I Became the Villain’s Lost Daughter Chapter 76
“Hah…”
Leaning my weary back against the carriage seat, I sighed.
Despite having done nothing at the banquet today, my fatigue level had reached a breaking point.
“I haven’t even danced, just been stuck on this floor.”
Of course, I knew why I was exhausted.
It was because I was constantly thinking about Violet, who was following me around at the banquet hall.
She was probably trying to be invisible, but unfortunately, I could see everything.
In the end, the first person to raise the white flag was me, who was trying so hard to avoid her gaze.
‘I was more bothered by the way she was staring at me.’
Violet looked confused as I rushed up to her, as if she didn’t think I’d notice.
She nodded vigorously at my suggestion that we just walk together, and clung to my side until we left the banquet hall.
‘…And that was the end of our friendship.’
Violet, who had been upset that I had called her Lady Xavier until we parted ways, quickly smiled and waved at the words, “See you tomorrow.”
“Ha…”
I guess life never goes according to plan after all.
“Are you tired?”
Sighing again, Aaron, sitting in front of me, asked with a low chuckle.
I’ve never been a very outgoing person to begin with, and worse, I’m a bit shy around strangers.
In social circles, it’s kind of okay, but I don’t really like meeting people in private like this.
“…Brother knew.”
It was obvious from Aaron’s reaction earlier that he knew that was what Violet would do when she saw me.
“Mmm.”
Aaron’s eyes narrowed slightly and he cleared his throat.
“I swear, I panicked. I’ve never met her before, and she suddenly wants to be my friend…”
Mumbling under my breath in weary tones, I leaned my head heavily against the carriage wall.
“I knew about it because Marquis Xavier told me, and he asked me to keep it a secret from you, so I couldn’t help it, I’m sorry.”
Seeing me like that, Aaron comforted me in a soothing voice.
Well, since it was a secret, it was understandable that he didn’t tell me…
“I didn’t expect her to be so aggressive, and I didn’t realize it would make you uncomfortable. I’m sorry.”
The apology in Aaron’s words somehow made me instantly forgive him, and I shook my head.
“No, it’s not… Well, I’m a little tired, but it wasn’t bad.”
Though I still don’t know why she liked me so much, but…
Muttering softly, I covered the corner of my mouth where a yawn was about to escape.
The last thing I wanted to do was get cleaned up and into bed.
Tomorrow’s masquerade ball starts an hour before midnight, so I should be in bed by ten.
After arriving at the mansion, I dozed off and thanks to the nimble hands of the maids, I was soon in bed.
‘I guess my father hasn’t come back yet…’
That was my last thought before I fell into a trance.
💫
A few hours ago.
As the countless carriages passed through the palace gates for the banquet, someone was trying to get out of the palace.
“Your Highness… must you go today, I’d rather go myself, you usually always ask me to, but on a day like today.!”
Callian’s brow creased as the Baron refused to let go of his hood.
“…Let go of it.”
“No, I’m not letting go!”
Callian said in an irritated voice, but the overly concerned aide didn’t even pretend to hear him.
“It’s the Master’s home. It’s not exactly the safest place in the world, so what’s your problem?”
“The route is not safe, and I can’t guarantee that what happened last time won’t happen again, besides, it’s been a while since you were stabbed, and you’re heading out alone again!”
The chill in Callian’s eyes sent a shiver down his spine, but Baron stood his ground and spoke his mind.
He knew, of course, why his lord was taking matters into his own hands.
“After three years, I have the link to the answer to this bloody headache, and you expect me to sit still?”
Exactly. About that.
Callian had been suffering from unexplained headaches for three years.
Sometimes they’d come four or five times in a day, sometimes they’d be gone for over a week.
But the place where Callian was a battlefield.
In a place where life and death could mean the difference between seconds and hours, the sudden onslaught of headaches was more than just dangerous, it was life-threatening.
That’s how half of the scars on his body now came to be.
“Your judgment must be warped by your exploits where you were sent to die. Isn’t that right?”
Callian mocked, his voice low.
“Your Highness…”
His words were true.
