The Villainess in the Childcare Story Doesn’t Hide Her Personality - Chapter 68

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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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I have no idea how I made it home.
I vaguely recall Grand Duke Cardicha supporting me as we climbed the stairs, but my mind was so scattered that the memory felt distant and unclear.
My thoughts were consumed entirely by Cain Inkaris.
‘…Cain Inkaris drove Grand Duke Cardicha to his doom.’
That couldn’t be right.
There had to be some misunderstanding.
Something, anything—there had to be something I was missing.
No matter how hard I tried to rationalize it away, the conclusion remained unchanged.
According to Achilles Cardicha, he had indeed fallen into a trap, and it was Cain Inkaris who had laid it.
Had Cain Inkaris done it intentionally? Did he truly wish for the annihilation of Grand Duke Cardicha, the young princess, and the entire Northern Knights?
The Cain Inkaris I knew was the one who became my only friend at the Academy.
The one who, hearing rumors that I was struggling to adapt at the Finance Ministry, sent me letters repeatedly despite never receiving a reply.
The one who welcomed me warmly when we met again after so long.
The one who took Timothy as his successor and openly protected him before others….
‘…I need to see him.’
* * *
The opportunity came sooner than I expected.
A letter arrived from Timothy.
[It seems Cain Inkaris will be returning to the Capital for the Founding Festival.]
The Founding Festival.
The grandest celebration and holiday of the year.
Naturally, it was a period when the Commander-in-Chief had to make numerous public appearances.
[By the time this letter reaches you, we should be in the Capital as well.
I know you must be busy, but I would be delighted if you could find time to meet with Cain Inkaris and me.]
‘How convenient.’
A bitter taste lingered on my tongue. Was it really appropriate to call this “convenient”?
Under normal circumstances, I would have read Timothy’s letter with joy and promptly sent a reply arranging a meeting.
Now, I could think of nothing but confronting Cain Inkaris and demanding answers.
‘…Where he’ll be is obvious enough.’
There was only one place Cain Inkaris would go upon returning to the Capital for the Founding Festival.
* * *
“I told you so! No matter how strong you are, when goblins swarm at you like that, there’s not much you can do.”
“Still, we took down the leader. We did what we came to do.”
“Then what? By tomorrow, there’ll be a new leader in its place.”
Before I could even open the door, a cacophony of voices spilled out.
The Nighthawk Inn.
Tucked away at the end of a dingy, cramped alley that seemed impossible to exist in the heart of the Capital, the inn was not a place where ordinary travelers stayed.
I pulled the hood of my cloak deep over my head.
If word spread that an Imperial Bureaucrat frequented such a place, I would face disciplinary action that very day.
Though truthfully, no one who would recognize me would ever set foot in a place like this.
The moment I opened the door, a potent miasma of alcohol, sweat, and various bodily odors hit me like a physical force.
I navigated past several tables where scarred mercenaries of both genders—their bodies marked by countless wounds—sat drinking themselves into oblivion, finally approaching the counter.
A bulletin board hung beside the counter, plastered with job postings arranged in neat columns.
The rewards were all substantial, yet each contract was equally treacherous.
[Extermination of troll family at entrance to Rat Tail Mountain Range. Additional compensation upon delivery of missing persons’ remains]
[Recruitment of escorts for voyage to Dabashé Archipelago. Verified personnel preferred]
The elderly man tending the counter remained absorbed in polishing a glass tumbler, utterly indifferent to my approach.
His hands, callused from gripping a sword hilt for decades, spoke volumes about how many battlefields he had crossed as a swordsman.
I dispensed with pleasantries and asked directly.
Experience had taught me that courteous greetings would only be ignored anyway.
“Ren is here, isn’t he?”
“…?”
The old man blinked slowly, then regarded me with his clouded eyes.
Only suffocating silence stretched on for several minutes.
At last, the old man spoke.
“He is.”
I exhaled in relief.
Had the old man refused to acknowledge me, my situation would have become considerably more complicated.
“Excellent. Please call him for me.”
“Whether Ren wishes to see you is another matter.”
“At least deliver my message. Tell him I’m waiting.”
The old man’s eyes narrowed, and his previously dull irises suddenly gleamed with intensity.
“…Follow me.”
I complied without hesitation, trailing behind the old man.
Though the inn had appeared modest from the outside, its winding corridors seemed to stretch endlessly no matter how far I walked.
“Has it been four years?”
“You remember that?”
I asked, genuinely surprised.
My only conversation with this old man had occurred four years prior—a single encounter.
I had assumed he would have forgotten…
“How could I forget? You verbally thrashed Ren that day.”
“Haha…”
It was a memory I too could never forget.
“That was the first time I ever saw Ren rendered speechless.”
The old man pointed toward a door.
“That’s his room. The door should be unlocked.”
I took several deep breaths to steady myself.
Why did it have to be at the Nighthawk Inn?
Unlike the past few days when I had trembled with a sense of betrayal, a strange emotion now welled up within me.
Cain Inkaris and I had truly been intimate once, after all.
Sharing secrets that cannot be revealed to others.
“…It doesn’t matter anyway.”
My close friendship with Cain had lasted only a year or two at most. Several years had passed since graduation.
I gripped the doorknob firmly and turned it.
I had no intention of knocking.
If I wanted to extract the truth from Cain, I needed to catch him off guard at the very least.
Inside the door lay another door.
Beyond that door was yet another.
Only after passing through these layers could I finally meet Cain.
He sat diagonally on the sofa, gripping a hook sword worn smooth by countless mercenaries’ hands, poised to cleave an enemy’s head from their shoulders at any moment.
He must have sensed someone entering from the moment the door opened.
But he clearly hadn’t realized it was me.
His eyes widened in shock, and his words stumbled.
“T-Tessa? What are you doing here…?”
“It’s been a while, Cain. Did you get that sword recently?”
Cain’s amber eyes wavered, and the hook sword vanished from sight in an instant.
“Uh, u-um… How did you find this place?”
“You always stay here during the Founding Festival.”
Back at the Academy, I had once followed Cain out of concern when he kept returning injured.
That was how I discovered this place—the Nighthawk Inn.
A sanctuary for mercenaries who exchanged dangerous missions for exorbitant pay.
Of course, Cain’s purpose here had nothing to do with money.
The sole heir of the Commander-in-Chief and the Inkaris Family, he found the role of Commander-in-Chief—a position that demanded he serve as a mere figurehead—utterly suffocating.
What he truly desired was to be an adventurer.
He needed neither wealth nor glory. He simply wanted to live freely, drifting like the wind as an adventurer….
Of course, he never abandoned his family or relinquished his position as Commander-in-Chief, but he sought out this place every year when the Founding Festival arrived.
How did I know?
Read the newspapers.
Reports of the adventurer “Ren’s” latest exploits appear in the papers immediately after each Founding Festival concludes.
An adventurer who refuses all compensation and asks only that his name be recorded.

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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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