The Abandoned Villainess Decides to Take It All Chapter 13

Chapter 13

Beware of Double Contracts!

Lillian Tillard.

Ebren had been agonizing over what to do with this woman.

Tch. I really don’t want to gain another weakness.

She was the woman who’d tried to ruin herself by eating poisonous weeds growing out of the dirt.

Should I have just let her break?

He couldn’t afford to be dragged around by her.

Though… since I imprinted on her, it would hurt me too.

Severe mental contamination.
Partial organ failure.

Still—an S-rank body could endure a fair amount of that.

Was it worth factoring in?

But then Lillian’s eyes lit up.

“Your Highness, have you ever heard of an ore called Nightfall?”

“Are you trying to sell me something, my lady?”

“If you mix that ore with control stones, you can create an artifact that severs imprints.”

“And how would you know that?”

“Well, I am from House Tillard.”

Lillian Tillard spoke of her family like it was a universal cure-all.

…But it wasn’t implausible.

They were, after all, the foremost controller family in the empire—no, the world.

Even if they had secrets the imperial family didn’t know.

That sounded believable enough.

“Then why do I have to wait a full year?”

“The artifact only works if it’s made by the controller bound in the imprint.”

“Hm…”

“And it has to be used on the exact one-year anniversary of the imprint.”

“……”

“If you provide the time and resources, I’ll do everything I can to sever it for you.”

Ebren narrowed his eyes.

She didn’t seem to be lying.

But a line she’d muttered half-asleep suddenly came back to him.

‘You were the one clinging so annoyingly before.’

So she’d once been close with her fiancé, Karkin…

Yet now that Ebren had imprinted on her, she wanted to hand it back immediately?

What was with this temperature difference?

Fine. Let’s postpone breaking her for now.

At least she was useful.

Still… being slightly irritated made him want to tease her.

“Then, Lillian—shall we get engaged for now?”

“…What?”

Once again, Lillian thought:

Long live my past self who read the original novel obsessively!

I can’t believe the imprint-release method came to me this cleanly.

Seriously—reading carefully and stockpiling knowledge in your brain saves lives.

Every word turns into blood and flesh eventually.

That said, the engagement proposal had caught her off guard.

But once she heard his reasoning, it wasn’t total nonsense.

“Think about it. I’ve imprinted on you, so for at least a year, you’ll have to act as my controller.”

“That’s true.”

“Wouldn’t people find our relationship strange otherwise?”

“…That’s a fair point.”

“And honestly, I’m already dealing with headaches from your family and House Favil.”

“That must be difficult.”

“My younger brother, Kyle, is going around telling everyone he’d make a better emperor than I would.”

Well… he is the original male lead.

Still, Lillian didn’t particularly want him to win either.

In the original story, that prince knew I was being exploited.

A male lead who’s clueless is disqualified, isn’t he?

But morality in romance novels only activated for the heroine.

No—she didn’t even need to go that far back.

‘Please endure it, Lillian.’

When she’d been suffering because of Karkin’s affair—

the original male lead had tossed those words out casually and walked past.

Her pain didn’t matter.

Only Iris’s did.

…Alright then.

I’m stuck with this man for up to a year anyway.

Might as well use that time to mess with Tillard and Favil a little more.

And extract whatever benefits she could through careful push and pull.

And if I can steer this man in a better direction…

Maybe the Prince’s War four years from now wouldn’t happen.

Peace was essential for Lillian’s modest, comfortable future.

That was worth staking her life on.

So first—

“Your Highness. Shall we seal a contract in the name of the Creator God?”

“You don’t trust me that much, my lady?”

Yes.

Clear the spiderweb mark under your eye first, then we’ll talk trust.

“Oh my, of course not! But humans work harder when there’s enforcement, don’t they?”

I’ll behave because I know the plot—but you don’t.

“And who knows? Someone you truly want to imprint on might appear someday.”

“Hah?”

“Why that reaction? Even Your Highness might find love eventually.”

You won’t. I know that too.

This man wasn’t the type to be redeemed by the heroine’s love.

But framing it as this contract is for your sake made people feel less cheated.

“Lady Tillard, love? In a contract between royalty and nobility? That’s absurd.”

“I had it. For ten years. With my former engagement.”

Her gaze drifted toward the tent window.

Her brain was running low on sugar—just hang on a little longer.

As she stared outside dreamily, the villain spoke again.

“Then, Lady Tillard.”

“Yes?”

“You don’t plan to love anyone ever again, do you?”

“No.”

Lillian nodded.

“I won’t love anyone anymore.”

That wasn’t a lie.

A few seconds later, the villain gave a quiet chuckle.

“I see. Then we’re the same.”

Whew.

That was the most reassuring thing he’d said so far.

With the conclusion reached, it was time to draft the contract.

The relationship between espers and controllers was ancient.

But the clauses themselves were surprisingly simple.

Because the first article, dictated by the Creator God’s doctrine, was immutable.

An esper may not forcibly touch their controller.

This iron rule had been established after the “White Night” incident a thousand years ago.

The details weren’t important here.

What mattered was that imprinting—and even contact beyond hand-holding—
was impossible without the controller’s consent.

And if violated?

Struck by divine lightning and killed, wasn’t it?

Perniès—the terrifying empire!
So considerate of the weak!

…Though killing with abilities was still perfectly allowed. How unfair.

Lillian Tillard’s control targets are limited to Ebren Tarandia, and secondarily, the ‘Shadows.’
At the controller’s discretion, power may be extended to others.

Since Lillian hadn’t imprinted on the villain, she could still use her power on others.

So far, negotiations were going smoothly.

But then—

“Your Highness. Why is there a clause stating that my meals must always be taste-tested?”

“Well, I can consume poison and it’ll just be erased. You can’t.”

“…I see.”

So that’s how the power of annihilation worked internally.

She’d learned something she probably didn’t need to know.

But that wasn’t all.

“‘Bladed objects must not be handled freely, and any medicine must be taken only under Ebren Tarandia’s supervision’?”

Lillian had survived illnesses by foraging herbs herself.

She’d never had anyone nurse her.

So reading that made her thoughts tangle briefly.

“For one year, you’re my lifeline, my lady.”

“…Ah.”

“I can’t allow you to be damaged.”

He was calculating her usefulness while wrestling with violent destructive urges.

Pure, meticulous asset management.

Lillian chose to think positively.

That means I won’t be hurt during the contract, right?

Her eyes lingered on the budget section.

Officially “maintenance expenses,” but in truth—research funding to sever the imprint, plus extras.

…Wow.

At least this villain isn’t stingy.

I should prove my usefulness properly.

This was hazard pay—she knew that.

Still, there’s a difference between risking your life for free and doing it well-paid.

Lillian smiled, eyes narrowing.

“Your Highness, there’s one more thing I’d like to add.”

“What is it?”

“Even if I give advice that sounds insane sometimes, please listen.”

“……”

“It won’t harm you.”

She’d be pulling a lot from original-story knowledge going forward.

Making excuses every time would get tiring, and playing the I’m a Tillard, I know everything card only worked so often.

Given the amount she was being paid, she felt motivated to do a decent job.

“Very well.”

“Oh my… you’re more generous than I expected.”

“I already know I’m not normal.”

“….”

Her excitement over the money cooled instantly.