Even if the Villain's Daughter Regresses

Sion gazed at the countess with a complicated expression. Watching this, Laila hurriedly sent the maid out of the drawing room.

Once the maid had left, Sion approached the countess and spoke.

 

“Cecile.”

 

Laila held her breath.

Cecile.

It was a familiar name.

She’d heard it from Sion before.

It was the name of the family that had lived with Sion at the orphanage. Cecile was two years older than Sion, if she remembered correctly.

Laila stared blankly at the Countess.

She’s alive.

There’s a surviving family member.

It was a good thing. Definitely something to celebrate. It was happy news, but…

 

‘Give him back to me.’

 

The Countess’s voice echoed in her ears.

At that moment, the countess suddenly hugged Sion tightly.

 

“Sion, I missed you.”

 

Her soft voice was clearly filled with tears.

Sure enough, moments later, the countess’s cheeks were drenched in tears as she pulled away from Sion. Every time she blinked her large eyes, new tears welled up and fell.

It was a heartbreaking scene to witness.

As Laila etched the Countess’s tears into her memory, she lowered her gaze slightly.

She felt strange.

How should she explain this?

 

‘Stranger.’

 

Laila thought of that word and immediately understood.

Yes. It felt like she had suddenly become a stranger.

 

“I really, sniff, missed you so much. Not a single day has passed since we parted without me thinking of you.”

 

Sion quietly let the tearful Countess be.

As if waiting for her to calm down.

After a while, the Countess finally wiped away her tears.

With a more composed face, she looked up at Sion.

 

“Sion, I’m a Countess now.”

“Yes. Congratulations.”

“I didn’t say that to be congratulated; you know what I mean.”

 

The Countess, wearing white gloves, grasped Sion’s wrist tightly.

 

“I’ve come to take you. Let’s go.”

“…”

“I’m sorry I’m late. But seeing you safe makes me think it’s not too late.”

 

The countess smiled slightly. Though it was a smiling face, it looked sad.

 

“From now on, no one will treat you poorly. Absolutely…”

“Sorry, Cecile.”

“Huh?”

“I’m not going.”

“What?”

“Go back alone.”

 

The Countess blinked her wide eyes in surprise.

Laila was just as surprised.

When Laila reflexively lifted her gaze, the Countess shouted.

 

“What do you mean? Are you saying you want to stay here?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“…because I want to.”

“Who’s making you want to? Is it Marquis Hildegarde? Are you doing this because you’re afraid of him? Sion, I told you. I’m a Countess. It’s not just a title. I can protect you as much as you need.”

 

The Countess’s face twisted in frustration as she spoke.

Sion silently shook his head.

 

“It’s not the Marquis; it’s me who wants this.”

“…What?”

“I want to stay here. It’s my decision.”

“…”

“I’m sorry, Cecile. Thank you for coming to find me. I’ll be in touch.”

 

His voice was gentle but firm.

There was no mistaking his sincerity.

 

“What on earth…”

 

The Countess bit her lip and suddenly turned to Laila.

Laila, who had been quietly standing by, flinched when she met the countess’s gaze.

In that moment, the countess’s expression subtly changed.

 

“No way.”

“…”

“…Is it?”

 

What could she mean by “no way” and “is it”? However, Laila couldn’t bring herself to ask. The Countess’s gaze had already returned to Sion.

Was it just her imagination? The Countess’s eyes, looking at Sion, seemed fiercer than before.

 

“I’m making a ridiculous misunderstanding, right, Sion?”

“Wait, Cecile. Let’s talk just the two of us.”

“Whose child is that?”

 

Laila stiffened at the countess’s explosive outburst.

Sion immediately called out to the Countess, trying to calm her.

 

“Cecile.”

“Are you crazy? After what Hildegarde did to us…!”

“Cecile!”

 

Sion narrowed his brows and turned to Laila. Laila saw the distress in his eyes.

Before she knew it, she was already standing up. Laila quickly spoke.

 

“I just remembered something urgent. I don’t think I can stay here any longer.”

“…Laila.”

