The Villainess Lives Twice - Chapter 269

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Team. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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Chapter 269

Lisia was confined in solitary.

It wasn’t a prison. The room was equipped with a neat bed and fireplace, and tapestries hung on the walls.

There was also a tea table and chairs.

But that didn’t change the fact that it was a prison.

Lisia dragged a chair over, climbed up on it, and opened the small window that was positioned high up to look outside.

The window was only about the size of two palms. Even a five-year-old child wouldn’t be able to escape through it.

The building was a monastery. The entire structure was solidly built of stone and surrounded by high walls.

It was for defense against bandits and monsters.

There were many such monasteries in the western regions.

Probably beyond the walls stretched empty plains without a soul in sight. Monasteries were originally built away from the secular world.

It seemed they had used this to their advantage, making an abandoned monastery their base.

‘Two, four…’

Lisia counted the number of torches visible outside the window.

There were over forty. Even if there was one guard for every three torches, that meant at least 17 men.

‘Fifty brought me here…, and at least 30 must be guarding the base…’

Considering the crowd that had gathered noisily last night, it was probably even more than that.

Escape was impossible.

Lisia was conscious of the pistol tucked into her back. It was Cedric’s pistol engraved with Evron’s crest.

But there was only one bullet.

She hadn’t been carrying it as a weapon in the first place. Cedric probably hadn’t given it to her to shoot directly either.

That pistol symbolized the authority to mobilize Evron’s retainers in case of emergency.

Unlike before, Lisia was no longer a saint or the Prince’s fiancée, but merely Baron Morten.

He must have given it to her to mobilize the Evron Knight Order in case of emergency. For Lisia herself. And to protect Artizea.

After coming to the western regions, she thought there would be no need to use it. Because Artizea had given her sufficient authority and assigned guards.

Lisia had accepted it as a kind of talisman and treasured it.

But it would have been better to leave it somewhere safe instead of always carrying it around. It was too dangerous to fall into Lawrence’s hands.

If discovered, this pistol could be used for the wrong purposes.

She was lucky to have been brought here without being searched. But she would surely be discovered tonight.

So she had to hide it.

She couldn’t hide it on her body. This pistol wasn’t for dueling or self-defense, but for war, and it was specially made for Cedric who had large hands.

‘The window frame? The fireplace? Inside the bed mattress?’

She was too anxious to leave it in the room.

Lawrence’s base wouldn’t be just one place. No, rather, she thought there was no fixed base.

Then she couldn’t hide it in the room. She might be dragged away without being able to retrieve it.

No. Still, it would be better than falling into Lawrence’s hands.

Should she just throw it out the window? But if a guard picked it up, it would be the same anyway.

Lisia rubbed her face with both hands. She felt like she was going crazy.

Or should she just commit suicide with this one bullet?

It even felt like that would be the cleanest ending. So she wouldn’t have to suffer anymore.

‘I can’t do that. I know I shouldn’t.’

Lisia spun around and around in the room.

“It’s okay.”

Alphonse had said that.

“It’s okay. This is my role. And I’m much stronger than you think.”

So run away while he bought time with his life.

He said it was okay, but Lisia, who had survived by sacrificing his life twice, was definitely not okay.

It wasn’t just Alphonse. All the dead knights were people she had known since childhood.

The officials and priests were also people who had voluntarily followed her to do the difficult work of seeking out plague-stricken places.

The lives of the knights who died protecting her, and the lives of the priests and officials who died because of her, were also weighing on her life.

She didn’t want to create this tragedy again. No, she didn’t want to experience it.

She wanted to escape from that yoke. She didn’t want to be called by the name of saint, and she didn’t want to look at the Imperial Palace either.

Apart from forgiveness or reverence, this time she just wanted to live doing what she wanted to do.

So she fled to the western regions.

If she was going to flee, should she have gone to the North? Should she have put down unfinished business and such attachments and returned to her hometown to forget?

What was that mere name of saint anyway? She was no longer a saint now.

Though her holy power remained, the voice of God that had come to her had already disappeared. Artizea said she had received an oracle.

Lisia thought that was right. God had chosen the wrong person in the beginning.

And Lisia thought that God must have turned back time to reverse that choice.

So it might have been right to step back and do nothing according to God’s will.

Lisia wiped the tears that had flowed down her cheeks with her sleeve.

She thought she would no longer shed tears like this. There was never a day when grief became bearable.

But she had to live. As long as she was alive, Cedric and Artizea would come to rescue her someday.