It was the Empress’s favorite faction, the First Emperor’s faction, that had pushed the Emperor to send Callian off to war.
As a result, Callian had been sent to the field without the protection of the Imperial Knights.
He was unable to enlist the aid of his supporters until he emerged as a war hero.
“Baron, I need to know what the Empress was up to.”
Callian’s bitter words forced Baron to take a step back.
💫
Riding out of the palace unnoticed, Callian sped away.
After a little over five minutes of riding on the less traveled roads, he came into sight of a huge mansion.
As he made his way to the small entrance at the back of the mansion, the guards, seeing him, quietly stepped aside and opened the door.
Their mouths, loyal to their master, were unconcerned.
“Whoa, slow down.”
Callian went inside and pulled the reins loosely, his steed slowing to a crawl.
When it slowed to a halt, he leaped from his mount.
In front of it was a large glass greenhouse. As Callian patted his stallion’s head, the great black horse neighed and stamped its feet.
“Good work, Lexie. Have something to eat and wait for me.”
He left his horse in the care of the servant who approached quietly, and strode familiarly into the greenhouse.
He strode briskly to the center, where he found the two waiting for him.
“I see I’m the last to arrive.”
“It’s been a long time, Lord Callian.”
“It’s been a long time since I’ve seen you, too, Lord Fern.”
It was Fern Irish, his voice soft and gentle, who answered Callian’s words.
“I apologize for my tardiness, Master.”
After a brief exchange of greetings, Callian bowed to the other man.
He was the one person in the world that the cynical Callian could count on.
“…I would have told you to do as you please, Your Highness, if not for the fact that you’re a man of your word.”
Aslan, still standing, returned Callian’s greeting expressionlessly and gestured to the chair in front of him.
“You don’t have to do that if you don’t want to, but I’d prefer to sit here now.”
With a wry smile, Callian took his seat, and Fern, standing behind Aslan, tapped the staff in his hand once on the ground.
A fine line of magic spread out, enveloping the entire greenhouse.
Now no one outside would be able to see or hear anything from within.
“Now you may speak in peace.”
The atmosphere between the three of them became more serious than before as Fern cast the spell.
“…Master, what do you mean by the link to my headache?”
Callian spoke first, his voice low and to the point.
He had entrusted Cayden Ambrone with the investigation, but it was Aslan’s power that had ultimately discovered the link.
Or, more precisely, Fern Irish, one of the top three greatest mages in the Empire.
“Fern, explain.”
“Yes, my lord.”
At Aslan’s words, Fern laid his staff aside for a moment, then pulled something from his pocket.
It was a white paper envelope about the size of his palm.
“Is that from what I sent you?”
Callian’s eyes narrowed at the thin needle inside.
“Yes, it was.”
Nodding at Callian’s words, Fern wrapped his fingertips in pure white magic.
“Then please look this way.”
Then slowly, he brought his finger toward the needle in his other hand.
The distance between the needle and his finger grew smaller and smaller.
Zap—
Black sparks flew around the needle as it met the pure white magic.
The sparks lasted a second or so, then died down, and the needle shattered in an instant.
“…What was this?”
Callian asked, his eyes lowered as he watched the scene unfold.
Even without an explanation, he could tell that the needle had a different identity than its normal appearance.
In response to his question, Fern wiped a bead of sweat from his brow.
“What I just wrapped around my fingertips is a concentration of pure magic.”
“Pure magic?”
“Yes. I poured two-thirds of my magic into it.”
Callian’s brow furrowed slightly at that.
The smirking mage made it sound easy, but it was anything other than that. Even the finest of mages, Fern, would sweat over the mere gathering of magic on his fingertips.
“A third of your magic would not be normal.”
“Well, statistically speaking, it’s about three times as much as the average high-level mage. Even the most advanced wizards can’t do more than five.”
“…So what does that mean?”
At Callian’s words, Fern’s previously amused expression turned serious.
Then he spoke a final word, his voice sharp, “Black magic.”
The words that came out of Fern’s mouth were the last thing Callian wanted to hear.
It was in a category that even Aslan, his Master, could not possibly handle.
Note for Male Lead
Comments (0)