The Abandoned Villainess Decides to Take It All Chapter 29

Chapter 29

Ebren had never been someone who needed much sleep.

But this time, it wasn’t insomnia—it was a gnawing pain eating at him from the inside that kept him awake.

“Sixty…”

It was absurd that something like this could irritate him so deeply.

A number.
Just a number.

They would part ways in a year anyway.

She scored eighty with the other Shadows.
But with me, sixty.

The lowest among them was seventy-five.
But with me, sixty.

Normally, thinking things through calmed him down.

This time, the more he thought, the angrier he became.

This wasn’t simple attachment—an esper’s dependence on their controller.

This was fundamentally a serious problem.

If compatibility with him was only sixty, yet she could stop a rampage—

That meant somewhere in this world existed someone with one hundred compatibility with Lillian.

A hundred.

A pairing decreed by the Creator itself—a destined match.

If they even met, status wouldn’t matter. Marriage would be possible on the spot.

No—marriage wasn’t even the issue.

They’d try to imprint immediately.

Should he amend the contract now and force Lillian into imprinting as well?

No. That wouldn’t solve the root problem.

If a true hundred appeared, even an existing imprint could be broken easily.

Lillian Tillard’s hundred.

That person—

Could simply be erased.

But what if a second hundred appeared?

Then erase them too.

But what if he missed one?

He hadn’t yet fully exploited Lillian’s usefulness.

For at least this year, she needed to remain at his side.

He couldn’t allow some unknown “hundred” to snatch her away.

As dawn broke, Ebren muttered quietly,

“…Then I’ll solve it at the root.”

If the missing forty could be filled—

If he could prevent anyone from taking Lillian before he grew tired of her—

His mind felt lighter the moment a goal formed.

He headed into the increasingly busy corridor, where preparations for returning to the capital were underway.

“Lillian.”

“Yes, Your Highness.”

“There’s something we need to discuss before returning to the capital.”

“…Yes. Please go on.”

Ebren held out his hand.

Lillian blinked, glancing between his face and the offered hand.

“…Your Highness? Do you need control? Are you uncomfortable?”

“No.”

“Then why—?”

“Even when control isn’t necessary, we should be holding hands.”

“…? Even in front of others?”

“Especially in front of others.”

He recalled a piece of folk belief.

The idea that the more frequent the contact between an esper and a controller, the higher their compatibility would become.

Perniès was full of such superstitions.

That living in the same space for years naturally raised compatibility.
That there was a scent only the destined pair could sense.

All of it unverified nonsense.

The barking of ignorant humans—blind hope and desperate wishes made noise.

Like bowing one hundred and eight times before a relic.

But perhaps superstition existed because there was something that hadn’t yet been proven.

Still, Lillian was smart.

A wise person wouldn’t accept folk belief at face value.

So Ebren chose a practical justification instead.

“You awakened after prolonged contact with me. Even if we know the truth, how will it look to others?”

“…They’d find it hard to believe.”

“Some may accuse you of using forbidden arts.”

“…That is… possible.”

“So imagine how dangerous it would be if you were separated from me.”

He lifted their interlaced hands.

The more he spoke, the more reasonable it sounded.

With abilities, anything was possible.

Air. Earth. Even insects—abducting someone wouldn’t be difficult.

“And in front of the Second Empress and the Tillards, we need to show that we’re connected.”

“…True. I did cause some trouble.”

“You caused quite a lot.”

He hadn’t forgotten how she disrupted every auction with uncanny precision.

“Haah…”

After a moment’s thought, Lillian nodded.

“You’re right.”

At last, superstition found validation through logic.

How did I forget this?

After hearing the villain’s reasoning, Lillian mentally slapped herself twice.

I should’ve looked much closer to him from the start.

The world believed Lillian was powerless.

If she suddenly awakened, who would believe it?

They’d assume I’m a powerless woman being forcibly kept beside the crown prince.

She could demonstrate her ability, sure—

But she couldn’t change everyone’s mind.

Then society would pressure her to return to the Tillards.

And because my lineage is “too good,” I can’t even be adopted into another family.

That was why she’d chosen exile—only to fail because of phytoncide.

Damn it.

But now it was time to formally annul things with Karkin Favil and sever ties with the Tillards.

As the villain said, a shocking performance was necessary.

Better to gradually raise the intensity than rush in and be suspected of acting.

Still—

“Your Highness, is this really necessary…?”

“Yes. Let’s do it.”

“Even in front of your subordinates?”

“Isn’t it easier to practice with familiar audiences?”

And so, from early morning, Lillian’s hand was firmly held by the villain.

It was cold, so honestly, not terrible.

The power of annihilation was said to erase ethics, love, emotions…

Yet it didn’t erase persuasion.

A very selective appetite, clearly.

As they descended the temple steps, they ran into another departing group—

Princess Meliora von Albrecht’s entourage.

The princess, spotting Lillian, walked over without bothering with formalities.

“Lillian! You’re returning to the capital?”

“Yes, Your Highness.”

“Really? That’s such a shame…”

In the short time before departure, the princess had grown quite attached to her.

She’d begged to see artifact drafts, clinging to Lillian constantly.

“I truly enjoyed spending time with you.”

“You honor me, Your Highness. I feel the same.”

“Really? Ah…”

Silver-gray eyes lingered on Lillian.

“I want to grab you and take you with me. I mean it.”

“My, what an overwhelming compliment.”

“It’s such a pity… such a pity…”

“….”

“Such a pity…”

Lillian felt a strange, reptilian chill.

Even young—an esper was still an esper.

Before her hair could fully stand on end, the princess offered a delicately wrapped gift.

“I’ve taken so much from you. So I prepared this.”

“Your Highness, may I ask what this is?”

“This is my shed skin!”

“….”

What… am I supposed to say to that?

Thankfully, she didn’t need to struggle long.

“It’s a veil made from a snakekin’s shed skin.”

“…!”

Lillian’s eyes widened.

The disguise artifact from the original story—?!