I Slept with the Villain Holding My Hand Chapter 150 - The Villain’s Ending

 

💫

 

The chillingly silent underground prison of the imperial palace, where only darkness exists.

 

Before Helena, sitting gracefully inside the iron bars and gazing into the void, someone appeared.

 

“Lady Helena.”

 

She shifted her gaze and stared at the person who had spoken.

 

“Shuel.”

 

His presence here was hardly surprising. After all, Helena herself had raised him to excel in stealth and concealing his presence.

 

Before she knew it, Shuel had stepped inside the cell and was looking down at her with teary eyes. She had always been the one looking down from above.

 

Uncomfortable with the reversed perspective, she twitched an eyebrow.

 

Shuel immediately knelt, bringing himself eye level with Helena. The cold stone floor pressed against his knees.

 

“Run away with me. Please?”

 

At his naively straightforward words, Helena let out a small laugh.

 

Shuel whined like a child, and Helena responded with laughter or answers—had this not been their current location, it would have been no different from any other day.

 

But alas, the two were not in her chambers but in a desolate underground prison.

 

Helena kept her faint smile as she spoke, “And if we run away, what then?”

 

“To a place with no people—no, to another country. I’ll earn money there. I have skills, so I’ll find work quickly. All you have to do is praise me like you always do—”

 

“Shuel.”

 

Helena cut him off as he eagerly laid out his idealistic plan.

 

“I am the Imperial Consort. That means I belong to the Emperor.”

 

“…”

 

“If I were to take your hand and flee, what would become of Dominique? He would be branded not as a prince but as the son of a fugitive, dragged down into ruin.”

 

Helena reached out and lifted Shuel’s chin with her fingers.

 

As expected. His face was filled with discontent.

 

“If you truly care for me, then before His Majesty awakens, you must gather evidence that all my crimes are false accusations and secure Dominique’s future.”

 

“I’ll do it. I’ll do everything. Just grant me one last wish.”

 

Shuel nodded with bloodshot eyes. He tightly grabbed Helena’s wrist, which was touching his face.

“Kiss me.”

Helena’s face stiffened upon hearing Shuel’s words.

“Shuel.”

“I could run away with you right now. But I won’t. I’ll do everything you want… so kiss me.”

Shuel was almost crying.

When was the last time she had seen him so raw, so vulnerable?

Helena, lost in distant memories, shook her head slightly.

“No.”

“Of course. Because you love that damned Majesty.”

A sneering remark slipped through Shuel’s twisted lips.

“…What?”

“I’ve watched only you for over a decade. How could I not know where those unbearably beautiful eyes are looking, what emotions they hold?”

“No.”

“You could’ve used me to kill the Emperor and make the Second Prince the heir anytime. But you never gave that order.”

“That’s because Dominique’s faction wasn’t fully prepared—!”

“The forest explosion that turned the Emperor into that state—it was my doing.”

 

Slap—

 

Shuel’s head snapped to the left. Though it was his cheek that was struck, the pain was nothing compared to the despair he felt.

Helena exhaled sharply and gripped his collar.

“How dare you speak so recklessly.”

Her eyes, usually as blue as the sea, were now bloodshot and filled with shock.

Shuel, tasting the metallic tang in his mouth, stubbornly fixed his gaze on her face.

“Do as I say. Understood?”

Helena ground out each word as if chewing them.

A viscous emotion welled up in Shuel’s darkened eyes.

 

💫

 

At that moment, Dominique was in a small bar near the territory allotted to him.

Since he was destined to live in the imperial palace for the rest of his life, he had a strong tendency to remodel his lands as he pleased.

Thanks to that, the village transformed into a prime hunting ground had become a tourist spot frequented by those with a warlike disposition.

The lord himself had taken time out to go hunting, regretting that the hunting tournaments had been suspended.

It was rather unfilial behavior for someone whose father was hovering between life and death. But to him, Aprion was less of a father and more of his mother’s lover—a more fitting title.

The reason Aprion doted on Dominique was likely not because he was a prince, but because he was Helena’s child.

Perhaps Dominique’s very birth was less a fruit of love and more a means to reassure Helena, who felt threatened by Altheon.

The fact that no other siblings had been born after Dominique, despite the emperor and empress still spending nights together, was proof of that.

 

When the emperor collapsed, his mother urged him to stay close to the palace.

It seemed she didn’t like the idea of Altheon handling everything.

But Dominique, as always, left the palace.

This time, he even refused all his cumbersome entourage. He was tired of the whispers of women in his ear and the forced smiles of nobles trying to win his favor.

So he rode and shot arrows, pushing his body to the limit until exhaustion took over. Then, his aide came running in a panic, delivering shocking news.

“Her Majesty, the Empress…”

The execution of the empress had been decided.

The impact of that single sentence was immense.

Newspapers, catching the scent, clamored for access to the palace. Those present at the scene spread the story as if they had witnessed a heroic tale.

Within hours, the entire capital knew of the empress’s crimes and the trial’s outcome.

And in less than a day, the whole empire was abuzz with the news.

 

Dominique hastily boarded a carriage back to the imperial palace.

Time was running out.

Perhaps so much so that he might lose his mother before he could even try to stop it.

