Please Leave The Sickly Villainess Alone

“Everyone step back.”

Jeria approached us.

“What in the world has transpired here?”

Her nonchalant tone left me utterly dumbfounded. Can’t you see someone nearly died?!

Yet I too couldn’t provide an explanation for the precise events that had unfolded.

Especially regarding what had happened to me.

“Don’t tell me someone slipped poison into the Princess’s glass?”

That seemed the most plausible deduction, but…

Jeria scrutinized my appearance before her gaze settled on the emblem etched upon my palm.

“So you have awakened as a healing mage. Then with those eyes, you must have discerned the true nature of what assailed the Princess.”

It was undoubtedly… Recounting the memory, I replied:

“A force resembling written characters was strangling Her Highness.”

“Characters, you say… Then it was a curse. But who would dare curse the Princess!”

Sir Heild exclaimed indignantly.

And the crowd began to stir restlessly.

It was then that the ballroom doors burst open as Luka and the Rayes men came rushing towards us.

“Sister!”

Luka hastened over, swiftly scanning Rachel and me before his chilling tone, sharper than icicles, conveyed his comprehension of the gravity of the situation.

“The audacious culprit who attempted to slay the Princess is present here. No one is to leave until they are found.”

The young Crown Prince’s furious aura radiated such intensity that the knights immediately fell to their knees, obeying his command.

* * *

According to the Imperial mage who had barged in, the beverages we had consumed likely served as conduits for the curse.

All who had partaken were potentially exposed, with the perpetrator specifically targeting Rachel.

After sampling the drinks himself, he had confirmed this assessment.

“Ria, you were the only one to directly confront that force. Can you sense its presence anywhere?”

As Luka stated, ever since becoming aware of the curse-caster, one individual had continuously raised my suspicions.

While others might remain oblivious, to my eyes that had just witnessed the curse’s emanations firsthand, there was nearly a 100% match with the wavelengths radiating from this person.

“That one, without a doubt.”

I pointed towards a waiter profusely wiping his brow with a handkerchief.

Upon being singled out, he froze in disbelief, his pupils dilating with panic – for he had been the one serving our table those beverages.

When I beckoned him over with a gesture, he approached trembling violently, as if weighed down by sacks of rice.

Then, his ashen face contorted in sheer terror as he abruptly turned and bolted towards the exit, fleeing like a madman.

An outright admission of his guilt.

Luka muttered frostily, his expression inscrutable yet colder than midwinter:

“You won’t be leaving here alive.”

Luka extended his hand, clenching at the empty air.

As if grasping the very fabric of space-time itself, the waiter’s escape route began to distort with each frantic step.

“Guh, gahk!”

Had the target been the waiter himself, he would have been crushed into oblivion.

What Luka wielded was not magic, but sword energy.

To manipulate sword energy with such meticulous precision and overwhelming force…

Theoretically, rending space-time itself should have been impossible.

The few nobles conversant with swordsmanship couldn’t conceal their astonishment.

Rumors had claimed the Crown Prince had lost his sword energy, yet witnessing its perfect manifestation left them blinking in disbelief.

Ultimately, the waiter collapsed after only a few strides.

“Bring him here.”

At Luka’s command, Sir Heild swiftly dragged the man before us, forcing him to his knees.

He proceeded to grovel shamelessly, begging for his worthless life.

“If you value your insect’s existence, confess whose orders you were following.”

“That, that was…!”

As the waiter fell silent, biting his lip, the recovered Rachel sprang up and delivered a sharp kick to his head.

“Kughk!”

Wow… Almost a striker-level kick.

“Spill it. I’m offering to spare your life, you know. Do you want to die?”

“Vi… Viscount Louiscone! He gave the order, Your Highness!”

Huh? Why is that man being brought up here?!

Viscount Louiscone was the one who had taken Miss Layola’s chastity and served as the caretaker of Troy Orphanage.

I had never even seen his face before.

Yet the others were all staring in one direction, enabling me to discern his identity.

Miss Layola certainly had… unique tastes.

From the moment the waiter was apprehended, the man seemed to sense the situation, emerging from the restless crowd.

He scrutinized me, then the kneeling waiter in turn.

Suddenly, blood began trickling from his mouth – Viscount Louiscone had bitten his own tongue.

Thud-

As he collapsed to the floor, someone let out a scream.

Viscount Louiscone was a vassal of the Kablos Duchy.

With the primary perpetrator perishing amidst a situation that might implicate higher powers, Duke Kablos, though absent from today’s ball, couldn’t be ruled out as the true mastermind behind his vassal’s actions.

Even if entirely unrelated, having such an incompetent underling reflected poorly on the Duke as his lord.

“Send a missive to Duke Kablos. He must present himself before the Imperial court tomorrow.”

Hence, none contested Luka’s command.

With Viscount Louiscone dead and the waiter effectively confessing the truth, the latter looked up at Luka with a glimmer of hope.

Yet at that very moment, a slash appeared across his throat as he crumpled lifelessly to the floor.

Luka had unsheathed his sword.

Witnessing this scene, Jeria swallowed hard, cowed by Luka’s imposing presence.

It was the Crown Prince’s return that had set the realm abuzz two years prior.

* * *

The ball came to a close.

