Lillian considered the villain to be like hot ice cream; Not only is it devastating, but because it is a mixture of stark contrasts.
'Sometimes you see him as a brilliant schemer, and at other times you find him recklessly impulsive.'
You think he doesn't care about anyone, then at one point you find him unbearably obsessed.
Just like now...
They were in the midst of a heated verbal argument inside the villain's room in the temple.
An altercation lasted for a full thirty minutes.
“We made a clear promise, didn't we? I won't let any harm get to you.”
“No harm has come to me, Your Highness, so this is not a breach of contract.”
“Oh? And what about that blood that fell from the pebble a while ago?”
“Your Highness, we are going around in circles now.”
The problem lies in the “work contract” that binds them as two suitors (the one in control and the one with the power).
Lillian treated this contract like an “instruction manual for equipment maintenance”; It is true that it is the “stomach” in this case, but that is okay.
Isn't the most important thing in such manuals the compensation, the amounts, and the method of operation?
But who would have imagined that a pebble flying from the Count's tail would spark such a great dispute...
“But Your Highness, look at this.”
Lillian pointed to her injured temple.
Despite the pain she felt when she was injured, she has now completely healed and the wound no longer has a trace.
“Thanks to the priest here, I don’t even feel hurt anymore.”
I have finally discovered a new feature of the temple; It is always easy to find someone who will heal you in a blink of an eye using holy power.
“The trail is gone, so there is no evidence to support your claim of breach of contract.”
Lillian's desperate insistence not to break the contract had good reason.
If the person in front of her was not the villain, what would have happened?
'I would have thought he was doing it out of fear for me.'
And if that were the case...
I would have honestly admitted that I was hurt, and that I felt afraid at the time.
I would have sincerely thanked him because he was worried about me.
But since it was a contractual relationship with the “villain”, she continued to be stubborn, claiming that she had not broken anything.
“Hoo”
Finally, the villain let out a sigh of annoyance.
He stood with his arms crossed looking out the window for a long time.
With his long silver hair carelessly tied up and his mischievous features, he looked like a sensitive and provocative beauty...
To Lillian, he only seemed like a moneylender lost in thought about his debts.
But after a few seconds -
“...I admit. I was reckless.”
“Yes?”
“I didn't know the 'tag' would be like this.”
“From which side?”
Lillian listened carefully; In Vernis, branding is an extinct tradition.
'Nobody has done it for probably hundreds of years.'
The only two things are certain: that the Dominator can only use his power to the person who has marked him.
And the one with power must devote everything to his master.
As for the detailed effects of each on the other, they were not precisely known.
The villain approached Lillian.
“…It’s funny, but just seeing one drop of blood from you makes me angry.”
His hand touched her side-swept pink hair with almost imperceptible tenderness.
“Just a simple scratch affects my ability to make decisions.”
So, he had decision-making ability to begin with.
“No matter what I was thinking up until that moment.”
“…! So what you did to that count a moment ago was because...”
Lillian remembered what happened; It's a good thing he was an evil man. If that excessive oppression had happened in the capital, the world would have been turned upside down.
And all just because a pebble scratched Lillian.
'This mark... seems more dangerous than I expected...?'
Moreover, the “vanishing capacity” is always accompanied by the drive to destroy as a chronic disease.
It was a truly disastrous combination.
The pacifist Lillian, who only wants to make the hero and villain square off fairly to prevent war, senses the gravity of the situation.
The villain sighed again: “Me too, I don’t like my feelings fluctuating like this, especially since it’s not something I chose myself.”
“Mmm, I understand.”
Lillian reluctantly agreed.
Actually…
If having his heart ripped out is a sad thing, then seeing this heart being cut right and left is definitely angering...
Yes, my heart should be the “area leader” wherever he goes, and he should not be beaten by others.
“I can't lock you in somewhere either.”
Although the topic had entered a dangerous area, Lilian skillfully changed the tack: “Then, I will be more careful in the future, and I will do my best not to get hurt.”
“…….”
“I will try hard to avoid standing in front like this time.”
The villain looked like he didn't trust her words very much.
“Miss seems to hate the financial loss resulting from breach of contract so much?”
“And is His Highness the Distinguished Prince trying to collect fines from an imperial citizen?”
“…I understand, just hold my hand now.”
“Will your power rise again?”
“Because the mark reacts to your injury and makes me lose my mind. Come on, quickly.”
“Present, present”
Lillian took his large hand with both of hers and let out a sigh.
She felt as if the ruler of the Vernis formation, or the spirit of the mountain, was asking her:
Oh Lillian, oh Lillian.
Do you want the golden brawler?
Or do you want the silver brawler?
Or is this oriental brawler yours?
'No, mountain spirit...'
None of them are mine and I don't need any of them.
But she felt as if the silver brawler had been thrown into her lap because she was mysteriously good.
* * *
This damned tag.
Efrain was still in a state of extreme discomfort.
As Lillian said, the scar completely disappeared; The terrified priest's reprimand was fruitful.
However, whenever he remembered Lillian's injury...
That anger he felt then was surging again.
He knows very well that people call him “Mad Dog.” But this was the first time he had experienced this kind of suffering.
He wanted at all costs to feel good.
Evren tightened his grip on Lilian's hand.
“Tell me about the artifacts.”
“……?”
“You feel comfortable doing that, don't you?”
Evren urged her in a low voice.
He noticed that she was very happy as she fixed the princess piece.
He wanted to calm down by feeling those feelings from her.
“Hmm, nothing comes to mind now once you ask that...”
“Start with the first thing you make”
“Ah, it was beads. The first thing I made was via crystal beadwork—”
Lillian began to recall her memories and talk.
And through the small hand he was holding, feelings began to flow to him.
His troubled heart, filled with rage, confusion, and anger, gradually began to calm down.
Instead, soft, milk-foam-like feelings flooded Evren's heart.
'This seems to be the feeling a person gets when he recalls good memories.'
He felt like he came back to life.
Even if just a little...
'I always have to make sure Lillian Taillard is in a good mood.'
Anyway, she needs a room in the palace.
‘I will host a dedicated workshop for her in that room.’
Moreover, he noticed this time that when she was busy making something, she didn't go anywhere.
That was perfect.
* * *
On the other hand, Margaret was receiving a terrifying reprimand from Elias.
“Driving the Count to the workshop? What in God’s name were you thinking?”
“Knight, this…! I, at that time, didn’t know-”
“It's not 'I didn't know', Margaret!”
The scolding did not stop.
“You were about to ruin the opportunity created by the missus to connect His Highness the Prince with Tenberen.”
If Lillian wasn't so observant and detects manipulation.
Even if she gave the necklace to the princess thinking that she had fixed it.
The Princess would have tasted the same pain that the Count was experiencing now.
And if they knew in the kingdom that something like this had happened in the lands of the empire...
“…Is it possible that you acted so recklessly because of your pride?”
“…….”
“Miss is the only ruler who has been able to curb His Highness the Prince’s rampage so far.”
“…….”
“Is it possible that you were balancing your pride with the life of His Highness the Prince?”
Margaret had nothing more to say.
She hung her head down in shame.