The Abandoned Villainess Decides to Take It All Chapter 30

Chapter 30

On the Road Back to the Capital

The Shedding Veil of Tenevrin.

The wearer’s facial features remained unchanged, but the artifact disrupted perception itself. Even someone who had lived with you their entire life would fail to recognize you.

“Are you sure it’s all right to give me something this precious…?”

The princess smiled brightly.

“Because of you, I’ll be able to make better choices from now on.”

“Your Highness…”

“You saved me in a true crisis. This much is only proper compensation.”

After all, the artifact Iris had sold her—expensive as it was—had been one with missing components.

Perhaps that betrayal made her gratitude toward Lillian even deeper.

Lillian decided to accept it.

“I’ll treasure it, Your Highness.”

Even someone as composed as Lillian couldn’t help but feel moved in a moment like this.

Her chest tightened.

“Miss Tillard.”

At that moment, the villain tugged on Lillian’s hand.

The emotion vanished instantly.

“We should depart.”

“Yes, Your Highness.”

Lillian turned away with tears welling in her eyes.

Someday… I hope I can reach Tenevrin safely.

Meliora watched Lillian’s departing group.

A wistful light shimmered in her eyes.

“Ah…”

I want her.

Very much.

From head to toe, Lillian looked like a being made of spun sugar.

How could someone give off such an enticing presence?

She feels like someone born to enchant espers.

Snakekin instincts whispered the truth.

Occasionally, a controller appeared who was irresistibly alluring regardless of gender—
and the higher an esper’s rank, the more keenly they sensed it.

And it’s not just her control—her other talents are outstanding too.

Ah… if only she’d brought more knights.

I came with such a small retinue to hide my condition… what a pity.

But it wouldn’t have mattered.

No one here could overpower that man.

The one walking away hand in hand with Lillian.

He probably doesn’t realize it.

The power of annihilation surged around him, dense and restless—
as if it would activate the moment anyone else dared to touch her.

He had even thrown Meliora a warning glance over his shoulder.

“Ah… terrifying.”

Still, there would be another chance.

lick

In the heart of the capital stood a shop that unfailingly ranked first in
“The Empire’s Most Beloved Stores.”

Iris Florent.

A shop established for the Tillard family’s most cherished granddaughter—
and the very core of the family’s business.

The fact that it bore her name instead of the Tillard crest said everything.

Today was the semiannual unveiling of new products.

Artifacts personally designed by Iris and imbued with control drew attention every time.

Eyes sparkled as people gazed at the items displayed in glass cases.

“As expected of Lady Iris!”

“A monocle for those whose eyesight has deteriorated due to their abilities—how thoughtful!”

“I’ll place an order for ten!”

It was both a preview event and a gathering of Iris’s long-time followers.

Congratulations poured in.

“Congratulations, Lady Iris.”

“Hehe, thank you.”

“This time, too, the reviews will be glowing. And…”

The noblewoman leaned in and whispered,

“I refuse to believe that last article.”

“……”

“The one that claimed something improper with Young Duke Favil.
The one who submitted that must surely be punished by the Creator.”

“Ah…”

Iris froze for a fraction of a second, then smiled gently.

“Oh my, such frightening words! Even if someone is awful, divine punishment is too much, don’t you think?”

“Oh, Lady Iris…”

“But thank you for believing in me!”

She smiled sweetly—while sharpening her knives inside.

That pig needs to be removed from the VIP list.

That article had caused her no end of trouble.

She’d even had to explain herself before the Second Empress.

Fortunately, her reputation was spotless—otherwise…

Then, all conversation stopped.

She’s here.

The symbolic figure who dictated trends across the Empire had arrived.

Madam Rochette.

An esper and the owner of a renowned magazine, she entered with her golden hair elegantly pinned.

Iris beamed and hurried over.

“Welcome, Madam Rochette!”

“It’s been a while, Miss Iris.”

Madam inclined her head and followed Iris inside.

She’ll love the new designs—of course she will!

“Well? What do you think, Madam?”

Contrary to Iris’s expectations, Madam Rochette replied coolly.

“Well… the designs are a bit similar to last year’s.”

Thump.

“And functionally… they’re rather close to the new safety thresholds introduced earlier this year.”

Thump. Thump.

“No, Madam! Everything passed imperial inspection. The Tillard inspectors approved them.”

“…I see.”

Madam nodded as if hearing something obvious.

“I’ll be going now. Thank you for the invitation.”

“Y-yes. Please take care, Madam.”

She didn’t even look closely at the artifacts.

The followers rushed to console Iris.

“Don’t worry, Lady Iris!”

“What would an old woman like that know?”

“Just because she runs a magazine, she’s so arrogant. Such vulgar hands, touching money all day.”

Iris forced a smile.

Inside, she wanted to strike them all.

How could I not worry?

That woman had seen right through it.

I just tweaked old designs because I couldn’t rely on Lillian anymore!

Madam Rochette was famous for refusing the Duke’s “donations.”

If even one negative line appeared…

No. That won’t happen.

Iris pushed the anxiety down.

That night, after all the guests had left, she waited alone in the lounge.

A man entered carrying a massive bouquet of irises and roses.

“Hehe, welcome, Young Duke!”

“Iris, congratulations!”

“Thank you~”

She scrunched her nose playfully.

They’d nearly fought when the article broke, but Karkin had folded in the end.

“Without Lillian, things feel so much easier, right?”

“Oh, don’t say that. Poor sister.”

“If only I could marry you.”

“I wish that were possible too.”

A lie.

Marriage and imprinting were planned with Prince Kyle.

Romance could be with anyone.

The more men, the better—especially if they belonged to someone else.

What would Lillian do even if she found out?

Part of Iris hoped she would.

Everything Lillian cherished was nothing more than Iris’s toy.

She was confident she’d be forgiven for anything.

After all—

She was the only S-rank of this era.

The next day, that confidence cracked.

“What… is this?”

Bang!

The Duke of Tillard summoned Iris and Kuern to his study.

The magazine he slammed onto the desk—

Was Salon Rochette.