 

💫

 

Helena stood before the crowd in attire befitting the castle of Robietta—simple yet dignified.

Whether delivering a speech from the podium or offering a toast at a banquet, she had always carried herself with grace. Born as the daughter of a provincial count, she believed she had done well every time she ascended to such positions.

She had never hesitated to sacrifice countless lives to become the emperor’s mother.

 

But today felt unfamiliar in an entirely different way.

The sharp gazes of those staring at her cut through her like blades.

All night, Shuel’s words and final glance had haunted her thoughts.

For a fleeting moment, she even entertained the absurd hope that Aprion might miraculously wake and stand in her defense—but the self-loathing that followed made her let out a hollow laugh.

Had she played the role of the emperor’s beloved for so long that she had deluded even herself?

 

“This way.”

The knight escorting her to the execution ground gestured toward the blade.

Helena kept her head high, staring straight ahead as she walked forward.

There was no defiance in her demeanor, so she remained unbound, her appearance immaculate.

A guillotine, several times her height, awaited her.

 

“The execution of the condemned shall now commence.”

The executioner pushed Helena forward, positioning her neck beneath the blade.

Any sense of reality had long since fled. The only thing that piqued her interest now was where she would go after death.

Probably somewhere called hell.

 

And in her heart, she prayed, ‘Even if Aprion wakes, let him come to me in the end.’

If there was an afterlife, the place she was headed was surely wretched.

‘You’re partly responsible for shaking up my life too.’

Helena furrowed her brow slightly, picturing Aprion resting peacefully.

 

Thud—!

 

Some turned away, closing their eyes tightly, but Shuel never lost sight of her until the very end.

“You’re wrong.”

Shuel muttered, pressing her trembling eyelids firmly.

“Lady Helena. This isn’t right.”

He didn’t know what would have been better at that moment. But one thing he did know—no matter the choice, it was better than Helena dying.

Lowering the hand that had covered her eyes, Shuel vanished without a trace.

 

That night, when Dominique arrived in the capital, he was greeted by two corpses and an empty imperial palace.

The one who had killed the emperor was caught at the scene and executed.

It was an absurdly futile end, rendering the breach of the palace’s ironclad security utterly meaningless.

The knight who last locked eyes with the culprit said this:

‘The madman was smiling like a child waiting for a reward.’

The man’s hair was an enigmatic shade of purple. He had no name.

 

💫

 

Whether by fate’s cruel joke, the emperor and empress passed away on the same day.

Their funerals were held with grandeur.

An elegant funeral march played as the imperial crown prince paid his respects on behalf of all.

Dressed in solemn black mourning attire, Dominique remained surprisingly composed, offering no particular words.

 

In the empire, the simultaneous deaths of the emperor and empress signified far more than mere loss.

Many coveted the now ownerless palace, and this was not a matter confined to the empire alone.

Thus, the Tristan Empire needed to swiftly appoint a new leader to reaffirm its stability.

Even during the funeral, nobles and elders argued daily over who should ascend as the next emperor.

 

Naturally, some insisted the crown prince, Altheon, should inherit the throne, while others argued that since the emperor left no will, Dominique should also be given a chance.

 

Yet their debates came to a futile end for one simple reason—Dominique had disappeared.

 

On the final day of the funeral…

 

Dominique visited Altheon’s office alone, avoiding the eyes of others.

Though they had never been close, after Empress Christine’s death, he had completely stopped coming here.

 

Eden, spotting him, immediately blocked Dominique’s path.

“I’m not carrying any weapons. Even if I were, do you really think I could defeat the Crown Prince alone?”

Tilting his head with a sneer, Dominique forced Eden to announce his arrival.

 

Altheon, as if expecting him, called Dominique inside.

After dismissing everyone, Altheon spoke first, “You have two choices.”

“How generous of you.”

“One—become the consort of Princess Gerhen.”

The princess of the eastern kingdom of Gerhen was no ordinary princess. She was an older woman who had been a countess, then a marchioness, then a baroness before returning to her royal title.

“Even if you’re trying to get rid of a nuisance, isn’t forty a bit much?”

“The other—commit suicide right here, right now.”

Altheon drew the sword at his waist and offered it, still sheathed.

 

Dominique let out a hollow laugh.

“Dare I decline both proposals and offer my own?”

He mimicked the tone of an overly formal vassal.

“I’ll disappear, leaving everything behind. Wealth, lands, honor, even my name.”

“…”

“Just one thing—let me take my mother’s brooch.”

“Brooch?”

“An old amethyst brooch. It was her most treasured possession.”

Given the era and the gemstone, it was obvious who had given it to her. Dominique added one last thing.

“I’ll never dream of rebellion. I’ll wander far away in another land. If you’re uneasy, we can even make a blood vow.”

 

A blood vow—an unbreakable oath, witnessed and sealed by the temple.

As long as both parties agreed, its terms and scope were limitless.

 

Altheon studied Dominique, dressed head to toe in black, unlike his usual flamboyant attire. Both had lost their mother and father—today, they stood on equal ground.

Though the irony that they shared the same father was not lost on them.

 

Young Altheon had raged and blamed himself for his mother’s sudden death.

And that rage had led him here.

 

Dominique’s eyes were red, but there was no anger in them.