The Abandoned Villainess Decides to Take It All Chapter 47

Chapter 47

Snow and the Rabbit

Ebren Tarandia sneered coldly.

Whenever he thought about Lillian Tillard lying sick in bed, a strange pressure—something like blood pressure, which he had never cared about before—seemed to rise within him.

“So I guess Baltazar blood really does run in me. I’m standing here with my eyes open and still being fooled by my own family.”

“….”

“So tell me, Duke. Why are you tormenting your grandson by taking away his lifeline?”

“How is that child?”

“Why would you need to know?”

Ebren’s displeasure was obvious.

The duke had been influenced by a nightmare?

He didn’t care. The man was fine now, wasn’t he?

“What nonsense did you say to Lillian?”

“…Old stories.”

“What old stories.”

His tone was gradually growing harsher.

“The rabbit.”

“…Ha.”

Ebren ran a hand through his hair.

Of all things, that story.

It wasn’t something he particularly wanted to hide, but knowing Lillian had heard it irritated him in an inexplicable way.

Later, when they held hands again—

The emotions flowing through that connection might be disgust.

But the duke interrupted his thoughts.

“She was calm about it.”

Trusting this blood relative would be worse than sharing a meal with the emperor.

“She told me that death is not something another person gets to decide.”

“….”

“She said that even as family, I had no right to decide the deaths of Your Highness or the other children.”

“That’s quite different from what I’ve heard.”

“…Do you resent me?”

“Duke, I’m not interested in you.”

“….”

“That’s simply how you were born. There’s nothing to resent.”

Ebren meant it sincerely.

The duke wasn’t the only one who had said such things.

The duke’s daughter had said them too.

I tried so hard. Why were you born like this?

The question Why were you born like this? carried the same meaning as When will you finally die?

It didn’t hurt.

But those sighs lingered around his ears like tiny irritations.

Still—

Lillian Tillard… why are you so soft-hearted?

No.

Not soft.

Fragile.

Ebren believed soft and gentle things had little practical value.

So how had he ended up imprinting on someone so completely opposite to him?

…I should go see her.

He had always disliked being far away from her, but lately the unease had grown stronger.

He had vented enough anger for now.

“Just come to the council meetings from now on.”

With that, he turned and left without even looking back.

Meanwhile

Strange.

She didn’t think she had overexerted herself.

Lillian’s thoughts drifted hazily.

Back when she had run her own business in her previous life—buying supplies at dawn and working from home—this level of fatigue wouldn’t even count as overdoing it.

The nursing care is so attentive it makes my back itch.

For example—

She might be resting on the sofa when a customer suddenly arrived at the workshop.

Margaret Rubelli would rush in immediately and stop her from getting up.

“My lady, please lie down! If you need anything, call me!”

“My legs aren’t injured.”

“My lady is currently—!”

“Alright, alright.”

If Margaret started talking about emotional shock again, Lillian felt like she might get goosebumps.

So she obediently stayed in bed and ate her meals there.

Because they had arrived late at the duke’s hideout, Elias Baltazar and the other Shadows kept apologizing.

“My lady, we’re sorry you had to go through such an ordeal.”

“It’s fine. I was inside the castle in the first place.”

Their plan itself hadn’t failed.

The only unexpected thing was that the nightmare had suddenly intensified and pushed the duke toward extreme actions.

The duke is recovering here in the castle now as well.

“Even if we all die together…”

Suddenly Lillian wondered.

Sir Elias.

Sir Jeanne.

Margaret.

And the other Shadows.

Had they survived the war in the original story?

They had been enemies of the male and female leads.

So surely they had all—

“….”

What a pointless thought.

Wasn’t she working this hard precisely to prevent that from happening?

There’s no point worrying about things that haven’t happened yet.

She refused to buy that kind of anxiety.

Absolutely not.

Later

After some time, the villain finally came to see her.

She had expected him to appear the moment she woke up and start discussing their next steps.

Instead, he stood there silently for a long time.

Lost in thought.

Finally, he asked,

“Are you feeling better now?”

“Yes.”

“….”

Was she supposed to report things on her own?

She wanted to ask whether Duke Baltazar was alright, but perhaps this wasn’t the right moment.

“Your Highness, this.”

Lillian held up the blue spider sealed inside a glass jar.

Margaret had tearfully placed it inside the jar herself.

Perhaps Margaret was afraid of spiders too.

“This is proof that House Somnis used the nightmare ability.”

“….”

“We can prove it’s connected to the marquis. Ability traces remain.”

Abilities left traces like fingerprints.

“House Favil will probably cut off Somnis as a scapegoat. They’re not an official vassal house.”

They could easily claim the marquis had acted alone to curry favor with the Second Empress.

“But—”

“To materialize the nightmare like this, you need a small amount of poison from House Favil.”

Ebren quietly set the jar down on the bedside table.

Silence filled the room.

Lillian found the silence extremely uncomfortable.

The Tarandias might lack hearts, but they had never lacked mouths before.

Finally, he spoke.

“So you heard everything after all.”

“What?”

“The rabbit story.”

“Ah.”

Lillian remembered the duke’s words.

“When he was five years old, he erased the rabbit my daughter cherished right in front of her.”
“The prince was smiling, while my daughter fainted.”

Lillian hesitated.

Should she pretend she didn’t remember?

Maybe she could blame it on claustrophobia and say the trauma made her forget.

This feels like the villain’s weak point…

She wondered.

Was this a landmine?

Or simply something to step over?

But wounds only stop hurting while you ignore them.

Once you acknowledge them—

You keep remembering the scar.

And Lillian would likely remember that story every time she saw this man.

So she answered honestly.

“Yes, I heard it.”

“…How embarrassing.”

The villain paused, choosing his words.

Then—

“Olore of the Ministry of Finance.
Chelsea of the Executive Office.
Elwood of the Imperial Court…”

Lillian had never expected to hear the names of imperial leaders pouring out of his mouth.

“You know the names of the Empire’s high officials quite well.”

“Of course.”

Wow.

He might actually become a wise emperor.

Now he only had to fight his younger brother—the male lead of the original story.

With legitimacy, morality, and a peaceful empire free of war…

“If I annihilate just these people today, the Empire’s central administration will collapse.”

“….”

“We’ll also need to bring down House Favil, House Tillard, and House Bolivier among the Five Sacred Houses. But now that I have you, I’m confident we can wipe them out.”

“….”

“Oh. Since you’re injured, we’ll postpone it for about a month.”

…Ah.

So that was it.

He was inviting her to write a Death Note together.

Or perhaps—

He expected her to stay sick forever?