed. The fever and headache had made her speak nonsense.
‘Get it together, Reponya.’
Reponya raised her palm, intending to strike her useless head.
Tap.
If Havelian hadn’t caught her wrist, she would have hit her aching head right then.
Reponya stared blankly at the wrist he’d caught.
Havelian, who had been watching her with a cool, hardened expression, suddenly softened his face and smiled gently.
“Reponya. Sleep sounds like the best thing. You should rest when you’re in pain.”
Havelian lowered the hand he’d been holding to the bed and gestured silently to Buddy and Becky, who had been standing at a distance.
“Don’t take your eyes off Reponya until she falls asleep, and massage her painful arms and legs.”
Buddy and Becky nodded at Havelian’s cool gaze, as if to say they understood the need to prevent the same situation from happening again.
“We’ll be right beside you, so try not to worry. We won’t call for a potion merchant or a priest for now, so rest easy and sleep. All right?”
Havelian brushed Reponya’s forehead, where the fever stubbornly refused to break.
If he said they wouldn’t call for a potion merchant or a priest, then that was settled.
‘Yes. I might say something I don’t understand myself right now, so it’s better to keep my mouth shut.’
Reponya closed her eyes and nodded. She heard everyone except Buddy and Becky leaving the room.
As though drawn into oppressive darkness, Reponya’s mind was consumed by the searing heat.

* * *

The three men moved to the Duke’s office.
Duke Craitan was the first to speak.
“Reponya said she didn’t visit the Temple during the Harvest Festival, didn’t she?”
“Right. Even during the New Year’s Festival, the moment Pope Fretes began his prayer ceremony, her expression hardened. I thought she was nervous, but it seems there was another reason.”
“When I went looking for Reponya during the New Year’s Festival, the knight said that Pope Fretes had passed by where Reponya was. We don’t know if the two of them spoke, but it might explain why Reponya was acting strange throughout the party after that.”
Duke Craitan lowered his gaze at his sons’ words.
“Whether it’s the Pope or the Temple, I need to clarify what connection Reponya has to either one.”
“…Father. You said there was no trace of Reponya before she was adopted.”
Duke Craitan nodded at Havelian’s question.
“If Reponya is connected to the Temple, the absence of records makes sense. She may have been born there and confined her entire life.”
“What do you mean, Havelian?”
“When I served as an instructor at the Military Academy, my predecessor said he quit abruptly because he’d been reassigned to educate young priests the Temple was raising.”
“Educate?”
“He said it would be convenient to lock the young priests away and train them.”
Fellens tilted his head in disbelief at Havelian’s words.
“Why would they bring in a Military Academy instructor instead of a high-ranking priest to teach young priests?”
“I don’t know either. But my predecessor was known for brutal training—there were even cadets who nearly died under him. He was hardly the type suited for educating young priests.”
Duke Craitan’s brow furrowed. The words “training” and “education” struck him as oddly ominous.
The Duke tapped his desk and spoke.
“I haven’t mentioned this since nothing is certain yet, but while investigating the Orphanage, I learned that when the new Pope was elected, the Temple took away many children under ten years old, claiming it was to raise priests.”
Duke Craitan and Havelian exchanged glances. The two stories fit together somehow.
Children under ten. Priest training. Training. Education.
“Fellens.”
“Yes, Father?”
“Do you remember what Reponya said that first day after she came to the Estate, when she returned from her outing and shut herself in her bedroom?”
Fellens searched his memory—the five-year-old Reponya, weeping alone in her room.
“…Don’t hit me, don’t kill me, I want to live, please let me live?”
Fellens spoke those words he had never forgotten, word for word. Havelian’s face hardened as he realized such a thing had occurred.
Duke Craitan clenched the edge of his desk. With a sharp crack, a fissure split across the table made of magical materials.
“Havelian. If you investigate your predecessor, you’ll know what this ‘education’ of young priests truly was.”
“I’ll provide his personal information, Father.”
“From now on, prevent Reponya from making contact with the Temple or the Pope. I’ll have the butler ensure that Temple matters are forbidden from discussion within the household.”
“Understood. I’ll keep close watch as her escort.”
“And no matter what you discover, don’t let Reponya sense it. Do either of you think we should press her for what she’s hiding?”
The Duke posed the question to his two sons.
Fellens scowled as if the suggestion were absurd.
“You’re not seriously asking if we should clumsily demand that the little one tell us because she doesn’t trust us, are you? What does it matter? If the cotton ball doesn’t want to talk, she won’t. What changes if she does? She’s my little sister no matter what.”
“For once, your thoughts align with mine, Fellens. …Why should we dredge up painful memories? Whether it’s the Temple or the Pope, we simply eliminate them, Father. House of Craitan won’t fail to do at least that much for our youngest.”
Their minds were one.
The three men nodded quietly together.

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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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