The Abandoned Villainess Decides to Take It All Chapter 26

Chapter 26

Lillian thought the villain was like a warm iced Americano.

Cold, yet oddly comforting.
Bitter, but addictive.
And made entirely of contradictory elements forced to coexist.

Calculated, yet impulsive.
Indifferent to most people, yet obsessively persistent toward a select few.

Just like now.

They were inside the room prepared for him within the temple, locked in a heated argument—

for a full thirty minutes.

“We definitely agreed on this,” Ebren said flatly.
“That I wouldn’t let you get hurt.”

“I wasn’t hurt, Your Highness,” Lillian replied calmly.
“Which means this doesn’t constitute a breach of contract.”

“Oh?” He raised a brow. “Then what about the blood from that pebble earlier?”

“Your Highness,” she said patiently, “we’re going in circles.”

The issue was their engagement—slash—esper–controller contract.

Lillian treated it like a tool maintenance manual.

She was the tool side of the relationship, after all.

And in manuals, what mattered were things like damage liability, repair coverage, and operating conditions.

Who would’ve thought a pebble kicked up by a count’s snake tail would spark such a dispute?

“But look.”

She pointed to her temple.

Despite how sharply it had torn earlier, the skin was flawless now—no scar, no mark.

“Thanks to the priest here, you can’t even tell it was injured.”

She’d rediscovered one of the major benefits of staying near a high-ranking temple.

Immediate divine healing.

“The evidence is gone,” she concluded.
“Which means there’s no proof of contract violation.”

Lillian had a reason for insisting so stubbornly.

If this had been someone else—

She might’ve thought, He’s just worried about me.

She might’ve admitted it hurt.
Might’ve said thank you.

But this was Ebren.

This wasn’t concern—it was system malfunction.

So she treated it like one.

“Haah…”

At last, the villain exhaled sharply.

He crossed his arms and stared out the window in silence.

With his long silver hair loosely tied and his brows drawn together, he looked like a delicate, brooding beauty—

though to Lillian, he resembled a loan shark stressed over a late payment.

After several seconds—

“…Fine,” he said. “I admit it. I was careless.”

“…Pardon?”

“I didn’t know imprinting was like this.”

“In what way?”

Lillian’s attention sharpened instantly.

Imprinting had become practically obsolete in Perniès.

No one had willingly done it for centuries.

Only two facts were well documented:

Once imprinted, a controller could use their power on only that partner.
And the esper was required to devote everything to their controller.

Everything else was guesswork.

Ebren stepped closer.

“…It’s ridiculous,” he muttered.
“But if you spill even a drop of blood, it irritates me.”

His hand hovered near her pink hair, brushing close without quite touching.

“Even the smallest scratch interferes with my judgment.”

You had judgment? she nearly asked.

“No matter what I was thinking before.”

“…Then what happened to that count earlier—”

Lillian remembered the scene vividly.

It was fortunate he’d been a criminal.

If something like that had happened in the capital, the damage would’ve been catastrophic.

And all of it—

Because a pebble had grazed her?

Imprinting is a lot scarier than I thought.

Paired with annihilation—already a volatile ability—

it was a disastrous combination.

As someone trying to prevent a future war, Lillian saw the danger clearly.

Ebren sighed again.

“And emotional whiplash isn’t pleasant for me either. This wasn’t my choice.”

“…Mm. That’s fair.”

She conceded reluctantly.

Honestly—
If your heart had been ripped out and started getting injured elsewhere, irritation would be inevitable.

Right. If my heart’s going to fight somewhere, it should at least be the strongest thing there.
It shouldn’t be getting beaten up by random debris.

“I can’t exactly lock you up,” Ebren added.

That was a dangerous road.

Lillian redirected smoothly.

“Then I’ll be more careful from now on. I won’t step in front of danger like I did today.”

“……”

“I’ll prioritize avoidance.”

He still didn’t look satisfied.

“You really hate losing money over contract violations.”

“And you, noble prince, fining imperial citizens—”

“…Enough. Hold my hand.”

“Are you feeling a rampage coming on?”

“The imprint reacts when you’re injured,” he said tersely.
“I’m about to lose it. Hurry.”

“Yes, yes.”

Lillian clasped his hand with both of hers and sighed.

It felt like Perniès’s Creator God—or perhaps a mountain spirit—was asking her:

Lillian, Lillian.
Do you want the golden child?
The silver child?
Or this ambiguous mess?

No, mountain spirit.

She wanted none of them.

Yet somehow—

she’d been handed the silver one anyway.

Ebren was still seething.

As Lillian had said, the wound had healed cleanly.
Harassing the terrified priest afterward had been entirely justified.

And yet—

Whenever he remembered her bleeding—

the rage surged back up.

He knew people called him the empire’s mad dog.

Still, this was new.

He wanted—desperately—to feel better.

Ebren tightened his grip on her hand.

“Talk,” he ordered quietly.

“…About?”

“Artifacts. You like those.”

“…?”

“It makes you happy.”

She’d looked genuinely alive while repairing the princess’s necklace.

He wanted that feeling again.

“…Hm. Nothing comes to mind immediately.”

“Start with the first thing you ever made.”

“Oh—beads,” she said after a pause.
“Crystal beads. I strung them together, and—”

As she spoke, recalling the memory—

something warm flowed through their joined hands.

The irritation and fury knotted in his chest slowly unraveled.

In their place, something soft and foamy spread—like milk froth settling atop bitter coffee.

So this is what it feels like.

Good memories.

He could breathe again.

Just barely.

I’ll need to keep Lillian Tillard happy.

She’d need a room in the castle anyway.

A workshop—custom-built.

And from what he’d observed, she barely moved once immersed in her work.

Perfect.

Elsewhere, Margaret was being thoroughly reprimanded by Elias.

“You led a Tenevrin count into the workshop. What were you thinking?”

“Sir—I—I didn’t know—!”

“Not knowing is not an excuse.”

His voice was cold.

“You nearly destroyed the moment Lady Lillian was forging ties between His Highness and Tenevrin.”

If Lillian hadn’t noticed the sabotage—

If the necklace had been given to the princess in that state—

She would’ve suffered the same agony as the count.

And if that had occurred on imperial soil—

“…Did you act on pride?” Elias asked quietly.

“……”

“The only controller who has ever stopped His Highness’s rampage is her.”

“……”

“Did you truly weigh your pride against His Highness’s life?”

Margaret had no answer.

She lowered her head in silence.