I Slept with the Villain Holding My Hand Chapter 120

💫

 

Shannon excused herself briefly, leaving Merria alone with her thoughts.  

 

When Shannon returned, Merria remained deep in contemplation.  

 

“…”

 

“…”

 

Shannon carefully placed what she’d brought on the table, her eyes darting nervously. She hesitated, watching for the right moment to speak, before finally approaching as the soup grew cold.  

 

Gently, she tapped Merria’s shoulder.  

 

Merria turned, her expression questioning.  

 

Shannon fidgeted before asking, “Aren’t you hungry?”  

 

Her eyes shone with inexplicable hope. The room Merria had been in was pitch-dark—Shannon was certain she hadn’t eaten the food left earlier.  

 

‘Who could eat after being terrified enough to bloody their hands?’  

 

Yet Shannon’s question stemmed purely from Ariene’s influence.  

 

Back when Shannon lived in Magnor Manor’s annex—  

 

Overnight, she’d gone from maid to the Count’s acknowledged bastard. Some might call it luck, but to Shannon, it marked the beginning of her misery.  

 

The maids who once laughed with her now glared with resentment.  

 

Lady Riley, already difficult, grew vicious. 

 

The Count paraded her at noble gatherings like a dressed-up doll.  

 

Everything was terrifying and unfamiliar.She wanted to escape—but like a bird that never learned to fly, she couldn’t even conceive of leaving.  

 

She’d beg the Count on her knees to let her return to being a maid. He’d abandon her in the empty annex without a glance.  

 

On the day the Count struck her, amid Riley’s screams and the Countess’ scornful gaze—  

Ariene was the one who stayed.  

 

Whenever Shannon lost her appetite from crying, Ariene would coax her to eat warm soup.  

 

At first, Shannon refused, but the warmth always revived her.  

 

It was Ariene’s unwavering method.  

 

Now, Shannon wanted to offer Merria that same comfort.  

 

Another reason? Her gilded cage only hosted Ariene and Deston as fleeting guests.  

 

Merria was her first real visitor in ages.  

 

For these reasons, Shannon had prepared simple offerings. Proudly, she presented the meal.  

 

“I brought some things in case you needed them.”  

 

The sandwich and juice might seem meager for a noble like Merria, but to Shannon, they were perfectly adequate.  

 

Merria’s injured hands provided a convenient excuse too.  

 

“You brought this… for me?” 

 

Merria eyed the plate.  

 

Shannon nodded. “Ariene won’t return until morning, and you haven’t eaten all day.”  

 

She pushed the plate toward Merria. In her naivety, Shannon assumed Merria would stay here with her indefinitely.  

 

Merria studied Shannon briefly before sliding the plate between them.  

 

“Let’s eat together.”  

 

Unaware of Merria’s wariness, Shannon grinned as she picked up a sandwich.  

 

“Really? This feels like a secret picnic, miss. Not that I’ve ever been on one.”  

 

She giggled lightly.

 

Merria slowly shifted her gaze at Shannon’s innocent expression. Despite her intention to stall, Shannon immediately began eating.  

 

Truthfully, Merria didn’t suspect ‘Shannon’ of poisoning the food.  

 

But that ‘Ariene’ person? Untrustworthy. Had Reukis’ ring still been on her finger, she could have instantly teleported to the ducal estate—but now, even that was gone.  

 

Caution was necessary. Shannon, seemingly hungry, took big bites of her sandwich.  

 

Merria set hers down untouched.  

 

“Aren’t you going to eat?” Shannon asked, puzzled.  

 

“My stomach’s uneasy… Sorry, after you went to the trouble.”  

 

“Oh, no! I didn’t consider you just woke up. I brought some fruit too—mango, strawberries, cherries…”  

 

“Cherries. I’d like cherries.”  

 

Merria’s eyes widened as she interrupted Shannon’s counting fingers.  

 

Beaming, Shannon fetched the fruit plate. Merria plucked a cherry from its stem—then offered it to Shannon instead of eating it.  

 

“Have this too.”  

 

She forced a smile, masking her tension.  

 

Shannon’s surprised expression melted into a soft grin.  

 

“Sorry…”  

 

“…?”  

 

“I get coughs and fevers from cherries. You enjoy it, miss. Ariene says they’re very sweet.”  

 

Her words trickled into Merria like scattered puzzle pieces snapping together.  

 

Merria drove the wedge deeper.  

 

“Strange—last time, you drank cherry cocktails without issue.”  

 

“Huh?”  

 

“And we made plans to meet at the hunting tournament.”  

 

“I don’t quite follow…”  

 

“Your ring’s missing too.”  

 

“Miss?”  

 

“Ha… Haha.”  

 

Merria’s abrupt laughter burst out.  

 

Shannon stared, her expression unreadable. Though socially inexperienced, even Shannon sensed Merria’s displeasure.  

 

She just couldn’t pinpoint why—they’d only met once, hadn’t they?  

 

Shannon didn’t even know Merria’s name.  

 

“Shannon.”  

 

Hearing her name spoken so familiarly, Shannon tilted her head.  

 

‘Did I tell her my name…?’  

 

Merria’s fading smile vanished entirely.  

 

“When can I meet this ‘Ariene’?”  

 

Shannon met Merria’s sharp crimson gaze. Her eyelashes fluttered nervously.  

 

💫

 

They now sat at opposite ends of the room.  

 

The silence helped Merria organize her thoughts. She retraced her memories.

  

Shannon arriving early at the barracks. 

 

The two heading inexplicably into the forest.  

 

‘Why?’  

 

Shannon had claimed she’d ‘lost’ the ring. But why had Merria followed without question?  

 

Current Merria would have bombarded her with questions.  

 

The idea of ‘losing’ the ring made no sense.  

 

Merria had experienced the ring disappearing before—waking to find it gone.  

 

But after Reukis mentioned sensing similar power from Shannon, and seeing the ring on her finger, she’d assumed it had simply returned to its rightful place.  

 

Now, doubts festered.  

 

This ‘Shannon’ didn’t react to cherries like the real one.  

 

Didn’t recall their plans. Had no ring.  

 

And that name—Ariene—loomed like a shadow over everything.  

 

Merria’s fingers curled into fists. She needed answers.  

 

And she’d get them—from Ariene herself.

 

Merria had never once felt like she had ‘lost’ that ring. When she first noticed its absence, she thought it had ‘disappeared’—only later did she assume it had returned to its original owner.  

 

This perception stemmed largely from the fact that Merria had never once tried to remove the ring herself.  

 

The old woman’s warning—Never take it off—had been seared into her mind.  

 

Since she’d never attempted to remove it intentionally, the idea that it could slip off like ordinary jewelry had never occurred to her.  

 

Hadn’t Shannon said she received the ring from the same old woman in the same way?  

 

Yet Shannon claimed she had dropped it in the forest.  

 

This contradiction coiled tighter in Merria’s thoughts until she finally pinpointed its origin, ‘The real Shannon Magnor wasn’t the one I met.’  

 

The moment she articulated it, a chill ran down her spine.  

 

If the Shannon she’d spoken with, laughed with, was someone else wearing her face—Then the strange dissonance, the gaps in conversation, the shifted demeanor—all of it made sense.  

 

“Now that I think about it… the ring was too big on Shannon’s hand.”

 

Small details she’d overlooked now flooded back relentlessly.