I Slept with the Villain Holding My Hand Chapter 130

She headed down that path toward the Grand Duke’s residence.

 

But by the time Ariene arrived, the gates of the residence were already tightly shut.

 

As if to completely sever any contact with the outside world, ensuring nothing within could leak out.

 

Only the firmly locked doors greeted her.

 

It was the butler’s choice—to protect the one remaining young master.

 

Ariene didn’t know why she felt so restless, but the thought of pretending not to care and walking away never crossed her mind.

 

In her past life, the Grand Duke had met his end at the age of twenty. That meant, right now, he was barely ten years old.

 

No matter how heartless Ariene had grown up, the thought of a child dying without even knowing why didn’t sit well with her.

 

“Has my face grown so old that my heart has turned into an old man’s as well?”

 

She mocked her own hypocrisy and turned away. With the direct approach to the Grand Duke now impossible, she had to find another way.

 

Next, Ariene made her way to the Rackester Ducal residence.

 

For years, she had lingered by Helena’s side like a shadow, staying within the imperial palace. She had been Helena’s hands and feet, but also her wall and ears.

 

Because of that, Ariene also knew the Emperor had entrusted full authority over this matter to the former Duke.

 

It was information Helena hadn’t bothered to share, as she had no interest in it.

 

‘Please. Please.’

 

In this insane world that had half-returned to her memories, if even this went wrong, there would truly be no way out.

 

Late into the night, as Ariene approached the Rackester Ducal estate, she finally managed to meet Gaia.

 

As expected, the rigid former Duke didn’t even acknowledge her words.

 

In the end, she had to forcibly put him to sleep before obtaining a sufficient amount of his blood. Had it not been for the meddler present, things would have gone much smoother.

 

Themis Rackester.

 

She had often seen him during her time living in Helena’s shadow.

 

For some reason, Themis was strolling through the garden in the dead of night.

 

And worse, he happened to witness the exact moment Ariene struck Gaixia down.

 

“Who are you? A mage?”

 

It wasn’t particularly difficult to put Themis to sleep as he rambled nonsense. Having spent his whole life holding a pen, Themis’s body was far from trained.

 

In an instant, two were already asleep, and just as she was about to leave the ducal manor, a petite young lady appeared before her.

 

Platinum hair fluttering past her shoulders, and vivid crimson eyes that gleamed brightly even in the darkness.

 

The doll-like girl tilted her head and asked, “Who are you?”

 

Her clear voice cut through the silent garden.

 

The old woman, forgetting her intention to leave, watched little Merria with interest.

 

“‘That’ maiden, I see.”

 

Hearing the remark as if she knew her, Merria replied, “Calling me a maiden? Are you someone of high standing?”

 

The old woman faintly smiled at Merria’s sudden shift to formal speech.

 

“What if I am?”

 

“Then I should greet you properly. But in return, you must tell me your family name and affiliation.”

 

Merria was reciting etiquette rules in the dead of night.

 

But Ariene, who had never learned noble manners, shrugged and said, “My name is Ariene.”

 

“Lady Ariene. And your family?”

 

“Don’t have one. I’m a witch, so you’ll understand.”

 

The old woman answered with a bleak smile.

 

“A witch?”

 

Little Merria, seemingly unafraid, looked straight at her and responded, “Witches are beings who wield mysterious magic, right?”

 

She hadn’t expected the maiden to know about witches. Then again, children of that age grew up reading fairy tales filled with all sorts of fantastical beings.

 

A young lady of the ducal house, raised surrounded by fine things—good home, fine clothes, luxury.

 

There was no trace left of the girl who had once clung to the crown prince in tears.

 

Moreover, the last memory she had of her was rather gruesome.

 

‘Hadn’t she been beheaded while gazing up at the lofty crown prince?’

 

Staring at Merria’s still-intact neck, the old woman felt a churning in her stomach and took a step forward.

 

Pat. Pat—

 

The sound of footsteps softly sank into the grass.

 

Merria did not avert her gaze even as Ariene approached her. Finally, when Ariene stood right before her, she spoke.

 

“Shall this old witch offer you a piece of advice?”

 

Merria narrowed her brows as if puzzled by the sudden remark.

 

The old woman chuckled before continuing. It was a spur-of-the-moment comment, driven purely by impulse.

 

“Don’t even think about getting involved with the imperial family later.”

 

“Huh?”

 

“If you do, your head will roll before you know it.”

 

“I was born a noble lady of House Rackester. Do you really expect me to believe I’d die in such a barbaric way?”

 

A surprisingly logical retort escaped the girl’s dainty lips.

 

‘Hah.’ She was quite sharp as a child, it seems.

 

The old woman raised an eyebrow and tilted her head. But her composure didn’t last more than a few minutes.

 

“Ugh— cough.”

 

Something surged up her throat, and the old woman covered her mouth with both hands.

 

A few more coughs followed. When she pulled her hands away, a pool of an unnatural color stained them.

 

“Blood?”

 

The old woman gasped for breath, muttering to herself.

 

What in the world…

 

She had known her body wasn’t the same as before. But this was a hemorrhage severe enough to kill her on the spot.

 

As she stared blankly at the blood on her hands—

 

Tap, tap—

 

A light touch at her waist made Ariene’s eyes drift downward.

 

There, she saw a soft piece of fabric—and a child’s hand that looked even softer.

 

“…?”

 

The old woman frowned, unable to understand Merria’s intention.