“You don’t have to follow me, Sion. You can stay here and talk more comfortably. Countess, please take your time and enjoy your visit. Goodbye.”

 

She had no idea what she was thinking when she said goodbye.

As she left the reception room, she encountered a maid waiting in the hallway. Laila told the maid not to enter the reception room until she was called, and then headed to her bedroom, lost in thought.

 

‘Whose child is that!’

 

She wasn’t in pain, yet her body felt heavy.

 

‘After what Hildegarde did to us…’

 

Laila barely managed to climb the stairs.

 

☪︎ ִ ࣪𖤐 𐦍 ☾𖤓 ☪︎ ִ ࣪𖤐 𐦍 ☾𖤓

 

After Laila left, the Countess, Cecile, slumped back into the chair.

 

“What are you doing?”

 

Cecile, with her legs crossed, gestured for Sion to sit down as well.

 

“It seems like we’ll need all day to explain this. Are you going to talk while standing?”

 

Sion let out a small sigh and sat down in the chair where Laila had been sitting.

As soon as Sion sat down, Cecile opened her mouth.

 

“Go ahead and explain. Oh, if it’s about you being crazy, don’t bother. I already know.”

“…”

“Why are you laughing?”

 

Cecile raised her eyebrows as Sion let out a small laugh.

 

“…Just.”

“Just?”

“I once had a dream.”

“A dream? What kind of dream?”

 

It wasn’t a dream, but there was no choice but to express it that way to Cecile.

Sion slowly recounted an event from a moment Cecile couldn’t remember.

 

“In the dream, we were talking like this… and you also called me crazy.”

“Why then?”

“Because I killed too many people.”

“…”

“And I acted shamelessly without feeling any guilt or remorse. That scared you.”

 

Cecile frowned for a moment before letting out a hollow laugh.

 

“What a ridiculous dream.”

“Is it?”

“It’s a completely absurd dream! Something that could never happen in reality.”

 

Sion avoided answering and stayed silent. Cecile seemed to think for a moment before speaking.

 

“In the dream, who were the people you killed?”

“Hildegarde.”

“Did you only kill Hildegarde?”

“People related to him.”

“…Related people?”

“For example, the person who guided you here.”

 

Cecile quickly understood the definition of “related people” in that statement.

 

“You killed an awful lot of people, didn’t you?”

 

The way she spoke reminded Sion of how Cecile talked when they were at the orphanage, even though she was now a countess.

Sion didn’t correct her. He had never felt the need to.

He closed his eyes for a long moment before opening them again.

Being with Cecile made him feel at ease. It alleviated his longing and brought him comfort. That was true.

Even so, he had no intention of going with Cecile.

 

“Cecile.”

“What?”

“I’m sorry.”

“… Take it back. I’ll pretend I didn’t hear it.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I don’t want to hear it.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Hey!”

 

Cecile gripped the armrest tightly and glared at Sion.

 

“You know you’re really out of your mind right now.”

“I’m apologizing because I know.”

“Are you sorry for not being in your right mind?”

“Yes.”

“Shouldn’t you just not do things that warrant an apology?”

“No. I’m sorry.”

 

At this rate, the conversation would continue even after nightfall. Cecile released the armrest and covered her face.

Between her white gloves, a sigh filled with complex emotions emerged.

She lowered her gloves. Cecile no longer glared at Sion. Her gaze was filled with loneliness.

 

“I’m not doing this because I dislike you. It’s you who will suffer the most.”

“There’s only one thing I want, Cecile.”

“…What is it?”

“For her not to die.”

 

Her. It was a tender way to refer to her.

Cecile recalled the figure that had hurriedly left the reception room moments ago.

A figure retreating, seemingly in pursuit.

The precarious steps and the hair that fluttered slightly at the ends.

Next, Cecile thought of the front of that figure rather than the back.

The face, the expression, the gaze.

The eyes that looked at Sion.

Cecile absentmindedly brushed her brow. There were no wrinkles. After rubbing it a few more times, she opened her mouth.

 

“I can see that you’re doing better than I thought. It’s not because this place is a good environment, but because of ‘her’, right?”

“…”

“Do you like her?”