The Villainess Lives Twice - Chapter 85

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

Chapter 85

Lisia was bewildered. It wasn’t that she couldn’t guess why Sedric had given her the pistol.

But wasn’t this too great an authority to entrust to someone merely because she was Artizea’s maid?

“Wouldn’t it be better to give it directly to Her Highness?”

“It would be fortunate if that person doesn’t dislocate her wrist trying to fire this thing.”

Sedric chuckled softly. However, that smile couldn’t linger even on his lips and quickly disappeared.

“Protecting her body—despite what happened this time, I’m not too worried about that. If she thinks there might be danger, she’s someone who can prepare for it herself. What I’m worried about is her heart, Lisia.”

Lisia tilted her head.

“More than anything else, she’s someone with a fragile heart.”

“Yes.”

“I don’t mean weak-hearted. Tia appears to have strong mental fortitude, but she’s actually easily broken. Perhaps because she’s so intelligent, she crosses over to the other side before you even realize it. She has a habit of assuming the worst-case scenario and is easily swayed by the word ‘efficiency.'”

Sedric let out a sigh.

“But if you’re by her side, she’ll be fine. You always know how to find the right path.”

“I’ve only just begun to know Her Highness. If you tell me to protect her with my life, I’ll follow those words. But…”

“Just stay by her side. That’s enough.”

Lisia accepted the gun.

She wasn’t sure if she could actually do it. She couldn’t understand why he was entrusting her with such a weighty duty.

However, since she had received his trust, she would carry it out with all her loyalty.

Lisia changed her clothes and strapped the gun inside her dress again. Then she returned to Artizea’s drawing room.

* * *

That night there was a funeral.

It was a funeral for the knight killed in Karam and the guards murdered by the Southern Sea people.

Artizea had brought mourning clothes just in case. But she hadn’t thought she would have to wear them like this.

Artizea had not attended many funerals. She had attended even fewer as a superior.

It wasn’t that she had little experience with subordinates dying. However, her subordinates were usually people with no names, no status, or false ones.

Even if they died with complete loyalty, there was no honor. They couldn’t even reveal who their real comrades were or who their real master was.

Often their real names couldn’t even be written on their tombstones.

Artizea had never attended funerals to mourn or speak of how honorable the deceased was.

Instead, she arranged pensions for their families. Generally, that was what she paid as compensation for loyalty.

Sometimes she did things that looked like revenge. But those acts were never carried out for the person involved.

Lawrence’s position was somewhat different from hers. But he too wasn’t someone who attached great meaning to his subordinates’ deaths.

The funerals Artizea attended were usually for people who meant nothing to her.

The death of an aged noble, the death of a young heir…

Behind those funeral halls, gloomy yet expectation-filled conversations took place about the rights and obligations of titles and property that would change due to inheritance and wills.

It was part of politics. Power relationships often changed, and social trends shifted. Sometimes the Empire’s economy was turned upside down.

But the funeral here was different.

Sophie cried the entire time while dressing Artizea in black clothes. Alice’s eyes were also red.

Neither of them particularly knew anyone among the dead. But everyone was sad.

The dark atmosphere that pervaded the entire fortress was heavy with grief as much as anxiety.

Compared to that grief, the funeral itself was simple.

Dozens of coffins were placed in the Grand Hall. Lisia carefully asked Artizea.

“Would you be alright seeing the bodies directly?”

“Should I see them?”

“It’s the custom here for the lord to place medals on the foreheads of honorable fallen warriors. Since His Grace the Duke isn’t here now, Your Highness must do it. If you’re not confident, shall I do it instead?”

“No.”

Artizea hadn’t lived smoothly enough to fear seeing decomposing corpses.

But both Lisia and Agate Javert looked at her with worried gazes.

The coffin lids were lowered to about shoulder level.

The bodies had already been cleaned and dressed in ceremonial clothes. Their faces were lightly made up, so aside from being pale without any color, they looked no different from when they were alive.

Artizea thought about how carefully the undertaker must have worked to piece together the damaged bodies and arrange their faces.

However, there was still enough leisure here to hold such funerals.

On a real battlefield, even placing them properly in coffins would probably be a luxury.

Artizea placed the silver medals Lisia handed her one by one on the foreheads of the corpses. The medals were about the size of coins, with the crest of the House of Evron engraved on them.

The texture of the skin touching her hands was cold like beeswax.

These people had all died because of Artizea.

It felt strange. Not that she had driven someone to death, but that someone had died to protect her.

Until now, the only such person had been Alice.

The coffin lids were closed.

“You did well.”

Agate Javert whispered words of encouragement in her ear.