By the end, word had reached the Empress, who came rushing in.

Making an exceedingly rare official appearance, the Empress embraced Rachel, holding back tears.

As the carriage prepared to depart, my gaze met Luka’s across the path.

Until the very moment the carriage door closed, he didn’t avert his eyes from me.

It seemed he had much to say, but like me, he too needed time to process the startling events.

Watching the setting sun, I raised my hand, studying the reddish emblem etched upon my palm.

“The Rayes have produced many healing mages throughout generations.”

Dad, seated opposite me, took my hand and spoke.

“You did remarkably well. I’m sure you must still be reeling, but are you alright?”

I nodded.

Had I not awakened at that moment, I would have lost a friend, Luka would have lost his sister, and the Empress would have lost her daughter.

The mere thought still sent chills down my spine, but this emblem upon my hand, that warm sensation I had felt – it served as a reminder that none of those tragedies had come to pass, that Rachel was safe.

In contrast, Drehan appeared solemn.

He was the only one present who knew of my affliction.

Aware that my mana was steadily devouring my own lifeforce, how would he perceive my awakening?

It was said that magic grew more potent with increased usage.

Akin to strengthening one’s muscles through exercise. Hence, the most formidable mages tended to be elderly, having spent lifetimes continually honing their craft.

From my perspective, however, amplifying my mana was an ominous prospect.

The very training others undertook to grow stronger would become a toxin for me.

In truth, from the instant I had revived Rachel, an intense heat had begun smoldering within me.

A single healing had already augmented my mana’s potency.

Utterly drained, I leaned against Miller’s shoulder beside me, closing my eyes in exhaustion.

* * *

“Viscount Louiscone is dead. And the Imperial palace has sent a missive to the Duchy.”

Upon receiving this report, Duke Kablos paused, setting down the pen he had been twirling.

“A foolish act. Did he think that would regain my trust?”

The Duke unfolded the Imperial letter, grumbling about being embroiled in this vexing affair.

Viscount Louiscone had completely fallen out of the Duke’s favor following the incident where children had escaped from the Troy Orphanage under his management.

“It’s not like him to embark on such schemes without reporting to me first…”

Muttering thoughtfully, the Duke resumed twirling his pen.

“The Princess Rayes has awakened as a healing mage, it seems.”

“Yes, all present witnessed the Sun’s Emblem manifest. Simultaneously, she has officially registered as a mage with the Magic Tower.”

Laveria was now a fully-fledged healing mage, having completed the requisite registration.

“So the Princess too possessed healing mana akin to Senia.”

“Yes…?”

“Ah, a slip of the tongue.”

No sooner had Duke Kablos uttered those words than his shadow knight, concealed against the wall, slew the servant who had delivered the report.

The Duke’s tongue may have erred, but the servant’s ears had committed the greater transgression by overhearing unintended information.

At least, from the Duke’s perspective.

He addressed his shadow knight:

“The Princess may prove useful once more. Keep vigilant watch over her.”

“Yes, my lord.”

Leaving those parting words for the abruptly vanished shadow, Duke Kablos turned to Enoch Kablos facing him and remarked:

“How unfortunate. Viscount Louiscone was someone you had been fond of since childhood.”

Sipping his coffee nonchalantly, Enoch received the Duke’s mocking smile.

“Human lives are like glass marbles. Applying the slightest pressure shatters them instantly. But don’t forget that you only retain your own life by the grace of the Kablos household.”

A hint of madness flickered in the Duke’s eyes.

It had been the seven-year-old Enoch who had rescued the three-year-old Laveria, already deemed expendable, diverting her to the orphanage instead.

And Viscount Louiscone had been the one to permit Enoch’s actions.

His reports had always contained information about the Crown Prince alone, never mentioning Laveria’s well-being at the orphanage.

Viscount Louiscone’s direct motive for attempting to slay the Princess remained unclear.

If his true target had been Laveria at her side instead…

How conveniently the Duke had just discovered Enoch’s identity as Laveria’s savior.

Perhaps Viscount Louiscone had intended to sacrifice Laveria as an offering to atone for Enoch’s transgression, as he had served as Enoch’s mentor, akin to a father figure.

The black mage who had perished alongside Viscount Louiscone was no ordinary charlatan.

Assigning a life-or-death mission to such an unstable individual had been reckless.

The Duke had already concluded that Viscount Louiscone’s intended victim had been Laveria.

The dimwitted black mage had simply mistaken her for the Crown Princess and cursed Rachel instead.

Truly…

‘A tenacious life indeed.’

Even if destined to become a healing mage, had she been the one afflicted by that curse instead of Rachel, Laveria would have perished without a chance to act.

“All of this was due to your own foolish blunders. Count Menders’s death previously, and now Viscount Louiscone’s demise. Shall I end your life with my own hands next?”

Duke Kablos’s gaze flashed menacingly.

In the ensuing silence, Enoch finally spoke up.

“I made mistakes in my youth. Father, please forgive me…”

Whack!

A dull impact accompanied the Duke’s fist slamming into Enoch’s face.

“There will be no second chance. When the time comes, you will dispose of the Princess with your own hands.”

“As…you…command…”

Outside, darkness had enveloped the sky.