 

Merria stared at her blankly before shaking her hand as if to say, Don’t you get it?

 

“Wipe it.”

 

“What?”

 

“Use this to wipe it off.”

 

Though startled by the blood, the young girl seemed to think showing it would be impolite.

 

Merria spoke with feigned calmness, as if handing a towel to someone who had spilled water. But her acting wasn’t very convincing—her small fingertips trembled faintly.

 

The old woman stared intently at the object in Merria’s hand.

 

Upon closer inspection, it appeared to be a ribbon, likely a decorative piece from her nightgown.

 

Not a towel, but a ribbon.

 

The kindness was so absurd and awkward that the old woman’s lips twitched as if she wanted to say something.

 

But even she herself didn’t know what she wanted to say.

 

In the end, Ariene silently accepted the ribbon Merria handed to her.

 

The once pure white fabric gradually darkened into a deep crimson.

 

Merria watched this and asked quietly, “But why did the witch come to our house?”

 

“Because I needed something.”

 

“Did you come to steal?”

 

“No. I came to do a good deed.”

 

The old woman immediately refuted Merria’s words.

 

‘Yes.’ She was trying to do something good. 

 

Though it was quite unlike her.

 

And as she thought that, she finally realized what she had wanted to say to this bold, fearless girl.

 

Holding up the bloodstained cloth, she spoke, “I used it well. Should I repay you for that?”

 

“Hmm. Mother told me not to accept things from strangers.”

 

The haughty girl, now finally showing some wariness, shook her head.

 

All her earlier bravado in talking to a stranger had vanished.

 

The old woman let out a soft chuckle and extended her hand.

 

“Then how about we call it a deal?”

 

“A deal?”

 

“In exchange for lending me this ribbon, you’ll gain a way to extend your lifeline.”

 

“So you’re saying I’ll die again. Witches always say that, don’t they?”

 

Merria scowled deeply.

 

“You’re not scared anyway, are you?”

 

As the old woman teased, Merria immediately nodded.

 

“Not being scared is just not being scared.”

 

Merria’s small hand grabbed the old woman’s wrinkled one.

 

Their pinkies intertwined diagonally at Merria’s doing—a gesture she often made when making promises with Serinia.

 

Merria grinned and said, “A promise is a promise, Granny Witch.”

 

Ariene watched them silently before slowly pulling her hand away.

 

“It’s time for the child to sleep now.”

 

As the sleeping spell was cast on Merria, a small shadow collapsed onto the grass.

Ariene immediately slipped out of the ducal residence.

 

💫

 

“I hope you didn’t bring this up just to dwell on the past.”

Merria muttered sharply.

The conversation with the old woman had only provided minor answers to her lingering questions.

According to her, the old woman had only been involved in the tragedy of the grand ducal residence within the confines of fiction, and the one who had shaped Merria’s lover into what they became was someone else entirely.

In the end, she was back to square one.

“Originally, I intended to give you my power itself.”

The old woman kindly raised a finger and lightly tapped Merria’s smooth forehead.

A wisp of purple smoke flowed from her hand, dispersing into the air. Then, a dark red stain of blood suddenly splattered from the old woman’s mouth.

Wide-eyed at the sight, Merria quickly glanced around.

Remembering the handkerchief in her pocket, she pulled it out and handed it to the old woman.

The old woman let out a soft chuckle, as if something had just occurred to her. She had initially planned to give her own power to the duke’s daughter.

But as she recalled, the lady possessed not a speck of magical energy.

Merria’s body had rejected Ariene’s magic, unable to accept it. Looking back now, perhaps the fever the lady suffered after meeting her was also a side effect of that.

The old woman roughly wiped her mouth and stared at the soft handkerchief in her hand.

“You said there was a debt.”

“…What?”

“In my past life, I was blinded by the empress’s honeyed words and ended up twisting many lives. Among them, there were two whose irreversible fate was shaped by my actions.”

The old woman lightly flicked the ring on Merria’s finger—a ring forged from the fragments of her own halved power.

“Those two were you and the grand duke.”

Had she simply wished for the grand duke’s happiness, she could have given this ring to Shannon.

Whether it was the obsession of someone yearning for warmth or not, the grand duke’s gaze had undeniably been fixed on Shannon.

‘Though, compared to how he treated the duke’s daughter now, it was far too lacking to be called love.’

 

But she chose Merria as the ring’s owner.

The reason was simple.

Ariene had not come here to wish for everyone’s happiness. She intended to unravel, even just a little, the tangled lives of others that she had twisted in her past life.

 

In her previous existence, she had seduced Merria and urged her to poison Shannon.

As a result, the princess met her end with her head severed. That was why Shannon, after being poisoned, was no longer considered by the old woman.

 

When the princess was dying, wasn’t Shannon with the crown prince?

When the Grand Duke confined himself in darkness, wasn’t the crown prince with his lover?

Yet Merria suffered the humiliating death of being beheaded on the execution stand,
and the Grand Duke reached a near-death state by his own hand.

 

“It felt like it was all my fault that you two died miserable deaths alone, so I chose you as the ring’s owner.”

 

That ring was both Merria’s lifeline and the Grand Duke’s refuge.

At the same time, it was the best measure the old woman could take, unwilling to repeat the same future.

 

Hearing those words, Merria clasped her hands tightly together.

‘This ring… it was for me.’

 

She was the one meant to wield the power to save Reukis. Not Shannon, the protagonist of this world, nor anyone else—but Merria herself.