Since When Were You The Villain?

Chapter 68

 

His red eyes stared intently at Sophia.

In front of those eyes, Sophia thought her emotions would be exposed, so she tried to hide her expression.

“The point is, you seem excessively interested in Estelle Niore,” he said.

A shiver ran down Sophia’s spine. Pierced by his pointed words, she felt an urge to escape somewhere.

But under the pouring rain, there was no place to hide from his gaze.

“Is it jealousy?” Killian asked.

For a moment, Sophia felt as though tears might well up uncontrollably.

For some reason, it felt that way.

Maybe it was because he realized the truth she was trying so hard to ignore and became ashamed.

Or perhaps it was because he was teasing her like the instigator of her deepest concerns, prying out her sincerity, that she felt anger.

Or maybe it’s because I’m grateful that he knows the truth, even a little bit.

Complex emotions she couldn’t even comprehend herself.

But that didn’t mean she wanted to get so upset to the point of crying.

“No, really!”

Sophie denied it vehemently, her voice rising unnecessarily as she clenched her fist in frustration.

At that, Killian chuckled softly.

“Too bad.”

“What?”

“I was hoping you’d be jealous.”

“…!”

This guy, seriously!

In the end, Sophia gave his arm an irritated thump with her clenched fist.

To Killian, it was a mere tickle and couldn’t inflict any pain, but it was her own way of expressing a mixture of resentment and protest.

“I don’t get jealous or anything like that.”

“I envy you.”

“Envious?”

“Because I feel jealous.”

“Really…?”

Killian’s gaze softened.

Sophie couldn’t understand.

How vast the emptiness felt after she left.

Whenever Killian returned to the mansion after Sophia’s departure, the air inside the mansion felt unfamiliar.

Her room, once lit when she returned, remained dark from then on.

The cheerful voices of maids chattering on the first floor ceased to be heard.

Even the titbits about her day, as conveyed by Garfield, were gone.

The empty spot where she used to pull books from the shelf was now filled.

They hadn’t even shared a meal properly, yet the absence seemed so significant.

And the memories of her gradually filled the void left by her absence.

During such times, he found himself wanting to see Sophia.

He wondered if she was being slapped by the countess again, if she wasn’t eating properly.

He just wanted to make sure she was doing well, even from a distance.

He contemplated visiting Sophia whenever he found the time, then hesitated and decided against it.

There were times, he deliberately crossed paths with her in the manor.

There were times when he started writing a letter but ended giving up.

But he didn’t come after all.

He felt that he had to cut off his desire to see her if he wanted to prevent their relationship from growing deeper.

What was somewhat fortunate was that after she left, his schedule was filled to the brim with work.

He tried to forget about Sophia and turn away by focusing on his tasks.

He did his best to constantly strive to forget about the time he spent with her.

Even though it had briefly sparked his interest.

He was hoping that with time, these emotions would eventually be washed away. However, the moment he saw her with Mikhail, intense emotions enveloped him, mocking his misconception.

Like a couple, sharing animal hats they had split between them.

The two of them, laughing while enjoying their skewers.

For the first time in his life, he felt boiling jealousy.

In an instant, a flurry of thoughts clouded his mind.

Had Sophia been in touch with Mikhail all this time?

Was she excited to enjoy the festival with Mikhail?

Was I the only one thinking of you and waiting for you to contact me?

Resentment, betrayal, jealousy, and anger are all mixed together.

The emotions surged uncontrollably, but his disciplined rationality barely held the reins on his feelings.

Like taming a wild horse, he struggled to restrain his tumultuous emotions and barely managed to face her.

However,

“…Would you like some?”

Sophia asks if she knows his heart or not, keeping her eyes open and wide.

Why did she have to look so cute in that strange rabbit hat?

Considering what he might like, remembering his dislike for spicy flavours, she carefully chose one skewer to offer him.

“Still, please have one. This one isn’t spicy.”

Her thoughtful consideration for his preferences warms his heart.

The wild emotions that were once like untamed horses now gently follow her lead.

And so, he was here at this moment.

Loving Sophia. (T/L: Ohmmy.)

As the rain poured down even more forcefully, the raindrops drummed against the awning with intensity.

Despite the rain that seemed like it could wash away everything in the world, Sophia stood before him.

There were things in the world that weren’t easily washed away.

“Anyway, I must have been sincere about our engagement.”

Amid the noisy rain, Killian let his confession flow.