The plague in the western regions could only be cured with her healing power after all.

If she made Lawrence angry here and got killed, the plague would only end by killing all the patients.

Lisia drew her pistol. Then she took out the bullet and put it in her pocket.

And she tried to hide the pistol inside the fireplace.

That’s when it happened.

Knock knock.

She heard a timid knocking on the door.

Lisia was startled and quickly tucked the pistol back into her back. Then she asked.

“Who is it?”

The door opened carefully.

A young lady who couldn’t have been older than eighteen entered the room cautiously. She was holding a dress in her hands.

“Um, ah, hello… I, I was told to come and help you change clothes.”

She had a frightened face as if she had been forcibly brought here.

Lisia stared blankly at the young lady’s face.

“Benia.”

Benia looked at her with a startled face.

“Do you know me?”

“…”

Lisia only bit her lips.

It was a face she missed but never wanted to see again.

Meeting again meant that unbearable sorrow and misfortune had befallen her.

And that sorrow and misfortune had probably already befallen Benia. It was obvious why Lawrence had brought her here.

‘I’m sorry.’

Even if she spoke the apology aloud, Benia wouldn’t understand its full meaning.

“At home… is everything alright?”

Lisia forced herself to ask that.

Benia nodded while unable to hide her frightened face.

“You weren’t forced to say everything’s fine, were you?”

“No, so far, nothing has happened.”

Clever Benia knew her situation exactly. Though she didn’t know what was happening.

“They said if I serve you well, nothing will happen.”

Tears welled up in Lisia’s eyes. Clear tears fell like beads again over her wiped cheeks.

“I see.”

“Young Lady, are you alright?”

Benia asked worriedly, looking at Lisia’s face.

Lisia shook her head saying she was fine.

It was fine. If she wasn’t fine, Benia would lose her family and hometown once again.

That couldn’t happen.

“Don’t worry too much. You… will return safely.”

Lisia said with effort. Even as she spoke, her voice choked several times.

“I’ll change clothes. Help me.”

Lisia thought there couldn’t be anything more shocking than this.

But when Benia unfolded the dress she had brought, she couldn’t help but feel breathless.

The dress, made of ivory silk covered with lace of the same color, tied once below the chest and flowing gracefully downward, had a warm and sacred feeling.

It was a style that no longer existed. It was because when Lisia had become Crown Princess in the past, the finest tailors had designed it with utmost care for the Holy Lady’s wedding.

Regardless of the real Lisia, it was to show the image of the healing Holy Lady that people wanted.

And that wedding dress had become the fashion trend.

Soft silk and thin lace in achromatic colors had taken over the social circles. Lisia had worn this style of dress again too.

How could Lawrence make her wear this again?

The painful past became reality and poured down all at once.

It should have all disappeared when she returned to the past. She was no longer a Holy Lady or Empress.

The world had changed so much that it would follow a completely different history from before.

Yet everything seemed to be repeating itself for her.

Lisia staggered and slumped into a chair. Even though she thought she shouldn’t do this in front of Benia who knew nothing, she covered her eyes with her hands.

Tears fell drop by drop. Lisia wept silently.

Benia looked troubled.

“Please don’t do that. If you cry, Miss…”

Benia felt her chest tighten with pain.

She had never thought of herself as having a particularly compassionate nature.

It was Benia herself who was in serious trouble, having been dragged here by bandits. And if something went wrong, it would be Benia’s village that would be attacked.

Not this lady who would wear this high-quality silk dress she had never even seen before.

Yet she felt sad and heartbroken. This person whose name she didn’t even know crying seemed to tear at her heart.

“Please don’t do that.”

Benia knelt down in front of Lisia.

She wanted to wipe Lisia’s cheeks, but hesitated to do so with her own shabby clothes.

Benia hesitated, then carefully took Lisia’s hand.

Just then, the door burst open.

“Lawrence.”

Lisia stood up abruptly.

And she took a step forward as if trying to hide Benia behind her.

Benia could feel that Lisia’s hand, which was gripping hers tightly, was trembling.

“What are you doing without even changing clothes yet? Didn’t you receive it from Benia?”

Lawrence spoke peacefully. As if nothing had happened.

And Lawrence himself really seemed as if nothing had happened.

His hair was neatly combed back, and he wore a modest but neat formal outfit.

That was enough. He was originally someone who didn’t need any more decoration than that.

He looked the same as when he had been a lovely young man attending balls in the capital.

Lisia looked at him as if she were looking at a monster.

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Team. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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