The Abandoned Villainess Decides to Take It All Chapter 18

Chapter 18

What in the world is going on?!

The Shadows exchanged shaken glances.

Sure, they’d expected His Highness to keep her close if she proved useful.
That much fit his personality.

But an engagement?

Was their compatibility really that good?

None of them believed for a second that Ebren had fallen for Lillian Tillard.
Soft, sweet feelings like that simply didn’t exist in his world.

Tarandias weren’t built that way.

There was no affection involved—absolutely none.

Still…!

Elias ignored the we’re dying of curiosity looks his subordinates were throwing him.

The order had already been given.

Don’t let the imprinting talk spread.

The fewer people who knew his heart was effectively wandering outside his body, the better.

Even the most loyal subordinate could become a liability under torture.

Elias turned to Jeanne.

“Jeanne.”

“…! Y-Yes!”

“You’ll be assigned as the lady’s escort.”

Letting a man handle it felt… risky.

The Shadows’ eyes sparkled.

Oh damn. Damn. Damn.

The work itself was dangerous but familiar—borderline boring.

And now this had dropped into their laps?

Elias nodded toward Margaret, who was still standing there in a daze.

“Margaret.”

“Y-Yes?”

“From now on, you’ll serve as Lady Lillian’s attendant. Teach her controller protocols.”

“…What?! B-But—!”

Margaret panicked.

“Sir Elias, you must reconsider. H-How could we possibly entrust a Tillard—”

“Lady Lillian subdued His Highness’s rampage.”

“…!”

That was final.

There could be a thousand other talents or reasons, but in the end, this was why a controller was needed.

A rampage meant death—for the ability-user.

“So you will treat her with proper respect and attend her well.”

“…Yes.”

Margaret finally lowered herself into a kneeling bow.

“My lady… I look forward to serving you.”

“Mm. Okay, Margaret.”

“…!”

Margaret’s eyes flew wide.

What the—?
She’d acted like this was their first meeting, but she’d known her name all along?

But Lillian was already drifting away, unhurried—like a butterfly.

There’s no way she really stopped the prince’s rampage.

After twenty years as a powerless nobody, awakening all of a sudden?

Impossible.

She must’ve used some underhanded trick—black magic, at worst.

I’ll drive her out, even if I have to play rough.

That, Margaret told herself, was true loyalty.

Lillian, of course, already knew every controller’s name.

Who did everyone think laid the groundwork that let Iris shine in high society?

Me. I organized all the names and faces.

She’d also known this reaction was coming.

A stone that rolls in is never welcomed.

Not that I wanted to roll in, either.

Margaret did her duties.

She spoke little, complied perfectly—and rejected Lillian with her entire being.

She was polite enough that there was nothing to criticize.

A masterclass in passive-aggressive resistance.

Lillian decided not to care.

At most, she’d be here for a year.

If she could make a clean exit earlier, even better.

No need to report this to the prince or Sir Elias.

What she had forgotten was that she’d be assigned a personal guard.

“Please take care of me, my lady!”

“…Ah. Yes.”

Jeanne was her escort now?

Honestly, her skills were well known—I’m grateful.

Every time Jeanne greeted Lillian warmly, Margaret radiated pure humiliation, like she’d been betrayed.

They’d worked together a long time before Lillian arrived.

“Well… Sir Jeanne.”

“Yes, my lady?”

“You don’t need to worry about me beyond escort duties.”

“Huh? Ah—!”

Jeanne grinned. She understood the awkwardness perfectly.

“Don’t worry, my lady. They just haven’t seen what you can do.”

“That’s… a bit much.”

“But! You stopped His Highness’s rampage—and this!”

Jeanne raised her fist, showing the ring Lillian had repaired in a hurry.

“If they’d seen you fix this, they’d have bowed without being told.”

“That was just emergency repair.”

If she’d done it properly, she should’ve used matching metal at the very least…

But Jeanne shook her head.

“Even with a controller, ability-users have to be careful.”

“….”

“Having someone watch out for us like that—you have no idea how much it helps.”

Controllers often envied ability-users.

Their bodies and powers exceeded normal limits.

But they had their own burdens.

A slip during sleep, one misfire—and it’s disaster.

Abilities circulated through the body like blood.

But was it realistic for a controller to stay beside someone 24/7?

That was why artifacts were as vital to ability-users as inhalers to asthma patients.

And why Iris could avoid expeditions and still be praised.

“Now then! You need to finish your meal today!”

“Uuugh… I ate all the fruit.”

“Fruit doesn’t count as a meal for Shadows. Just a little more!”

Lillian nodded awkwardly.

She was used to clinging to others.

But being cared for like this?

Especially by a dedicated knight?

She barely remembered what that felt like.

It was… nice.

But—

Don’t get used to luxury.

Good dreams always hurt the most when you wake up.

They soon arrived at the Temple of Aeterna.

No matter the region, temples were always spotless, white structures.

Priests tumbled down the steps like rolling balls.

“S-Servant of the Divine greets His Highness! What brings you here?”

“We have injured members. I’m requesting treatment.”

“Yes, Your Highness. And the person beside you is—?”

“One of my retainers. She’d like to use the measurement artifact.”

“At this age…?”

The priest cast a suspicious glance at the veiled Lillian.

Why would a grown adult need a measurement?

Abilities usually manifested by age three.
At the latest—ten.

A border priest wouldn’t recognize her face.

Still, adult measurement cases were extremely rare.

Information about Lillian’s awakening was valuable.

Leaking it here—to someone not even on their side—was a bad idea.

The villain offered casually,

“Want me to take care of it?”

Please.
Become emperor safely. I’m begging you.

So Lillian dug up an old skill.

Back when she ran a workshop—acting her way through loan applications.

“Ah, Priest! The truth is—! Please allow me to perform one hundred and eight prostrations before the holy relic for my younger sibling’s university entrance!”

Academic competition in Perniès was as vicious as it had been in her previous life.

Come spring entrance exams—

Families lost their minds.

The priest hesitated, then laughed heartily.

“Oh my. My lady, you know that’s superstition. Praying before relics won’t affect admissions—it’s all based on grades—”