The Villainess Does Not Want to Die

Chapter 52: Travel

Freedom—what a sweet and alluring word.

Libian might have sat at his desk, someone I could crush if he annoyed me enough, but freedom was no less meaningful because of that.

Regrettably, my late father had left me a significant sum of money.

And Libian, perhaps as part of his guilt, handed over plenty of wealth as well, with the request that I live comfortably and keep in touch.

With it, I could build a house—not as grand as the estate, but still large and elegant.

But I had no interest in that.

Instead, I decided to finally do something I’d been putting off for a long time.

Before visiting Alina, who supposedly lived in a village a day’s journey from the capital, I wondered if I should send her a letter.

No, there was no need to rush. I had all the time in the world.

Libian had offered to send my piano later, saying it was too heavy to carry right away. I’d planned to leave it behind, but if he was willing to send it, I’d gladly accept.

After all, I could forgive him for the time he shot me.

He even offered to let me take a comfortable and spacious carriage, but I declined.

It would have been convenient, but I didn’t want to show up to meet Alina looking like I was still tied to the duke’s family.

Of course, if I really thought that way, I shouldn’t show up in front of her at all.

But I’m a contradictory person by nature—a noble by birth, yet the daughter of a vulgar courtesan.

I didn’t tell anyone about my departure.

I assumed those who cared would follow.

Draped in a tea dress with a light bag over my shoulder, I left my room.

Around my waist was the ukulele I’d bought in a village long ago, and in my hand, I carried a small flute.

My bag contained nothing but some candy and money.

Taking a deep breath, I stepped out of the estate.

The servants, who were pushing open the creaking iron gates, gave me perplexed looks.

When I slipped off my stiff, constricting shoes and walked barefoot, they hesitated as if unsure whether to stop me.

There were a few servants who had shown concern for me.

A pretty girl who didn’t lash out at them and seemed to suffer often invited a certain sympathy.

Though most disliked me, none openly helped me.

After walking a bit past the front gate, I turned back.

The grand estate loomed behind me.

Among the many portraits hanging in its halls, my own would surely be added—white-haired, red-eyed, and unmistakable.

Perhaps someone like me would appear again someday.

Given how Libian cavorted with women at balls, it wouldn’t be surprising if history repeated itself eventually.

Feeling a mix of emotions, I resumed walking.

Walking barefoot was a novel sensation.

I’d walked barefoot in my room or in fits of anger, but strolling along bare ground like this hadn’t happened since I left the orphanage.

Of course, I stepped on a sharp stone, tearing the skin on my foot slightly, and ended up putting my shoes back on.

Still, it felt like a small act of rebellion—a worthwhile experience.

By the time the sun began to set, the sky had turned crimson.

In the distance, I heard the sound of hooves approaching.

I didn’t bother turning around.

I already knew who it was.

The closer the sound drew, the slower the rider’s pace became.

Finally, a one-eyed black horse blocked my path.

The figure atop the horse was imposing.

Looking up at Raphael, I saw an expression on his face that looked as if he might cry.

On his finger was the ring I’d given him.

“Hello, Raphael,” I greeted.

He’d grown so much.

I remembered how small he’d been when I brought him to the estate, so tiny the orphanage’s frail headmaster could lift him with one hand.

Raphael didn’t reply. Instead, he dismounted and marched toward me with angry strides, slapping my cheek.

No, perhaps “stroking” would be a better word.

He didn’t hit me with anger or force, just lightly brushed my cheek with his palm.

Tears were streaming down his face.

Can knights cry like this?

He hadn’t even cried back at the orphanage.

Seeing him so unhappy because of me made me feel even more miserable.

The boy who had grown into an unfortunate man wrapped his arms around me and, with a trembling voice, said,

“If you hate me so much that you never want to see me again, then just throw this ring away and leave. Do you remember what you told me? It wasn’t long ago.”

“Raphael, I was just walking down the road…”

Before I could finish, his tear-filled eyes flashed with anger, and he growled,

“Shut up. That’s not what I’m talking about.”

“Then what are you talking about?”

“You tried to kill yourself, didn’t you?”

