The Abandoned Villainess Decides to Take It All Chapter 17

Chapter 17:The Pink Stone That Came Rolling In

Margaret hailed from a vassal house of House Baltazar.

As befitted someone born into a fine noble family, she carried herself with cultivated elegance. She also held the title of Chief Controller—a position reserved for the most outstanding controller in the knight order.

Margaret spoke firmly.

“It seems everyone has forgotten. Her Majesty the First Empress died because of House Favil and House Tillard.”

Jeanne scratched her head awkwardly.

“W-Well… that’s true, but—”

“No matter how recently she awakened, shouldn’t we be more cautious, not less? You know what they say—no one can truly know what’s in another person’s heart.”

Margaret’s rebuke cooled the previously excited atmosphere at once.

Leaving the embarrassed knights behind, the controllers withdrew a short distance. Margaret let out a quiet sigh and asked her subordinates,

“…Do you think I was too harsh?”

“Not at all!”

“You said exactly what needed to be said, Lady Margaret.”

The controllers shot sharp looks toward the knights.

Ability-users tended to defer to controllers.
There was even a saying that if an ability-user made a request, you might slap them—
but if a controller did, you’d hesitate for thirty seconds.

Still—this was different.

“That powerless girl stopping His Highness’s rampage? That’s ridiculous.”

“She’s a Tillard. She probably knows how to charm people.”

“His Highness’s controller should’ve been you, Lady Margaret!”

Margaret soothed them gently.

“Let’s not speak like that.”

She prided herself on elegance; raising her voice was unbecoming.

“She must have had her own circumstances. Being ignored by her family, perhaps she wanted to cross over to another side.”

“You’re too kind, Lady Margaret.”

“That’s excessive praise.”

Margaret smiled graciously.

But inside, something boiled.

That powerless woman… His Highness’s controller?

Margaret hadn’t been on the front lines—she hadn’t witnessed the rampage, nor the moment it was stopped. She couldn’t believe it.

I’ll make her show her true colors.

Just then, a pink-haired woman emerged from the tents.

She seemed to be speaking closely with Ebren—so closely it looked almost intimate. Because of the height difference, he leaned down slightly, while the woman whispered animatedly, using both hands.

The controllers found the sight unbearable.

“My. First thing in the morning.”

“Of course she’d cling to His Highness first.”

It was obvious what kind of woman she was.

There were controllers who tried to marry up by using frequent “contact” as an excuse. Vulgar, shameless people.

As Lillian approached, Margaret composed herself and smiled calmly.

“Good morning, Miss Lillian. It’s an honor.”

“……?”

“To think the famed daughter of House Tillard would be here.”

“…….”

“Have you left your family to seek refuge here? And since when, exactly, have you been a controller?”

Lillian stared at her—slowly, from head to toe—without a word.

Margaret maintained her smile.

Yet when their gazes met, her heart stuttered.

House Tillard—so beautiful that even the Creator God had once mocked them as butterflies.

In the empire, saying ‘Do you have Tillard blood?’ was practically a compliment on someone’s looks.

I didn’t notice before, when she lurked in the corner of ballrooms…

Margaret scrutinized Lillian’s face.

Iris was dazzling, sun-bright, without shadow.

Lillian, despite her sweet hair color, carried a darker air—
like a crescent moon in early spring.

Focus. Be careful.

Women beautiful enough to be poisonous were always hiding something.

Then Lillian tilted her head.

“…Who are you?”

“What?”

“Do you know me? Because I don’t know you at all.”

“Y-You don’t remember me? I’m Margaret Rubelli—you must have heard of me.”

House Rubelli was also famous for producing controllers.

But Lillian merely blinked.

“The people I usually met were from sacred families or the imperial house. If you’re not one of those… I’m afraid I don’t really know you.”

“—!”

“If you properly introduce yourself first, I’ll apologize.”

Margaret’s face burned.

She hadn’t expected her to strike at etiquette first—
from the timid, useless girl known in high society.

Meanwhile, Lillian simply looked at her, wide-eyed and sincere.

Calling someone by name on first meeting? This is new.

One of the controllers beside Margaret snapped instead.

“You’re being rude! Flaunting your connections like that is vulgar! Apologize to Lady Margaret at once!”

“…? But it’s improper to address someone by name when you’re not acquainted.”

Lillian touched her cheek lightly.

“And may I ask—who was your tutor?”

“What?”

“The kind who doesn’t even teach who’s allowed to speak first. I should warn acquaintances before their debutante ball.”

“How dare you—just relying on your family name—!”

“Are you going to keep treating me as a Tillard daughter? Then you should know the greeting order.”

“……!”

Silence fell instantly.

Lillian would admit it—House Tillard was trash.

But it was ancient, dignified trash mentioned on the very first page of religious scripture.

By conservative standards, there were exactly two people here who could address her first:

The prince—and Elias Baltazar, a direct heir of one of the Five Great Houses.

There was no need for Lillian to raise her voice or lose composure.

Everyone began glancing nervously at Margaret.

What do we do now?
She was supposed to panic…
According to etiquette, shouldn’t we kneel until she permits us…?
What about Lady Margaret…?

Margaret’s eyes wavered.

She’d only meant to rattle her lightly.
If she admitted fault now, it meant admitting ignorance of etiquette.

But that also meant acknowledging that the Tillard woman ranked above her.

Then—a voice of salvation.

“…What’s all this commotion?”

“Sir Elias!”

Margaret rushed past Lillian.

Elias was highly compatible with Margaret. Surely he’d side with her.

“My apologies—Miss Tillard was offended by a form of address…”

“…….”

“It was a small misunderstanding that escalated unnecessarily. I’m terribly sorry.”

Now Sir Elias would surely say something.

Hope sparked in Margaret’s and the other controllers’ eyes.

Elias was known to be strict, and to despise anything that reflected poorly on the prince.

But Elias turned—
and bowed properly to Lillian.

“Lady Lillian.”

Mouths fell open.

Lillian herself didn’t blink for five full seconds.

“…Me?”

“Yes, my lady.”

“You’re calling me that…? Sir, have you forgotten? We’re of the same generation.”

“Yes. As the engagement ceremony has not yet occurred, please forgive me for addressing you as ‘my lady.’”

That was when Lillian froze.

She’d honestly forgotten they were engaged.

It felt less like an engagement and more like being a highly paid zookeeper.

“Ah—? No, I didn’t mean— I mean—yes.”

“We plan to send the luggage from the tents to the castle first. Do you have anything besides your bag?”

“No, that’s all.”

“…Did you expand the interior with magic?”

Elias stared at the absurd capacity of her bag.

Was there a universe inside?

Margaret finally snapped.

“Sir? What do you mean—the castle?”

“Lady Lillian is to be engaged to His Highness the Prince.”

“……!”

Not just Margaret and the controllers—

“—Gah!”

Every Shadow listening in was utterly devastated.

Our prince… with a Tillard daughter?!