The Villainess's Daughter Is Getting an Obsession

The man from the palace was Baron Reynolz Korte, an aide sent by Bella whenever she had something to convey or letters to send to Ian. A close associate of the emperor and Ian had encountered him a few times. Despite his sharp demeanor, Reynolz was quite amiable and harbored no hostility towards Ian.

 

Ian, who usually refrained from initiating contact, only responded to the quarterly updates they exchanged. So, it was surprising to receive another visitor so soon, stirring a flutter of concern in his heart. It was an anxiety he hadn’t felt in a long while, mocked only by Reynolz’s laughter.

 

“It looks like you’ve been exercising. As for the imperial palace, what could possibly be amiss? Both of them are doing well. Why not visit them yourself? The emperor would certainly welcome you.”

 

“That’s… I’m fine.”

 

Reynolz seemed to have anticipated such a response, expressing his disappointment.

 

This was perhaps the longest conversation they had had. The last time Reynolz visited, their exchange was limited to mere greetings.

 

“I’m here on Her Majesty’s orders to deliver a letter to you.”

 

Ian, without saying a word, extended his hand. Reynolz, now familiar with the procedure, smiled and opened the box. Inside was a white envelope, pristine despite the long journey, with the date indicating it was from just yesterday. It seemed he had traveled via a gate to reach the north so swiftly.

 

Ian held the envelope without opening it. Reynolz, knowing Ian’s aversion to fuss and his preference for solitude except with the imperial couple, stepped back. “I’ll relay that you’re well, as usual. I plan to stay in the village for the day. The carriage wheel is completely broken, and I need to have it repaired.”

 

“Is that so?”

 

“I tried to get it fixed today, but I was told I could only see the repairman tomorrow morning. So, if you have any messages, you can find me there. After all, there’s only one inn, isn’t there?”

 

Ian, touching the seal of the letter, nodded. “Understood. Travel safely.”

 

“Yes, then. Take care of yourself.”

 

That concluded their meeting.

 

Reynolz quickly organized his belongings with the merchant, laughing before climbing back onto the carriage. Soon, the sound of the carriage faded, and silence enveloped Ian’s surroundings once more.

 

Ian turned and entered his house, breaking the seal of the letter. The simple interior, devoid of decorations but filled with sunlight through quality transparent windows, was revealed. Ian, who wasn’t particularly fond of sunlight, had installed wooden windows that blocked out light. However, the carpenter sold him the best windows he had, claiming they were worth the expense. Still, he appreciated the natural light that allowed him to move around the house without artificial lighting during the day.

 

After wiping off the remaining sweat with a towel hung on the wall, Ian examined the letter’s contents.

 

“…”

 

His brows furrowed slightly as he leaned against the table, unable to take his eyes off the letter.

 

 

Expecting a usual inquiry about his well-being or health, Ian was surprised to find Shubart Rivaho’s name mentioned. The letter contained a brief warning about some of Shubart’s followers being in the north and advised caution. Though the message was stark and seemingly indifferent, it was very much in Bella’s style—outwardly tough but inwardly sensitive and cautious.

 

Re-reading the same lines, Ian pulled out a long, metallic object from his desk drawer. Scraping it across the table, sparks flew, igniting a silver oval tray with thin wood shavings on it. The letter Ian tossed onto the tray was quickly consumed by flames. Initially, Ian had kept every letter from Bella, but after spending a whole day engrossed in them, he began to burn them after reading, a practice he continued.

 

Ian opened another drawer to check for spare stationery, then locked it and turned away.

 

* * *

That night, the wind started blowing unusually hard as if heralding a storm. The windows rattled noisily, prompting Ian, who was about to sleep, to rise and secure them. Recalling the day’s peculiar cloud formations, he realized a storm might indeed be approaching.

 

After securing the rattling windows and drawing the curtains, Ian sensed a presence outside. Casually pulling the curtain aside, he surveyed the outside without moving, relying on the dark interior to conceal his presence. Knowing that people rarely ventured this way without purpose, Ian placed his sword, always leaning against the window, by his side. The unexpected visit, especially after receiving the letter that morning, made him particularly alert.

 

“…”

 

Silence prevailed except for the wind, but Ian was sure there was a sign of someone from outside. From the way they were moving, it seemed like they had been there for a while, and it was clear they weren’t ordinary people.

 

Deciding against sleep, Ian leaned against the sofa with his sword nearby. Soon, he heard rustling near the front door, followed by a knock.

 

“…”

 

Ian remained still and lowered his sword. They knocked twice more.

 

“Are you there?”

 

Knock, knock.

 

“Is there anyone inside?”

 

Only then did he stand up and turn on the lamp in the living room. Then, he placed his sword by the door and unlocked it.  Opening the door, the light revealed a man’s figure.

 

“Who are…?” Ian began to ask but then stopped himself as the visitor burst into laughter.

 

“Hard to believe, but it’s really you.”

 

The man’s voice, devoid of hostility and filled with joviality, belonged to someone Ian knew well.

 

A deep scar bisecting one eyebrow, dark reddish-brown eyes, much paler skin than Ian’s, and a similar height. It was a comrade who had trained under Shubart Rivaho with Ian after Bella saved them.

 

Ian had left after Shubart’s death, but Limon had departed much earlier. It had been over five years since they last saw each other, and now Limon stood before Ian.

 

“Limon.”

 

“I’ve been looking for you for a long time. Finally, we met again. It’s been a while. Do you mind if I come in?”

 

Confirming Ian’s earlier suspicion, there were three more men behind Limon.

 

“You guys can go back to the village. It’s okay for me to enter, right? Are you living alone?”

 

Limon gestured for the men to leave, and they nodded before retreating. Then, as if meeting an old friend after a long time, Limon smiled and asked.

 


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