The Abandoned Villainess Decides to Take It All Chapter 4

Chapter 4

There was something romance-novel villains and the capitalists of Lillian’s previous life had in common.

They loved human usefulness.

If you were useful, you lived. If not, you were discarded.

Didn’t the Creator God say as much in ancient times?

“Heartless Tarandia, gullible Baltazar, greedy Favil, rampaging Bolivier—
and the hypocritical Tillard who flits among them like a butterfly…”

The Five Houses loved by the gods—

Oh, and yes, that was love.

After all, only love would make a god roast His own children from the very first page of scripture.

In any case, the Five Houses were, generation after generation…

Exceptionally strong-natured.

Tarandia imperial blood already lacked a heart—
so expecting mercy or tears from them was pointless.

…Which explained why she was currently being dragged along like a canary in a coal mine by a villain.

“Don’t be so frightened, Lady Tillard.”

The villain smiled beautifully, eyes crinkling kindly.

“We’re heading the same way anyway. Traveling together isn’t uncomfortable for you, is it?”

“Oh my, of course not, Your Highness. I’m positively delighted to accompany you.”

“I’m glad we feel the same, Lady. Let’s use this opportunity to grow closer.”

The life of a noble lady wasn’t much different from the hyper-developed social skills of a self-employed merchant.

Make one mistake—and you could die.

I’m alive for now, but if I fail to prove my usefulness, that could change.

Still, betting her life on a madman was never wise.

So Lillian discreetly glanced at the knights escorting him—
men clad in black uniforms.

The Shadows.

A special mobile unit tied to House Baltazar, the First Prince’s maternal family.

They were espers who obeyed only the First Prince.

The First Empress had loved the Emperor dearly.

And this was where the Tillards had once shined.

They allied with House Favil and relentlessly framed her.

The First Empress died of grief.

And naturally, the villain—the First Prince—lost ground in the power struggle.

It’s only natural for him to hate a Tillard like me.

But—

As the Creator God had said, “Baltazar of the Earth” was famous for being gullible.

Politely put, they were soft-hearted.

Which meant there was room to earn trust.

And what was the most essential virtue of a noble lady—or a merchant?

Watching carefully, then seizing the moment to survive.

As evening approached, that first opportunity rolled in.

One of the Shadows preparing the camp snapped in irritation.

“Ah—!”
“What is it?”
“Damn it. My artifact’s broken.”

A female Shadow with dark eyes and deep blue hair tied high removed her ring and scowled.

“That damned monster must’ve scratched it.”

Lillian’s eyes lit up.

Jeanne Baltazar.

A collateral member of the ducal house—and a well-known elite even among the Shadows.

Remember: crisis is opportunity.

Gathering her courage, Lillian stepped forward.

“If you don’t mind… may I take a look?”

The moment she spoke, the Shadows turned hostile.

Shhk. Shhk.

Some half-drew their swords—thinly veiled threats.

To be honest, Lillian loved it.

Ah—so reliable.

Mercenaries were questionable in both character and skill.

But this?

Elite knights escorting her to the border for free?

Absolutely worth easing their guard a little.

She pulled out a magic torch and a bottle of resin from her bag.

When she lit the torch—capable of reaching 1,400 degrees without fuel—the Shadows flinched.

“Does a noble lady usually carry something like that?”
“She’s from a Sacred House.”
“Still… she’s a Tillard.”

Yes. That Tillard—the pinnacle of control-artifact technology.

And ironically, Lillian was direct lineage.

No matter how suspicious the Shadows felt, they couldn’t ignore words spoken by a daughter of that illustrious garbage family featured on page one of scripture.

Eventually, a reluctant Shadow handed over the ring.

“You use a ring-type artifact?”
“Ah… yes.”
“There’s a crack, but the internal circuitry’s intact. That’s a relief.”

If the circuit were damaged, that would warrant a fee.

Backlash from espers was no joke.

But this?

This was manageable.

Lillian’s hands moved quickly.

First, reinforce it with resin—
a transparent adhesive to keep components from detaching.

Then gently heat it with the torch.

Emergency treatment—about as much as she could do here.

“This should hold for now. Get it properly repaired in a city later.”
“…Hah. Th-thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”

She smiled faintly.

“This is about all I can do, after all…”

That should at least earn her dinner.

Just then, a lazy, low voice sounded behind her.

“Hmm. I didn’t know you had a skill like this.”

Here it came—the villain’s specialty.

A passive, probing attack disguised as curiosity.

The impossibly beautiful man tilted his head, smiling.

“Wasn’t the artifact business handled by your sister, Iris?”

“That’s right. I only have a few trivial talents.”

Lillian lowered her lashes and smiled modestly.

Until they reached the border, this was her concept:

Useful-looking, but not truly useful.

Too useful, and she’d be exploited.
Useless, and she might be killed.

“Haha. Still impressive. Instead of running away, why not come to me?”
“Oh my, Your Highness. Why would you say that? Even as a joke, my heart can’t take it.”

Do you think I’d fall for that?

Romance-novel male leads were merciless to any woman who wasn’t the heroine.

And this man especially hated people who overreached.

If I tried to bond over mutual hatred, he’d kill me on the spot.

Just endure it.

After all, her bag was still full of sleeping drugs.

Late at night, the camp lay dark and silent.

“Hm. Hm.”

Ebren Tarandia hummed softly.

At his feet lay scraps of an assassin’s clothing—erased by his ability.

Just then, his closest aide appeared from the darkness.

A black-haired swordsman.

Elias Baltazar.

“…Your Highness. Are you all right?”

“I was just enjoying myself with a guest sent by the Empress.”

Hoarding control stones really was excessive.

“Your Highness… do you truly trust Lillian Tillard?”
“So what? She claims to know a control-stone vein.”
“But—”
“What’s the harm in watching her for a few days?”

If she was lying, he’d simply give her time to tidy up her life.

Then—

“Is it really normal to run away this far because your fiancé fooled around?”

Ebren had been born without human emotions.

He could smile beautifully, yes—but beyond that…

He struggled to distinguish people from objects.

Which was why he relied on Elias whenever human psychology was required.

“…She was known for loving her fiancé for ten years,” Elias replied.
“And?”
“When such a person is betrayed with her cousin, it’s not unusual for her mind to… snap.”

Ebren smiled and squinted his eyes.

He still didn’t understand.

“By the way… you pulled the controllers back, didn’t you?”
“Yes. We ensured sufficient distance so you wouldn’t be uncomfortable.”
“……”
“Your Highness?”
“Hm. Nothing.”

Ebren shook his head.

Among all abilities, Erasure was the most destructive.

Yet for a while now, instinct had been whispering to him.

A good scent.
A controller I like.
I want to touch it. I want to have it.
I want to break it.

Every time he looked at Lillian Tillard, he heard that voice.

Impossible.

…And yet.

Shall I test it, just a little?