Even if the Villain's Daughter Regresses

With her eyes downcast, Laila recalled.

Laila’s other siblings ridiculed the deceased Marchioness Hildegarde and her children out of spite.

They whispered that she had brought her death upon herself out of foolishness. There were even those who boldly uttered such words in front of her.

Now, Laila understood why they had reacted that way.

They were scared.

They fear that they might experience the same fate.

They desperately tore apart and criticized the dead out of fear.

They shouted that they would never act or be in the same position.

Perhaps when Laila made impulsive moves to save Sion, her brothers came to criticize her for the same reasons.

Laila understood the reasons behind their actions.

But she did not sympathize with them.

Laila didn’t consider anyone in Hildegarde to be her sibling.

Her family had died.

All of them when she was six years old.

 

“After all of them, except me, died…”

“…….”

“My sister’s request became my will.”

 

Survive at all costs. That was the last word Laila’s eldest sister left before dying.

 

“I had to fulfill my sister’s last wishes.”

“…….”

“I had to… That’s all.”

 

Laila finished her story and suddenly realized why she had brought up those words.

She lifted her gaze from below. Sion had somehow managed to sit up in bed.

Their eyes met. Sion spoke.

 

“I’ll make it happen.”

“…….”

“I’ll make sure you can.”

 

First, because she wanted to hear those words.

And the second reason was…

 

“Really?”

“Yes.”

“Then don’t die.”

“…….”

“If you die, there’ll be no one to protect me.”

 

She wanted to say those words.

After a long pause, Sion finally parted his lips.

 

“Yeah.”

 

Perhaps it was the mood, but the words sounded surprisingly heavy.

Anyway, she heard the words she wanted to hear, said what she wanted to say, and, in return, received the answer she desired.

Laila smiled slightly, having abandoned her complex thoughts and acted according to her emotions to achieve everything she desired.

Suddenly, she remembered the answer Sion had given before he lost consciousness in the antique store.

 

‘Because I’m crazy.’

 

Immediately, a natural question followed.

Sion.

Is it just you who’s crazy?

Laila deliberately didn’t seek an answer to that.

 

☪︎ ִ ࣪𖤐 𐦍 ☾𖤓 ☪︎ ִ ࣪𖤐 𐦍 ☾𖤓

 

A week after Sion regained consciousness, he was able to move almost as if nothing had happened.

It took a month before all the bandages were completely removed.

Elvin’s eyes twinkled as he examined Zion’s wounds.

Every time Elvin examined Sion’s wounds, he gleamed with curiosity. He often murmured that he had never seen such a quick recovery in his medical career, almost seeming fascinated with Sion’s body as if conducting some kind of study.

Watching this, Laila could guess why Elvin had become the fourth person in Hildegarde’s estate to address Sion by name.

The witch had disappeared without a trace.

Despite being wanted, there were no reports of sightings coming through the estate.

Laila thought it was only natural.

The witch had the ability to change her appearance completely.

Even now, she probably looked nothing like the face depicted on the wanted posters.

 

‘What if she tries to approach Sion or me again?’

 

She worried briefly, but only briefly.

Laila had recognized that the witch was Angela.

If she recognized her once, surely she’d recognize her again?

 

‘And I think Sion would definitely recognize her.’

 

Her worries dispersed. Laila reassured herself.

Sion’s abdomen bore a large scar.

But Laila hadn’t seen that scar. It was because Sion hadn’t shown it to her.

 

“How about we show each other? I’ll show you the scar on my knee.”

“Forget it.”

 

Laila pretended to grab her skirt and walk, but Sion sternly refused with a hardened expression.

Seeing Sion’s expression, Laila felt awkward.

Even if he disliked it, he didn’t have to harden his expression like that.

Laila, caught in an embarrassing moment, suddenly blurted out:

 

“You have scars on your shoulders too, right?”

 

They were from when he got shot with an arrow in the woods. Laila had seen those scars before.

 

“…I can’t show you.”

“I’m not asking you to show them. I’m just saying, you have nice skin, and it’s a shame you keep getting scars.”

 

Laila said whatever came to her mind. It was truly just something she blurted out without thinking.

Sion unexpectedly fell silent for a moment upon hearing Laila’s words, before stating:

 

“Don’t worry about it. These scars… I can deal with them later.”

“Later?”

 

Sion furrowed his brow slightly. His expression appeared to suggest that he had slipped his tongue. Where did he slip up?

 

“…I can erase them later.”

“There’s a way to erase scars?”

“I’m sure there is.”

 

Laila almost retorted to what sounded like an overly optimistic answer without a plan.

As Sion said, there might be a way somewhere in the world to erase scars.

In a world where there are stones of regression, why wouldn’t there be something like that?

Laila considered the possibility that if Sion managed to remove his scars, she would also have to remove the scar on her knee, but she ultimately decided to make that decision when the time was right.

☪︎ ִ ࣪𖤐 𐦍 ☾𖤓 ☪︎ ִ ࣪𖤐 𐦍 ☾𖤓

It was a sunny day.

It was just before Laila’s fifteenth birthday.

A guest arrived at the manor.

The manor didn’t treat unannounced guests poorly.

And for good reason, the guest was the Countess of Kaiter.

The wife of Count Kaiter, who is said to control trade in the East, came to the marquisate with only a maid and an escort.

She requested to see Laila Hildegarde immediately upon arrival in the reception room, and Laila was promptly summoned.

As soon as she arrived at the reception room, Laila was surprised.

The Countess of Kaiter seemed too young.

 

‘I heard she just got married a little while ago…’

 

As Laila sat down, she tried to gauge the Countess’s age.

Seventeen? Eighteen?

Even if she had generously guessed, she couldn’t have been more than eighteen.

 

‘Well, Count Kaiter is also young.’

 

Count Kaiter, renowned for his ability and youthful appearance, was only twenty. 

Count Kaiter was not only talented but also young and handsome.

His marriage had been a hot topic of gossip for some time. It vividly reached even Laila, who deliberately avoided social news.

 

“Hello, Countess.”

 

Laila greeted the Countess seated opposite her.

The Countess did not return the greeting. She simply stared fixedly at Laila’s face.

Without any explanation, the persistent silence grew longer. Just as Laila began to feel puzzled, the Countess finally spoke up.

 

“They say there’s a boy with blonde hair and black eyes residing in this castle.”

 

Laila was far more surprised than when she saw the Countess’s stern face.

She was talking about Sion.

Laila looked at the Countess again, nervously.

How did she know about Sion? And why did she bring up Sion’s name?

 

“Is it true?”

“…Yes.”

“They say the boy is a slave, and Laila Hildegarde is his owner.”

“…….”

“Is that true too?”

“It’s true…….”

 

Laila started to answer but stopped.

The Countess glared at her fiercely.

Laila froze under the Countess’s gaze. She felt a slight sense of unease.

Then she remembered Sion.

The look she’d seen in Sion’s eyes when he’d been dragged to the Marquisate and the look in the Countess’s eyes as she sat in front of her overlapped, and then she heard a low voice.

 

“Return him.”

“What?”

“He’s not someone to be treated like a slave. He’s my family.”

 

Laila gasped in surprise at the mention of family, and the door to the reception room suddenly burst open.

 

“……Sion!”

 

The Countess stood up abruptly from her seat. Laila also turned toward the door.

Standing there, holding onto the handle of the reception room door, was Sion, who now perfectly embodied the appearance of a young man that no one could call a child.