His words struck me speechless.

The only ones who knew were Libian, Eileen, the servants present at the time… and Looney.

“……”

“If you don’t hate me, then stay by my side like you promised.

If you die, what happens to me?

If you were going to do that, you should’ve left me at the orphanage.

At least then, I wouldn’t have blood on my hands.”

That wasn’t true, though.

But the atmosphere wasn’t right to argue, so I stayed silent.

Not that I had anything to say, anyway.

Still, if I stayed silent, it might fester and poison our bond.

I didn’t want to grow distant from Raphael.

If I’d done something wrong, I needed to apologize.

“I’m sorry.”

If I’ve done wrong, I should apologize—at least when the other person is in a position to accept it.

It might feel a little cowardly, but Raphael would forgive me. To him, I must seem like a sandcastle, ready to crumble at any moment.

His gaze wavered slightly.

It felt like we could reconcile if I just approached him for a hug, so I slowly stepped closer.

But suddenly, a sharp jolt hit me, and I was thrown backward.

As I moved to embrace him, Raphael screamed and pushed me away as if he were staring at someone—or something—else entirely.

Maybe he thought he’d seen the ghost of the woman I supposedly killed.

I could understand his reaction, but being shoved was nothing new to me. I simply brushed the dirt off my skirt, stepped forward, and pulled Raphael into a hug, repeatedly murmuring my apologies.

“I’m sorry, Raphael.

I shouldn’t have… shouldn’t have done that…”

Trying to die wasn’t just inconsiderate; it was cruel. Still, I left the sentence unfinished, the words dissolving into the air.

Bringing Raphael here and then dying on him would have been the most cowardly, despicable thing I could’ve done.

Had I set him up for this? By pleading for him to stay close to me so desperately, as if my own stability depended on it?

But no—whether he liked it or not, I had brought him to this wretched estate. And now I’d tried to run away.

The two of us clung to each other and cried for a long time.

Neither of us sobbed aloud, but we could hear each other’s breaths, close enough to feel every rise and fall of our chests.

Some time later, we rode through the night on horseback, the atmosphere between us slightly awkward.

Raphael and I muttered apologies to each other in voices only the other could hear.

“The servants will catch up soon,” Raphael said. “They’re bringing a carriage full of your belongings.”

“And where exactly do you think I’ll be staying?” I asked.

“Wherever the enchantment tied to you leads,” he replied.

“And my things?”

“That’s why I brought a warehouse cart along.”

The conversation fizzled out after that.

Given the emotional whirlwind we’d just been through, the silence between us felt stiff.

To break the tension, I decided to start a new topic.

“Do you know where we’re headed now?”

“I’m just following you,” he admitted. “Are we going to the capital again? Hunting season’s coming soon, isn’t it?”

“Do you remember that time, before I brought you to the estate, when I killed that drunk man?”

“…Yeah.”

“I had a simple reason for it back then. If he’d tried to assault some other maid, I probably wouldn’t have interfered.

But he hit and tried to assault the one person who was incredibly close to me—the only one in that cursed estate who protected me and stood by me.”

At the time, I’d lost all rational thought. My emotions took over completely, and I acted without hesitation.

I thought it would be better for me to die than to let Alina get hurt because of me. 

That’s why I sent her away when she said she couldn’t take living in that estate any longer.

I couldn’t hold her back.

She wasn’t even related to me by blood, yet she stayed by my side, shielding and caring for me in that horrible place. It was an absurd and undeserved kindness.

“That knight messed with the only ally I had before you came along. That’s why I did it.

It sounds like an excuse, but at the time, Alina was more than a person to me. She was… she felt like something greater than a god.

Someone so close I could almost touch her.”

Even as I spoke, I felt embarrassed and let the rest of my words trail off.

“So, you’re going to see her now?”

“Yeah. I wonder how Alina will react when she sees me.”

“If you were that close, I’m sure she’ll be happy to see you.”

I hoped so.

I wished for that woman—who left the estate saying it felt like she’d die if she stayed, apologizing for not being able to remain by my side—to greet me warmly.