He assumed the young Grand Duchess must have been shocked by those deaths. He thought that a noble who had grown up sheltered in the capital would never have seen corpses before.

It would be her first time seeing bodies that hadn’t died from illness or such things, but had been cut by swords and torn by weapons.

Artizea shook her head without answering.

Flags were draped over the coffins. The coffins of the guards who had died first were covered with the ducal house flag that Sedric had personally draped before leaving.

And the coffins of the newly brought bodies were covered by Agate Javert and another knight.

Artizea absently wondered how many such flags and silver medals were prepared in the warehouse. It seemed like enough to cause bankruptcy.

There were several other victims. The coffins of the servant killed by Cadriole and his family members were wrapped in white cloth.

The coffins were carried out.

Knights lined up on both sides. Artizea stood in the master’s position with proper posture, seeing off the procession until the last coffin departed.

It was too cold a day to dig ground to make graves. All the coffins would be placed in the ossuary and then buried in their respective family mausoleums or hometowns when spring came.

No one wailed violently. No salute was fired either.

So the funeral remained quiet throughout.

The clanging bell sounds rung by the priests faded away.

Family and friends followed behind. Two maids near the entrance distributed flowers made of white cotton to the people.

When even the small sobs had all gone outside, silence filled the Grand Hall.

“Your Highness.”

Lisia carefully called to Artizea. Her face hidden under the black veil couldn’t be seen.

Sedric had said she was fragile. But Lisia couldn’t even tell whether she was mourning or feeling nothing at all.

“Please return to your quarters. Your Highness needs more rest.”

“What about Aubrey?”

That was when Artizea asked.

Lisia hesitated. But she had to answer.

“Sister Aubrey is… at the temple.”

A traitor couldn’t be brought into the Grand Hall funeral. Because she was no longer a person of the ducal house.

Originally, she should have been hung outside the castle. However, since it wasn’t something committed during wartime and the Jordin family had handled it themselves, she had received forgiveness.

Now she was temporarily placed in the temple like people who had died from illness or other reasons.

She would probably be moved tomorrow without any burial ceremony. It should be considered fortunate that family attendance was permitted.

Artizea slowly turned around.

“Are you thinking of going to see her?”

The person who first realized where her steps were headed was Alice.

“It’s not my lady’s fault.”

Alice said in a low voice.

“His Grace the Duke punished her. Aubrey committed a crime deserving death.”

“I know that too.”

Artizea replied thus.

She wasn’t planning to go before the coffin to apologize.

What had already passed couldn’t be helped. Cadriole’s matter was not within the scope of what she could have predicted.

Reducing variables as much as possible and moving people within predictable ranges is what Artizea mainly does.

But even she cannot know everything that happens in the world.

The sacrifices that arise from unpredicted events are unavoidable.

Artizea hopes to minimize the difference between plans and reality as much as possible, and does her best to make it so.

However, it’s not because she finds human lives precious or feels sorry for them. It’s because the smaller the variables, the higher the success rate of the plan.

When unexpected sacrifices occurred, the attitude she should take was not to lament.

It was to analyze blind spots and adjust variables so as not to fail next time.

And she had rarely felt guilt about such matters. Because it wasn’t something she did for herself.

She hadn’t felt guilt about driving out Aubrey either. That was something that naturally had to be done.

In the first place, isn’t it ridiculous for a tool to sympathize with another tool?

But today was different.

Those who died today had died for Artizea’s sake. For a Grand Duchess with a 2-year contract marriage who wasn’t even worth it.

And now she had become responsible for all of it. Because she was no longer someone who dealt with sins behind Sedric’s back, but his wife.

It was the same regarding Aubrey’s death. She didn’t need to die. The division of the Evron Duchy because of this was also a variable Artizea hadn’t even considered.

But before all of that.

‘Just for today.’

Let’s become emotional.

Perhaps it was because she had witnessed a funeral unlike any she had seen before.

Artizea had never seen such familiar and restrained emotions of mourning.

No, no one would become familiar with such emotions. What the people here had become familiar with was the procedure, not the emotions.

Sedric probably never became familiar with it either. Even though she had driven Evron to ruin.

The temple was quiet. Because the priests had left to conduct the funeral.

Artizea left Lisia and the maids at the entrance of the temple.

Alphonse held a lantern.

The chapel where Aubrey’s coffin was placed was very small. Only candles on either side of the chapel were lit.

The coffin lid had already been nailed shut. Instead of smooth white cotton, rough undyed fabric was draped over it.

In the middle, instead of white flowers, a single branch of mistletoe with berries that seemed to have been picked from somewhere was placed.

In front of it stood a knight in his early to mid-thirties.

“Count Mel Jordin.”

She was the eldest daughter of House Jordin.

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