The quiet confession was completely washed away by the rain, and Sophia furrowed her brows, repeating, “What did you say? I didn’t hear it properly.”

Sophia looked up at him with innocent eyes, but Killian shook his head.

It seemed unnecessary to say it again.

From the beginning, he had hoped his sincerity would be washed away by this rainfall.

Yet, he was grateful for the rain that didn’t stop.

Regardless of what happened at the festival, he wished it would continue to pour.

He wished to stay here with her.

To use the excuse of the cold that would come at night to hold her in his arms.

However, contrary to his wishes, the drizzle was short-lived.

“It looks like the rain will stop soon.”

He looked towards the gaps in the clouds, through which the sunlight was starting to filter down. The rain, which had been falling lightly, gradually lessened, and the water droplets that had been splashing on the ground calmed down.

In the wake of the departing rain clouds, there were things that remained, untouched by the rain.

“Since there’s a royal ball tomorrow, I will come to Fraus to pick you up,” Kilian said.

* * *

On that evening, Killian returned home a bit earlier to prepare for the upcoming ball.

“Your Grace, did you get caught in the rain?”

Garfield sensed that Kilian’s coat was damp.

“Because of the sudden rain.”

“Ah, you were outside when it rained during the day.”

Killian nodded and headed towards his private study.

“More importantly, are the preparations for the ball going well?”

“Of course. Also, there have been letters arriving from various places as the ball approaches.”

As Kilian and Garfield entered the private study, Garfield spoke.

A bundle of letters tied with hemp cord was placed on the study desk.

Normally, in noble households, the steward would read the letters in advance and only present the important ones to the master. However, Killian always personally opened the letters.

“Perhaps due to the founding celebration, Your Grace, the letters seem endless.”

Most of them were greetings from nobles who had risen in the ranks or introductions of people they wished to introduce.

“You’ve been working hard, Garfield.”

Encouraged by Killian’s words, Garfield smiled and said, “It’s my duty.”

“The bathwater is being prepared. Would you like to freshen up and have a meal?”

“That sounds good.”

He washed away the rain he had been caught in during the day.

After bathing and returning to the study, his gaze was drawn to the bundle of letters that Garfield had mentioned.

He thought about reading them tomorrow since there was also the ball, and he was tired. However, strangely, the letters seemed to bother his eyes.

Perhaps there is an important letter among them.

Eventually, he untied the cord and skimmed through the letters quickly.

From the names and the overall tone of the envelopes, he could guess the contents of most of the letters.

However, one letter caught his attention.

An extraordinarily ordinary yellow envelope.

But the problem was the name written on it: Baron Clifford.

“What terrible handwriting.”

The letters were so difficult to decipher that they required deciphering.

He had never seen a noble with such atrocious handwriting in his life.

Since writing itself was a symbol of the upper class, nobles took their handwriting seriously.

They believed that handwriting was a reflection of one’s personality, and beautiful handwriting showcased a person’s dignity.

That’s why usually, as they learned to write at a young age, they would receive handwriting corrections as well.

However, Baron Clifford’s handwriting was as crooked and wobbly as that of a six-year-old child.

Moreover, it seemed like the letter had been hastily sealed, sticking out beyond the edges of the envelope.

“Baron Clifford…”

He was a noble from the southeast.

Because he was a relatively unknown noble from a small region, it took Killian a while to recall his name.

He had only heard the name from afar; they had never contacted each other before.

He hadn’t even exchanged glances, let alone received a letter of greeting.

No, had he ever made an appearance at the capital?

“But why would he…?”

Small details pricked at his intuition.

In the end, Killian roughly tore open the sealed envelope.

Inside was a letter written on cheap, low-quality paper.

The handwriting was so rough that the pen had scratched and smudged the words.

It was as if the pen had caught and smeared the ink, making the letters sprawl and twist.

A noble sending a letter to a Grand Duke on such low-quality paper was almost unheard of.

With a sense of suspicion, he carefully unfolded the paper, only to be met with the sprawling, uneven handwriting once again.

The amount of text written on the letter paper wasn’t much.

As usual, it began with formal greetings towards him.

[Greetings, Your Highness. I am known as Hank, who served the former Grand Duke.]

Not Baron Clifford… Hank?

He introduced himself as having served the former Grand Duke, not as Baron Clifford.

However, Killian couldn’t recall the name at all.

Considering he had come to the capital at a young age, it was natural.

But Kilian got goosebumps at the name of the servant he couldn’t remember.

“Could it be… Is this…?”

To be continued….