A Villain's Way of Taming Heroines

Atop the bustling city walls, a young and handsome nobleman stood beside a petite and charming puppet-like lady, both gazing at the carts rolling in, forming a golden river of wheat.

"How does it feel?"

Ansel placed his hand on Ravenna's shoulder, his voice soft and gentle.

"...It's wonderful," she murmured, her eyes reflecting the vast sea of wheat.

"Why do you find it wonderful?"

Ansel's hand caressed Ravenna's cheek, reveling in the irresistible softness under his fingertips. He chuckled lightly, "Because you see potential and change, right?"

"Yes," Ravenna did not mind Ansel's hand on her face, "A perfect success, just from this small piece of land, with the yield from the soil enhancement potions, imagine the entire empire..."

The female scholar's voice rose, her tone excited and hurried: "It must... it surely can—"

She suddenly paused, lowering her head slightly, and after a moment of silence, she responded, "I apologize, Lord Ansel, I got a bit carried away."

Ansel laughed carelessly, "Your excitement is natural, not a lapse at all, but... there's something I hadn't considered."

His gaze moved to the cheering crowd, to the farmers on the carts waving their arms excitedly, his lips curving slightly:

"I thought you'd first be happy for them, for these commoners in your sight, glad that they could be spared from the troubles of hunger."

Ravenna was momentarily stunned, only then shifting her gaze from the carts full of golden wheat to the farmers, who looked like triumphant heroes.

—Even though these farmers were sitting right next to her "achievement."

"I —"

"Of course," Ansel said with a smile before Ravenna could speak, "As a creator, your first concern is naturally your creation. This doesn't mean that once your emotions have settled, you won't truly pay attention to those excited farmers and commoners, right..."

"Helen?"

His hand, still cupping Ravenna's cheek, was so warm, and even from the wrist pressed against her, she could feel a steady pulse.

"..."

Gazing upon the farmers, Ravenna remained silent.

"Helen?" Ansel repeated the name leisurely, snapping the latter out of her daze.

The bizarre cost required to obtain information about Eileen's death compelled Ravenna to utter that term once more.

"I apologize... Father," miss puppet said, lowering her gaze, "I cannot provide an answer."

"Is that so? Well, it doesn't matter. Knowing your thoughts is enough for me."

Ansel granted Ravenna immense tolerance, his meticulous demeanor as if he were truly interacting with his own daughter.

He looked towards the bountiful procession, gently caressing Ravenna's cheek, and softly said, "By next week, the scene should be even more intriguing. Are you looking forward to it, Ravenna?"

"Yes, I am looking forward to it, Father... Lord Ansel."

The unexpected shift in address left Ravenna somewhat at a loss. The genius scholar, always capable of handling everything with cold efficiency, was now encumbered by countless chains, rendering her movements sluggish and her reactions delayed.

External pressures and internal confusion... If not for the indelible beacon within her heart, Ravenna might have truly become a puppet entirely at Ansel's mercy.

"By the way," Ansel withdrew his hand from Ravenna's cheek, gently patted her shoulder, and whispered in her ear, "I have found the answer to Eileen's cause of death."

Ravenna's breath hitched, her petite silhouette seemingly frozen in place, her magnificent purple eyes like amber, reflecting the last scene her consciousness captured before detaching from reality.

"Would you like to hear it now?"

Without waiting for a private room or a secret moment, right there, amidst a crowd of onlookers on the city walls, Ansel spoke to Ravenna as if discussing an inconsequential matter.

"... Yes," Ravenna slowly responded, her voice slightly hoarse, "According to our agreement, Lord Ansel, you only need to tell me... one clue."

Despite receiving a crucial clue from Suellen, Ravenna remained composed in front of Ansel.

Even though the clue held significant meaning for her.

The murderer of Eileen was among those closest to him.

Ravenna had asked Suellen whether "closest" referred to the present or encompassed all of the past. Although Suellen avoided the question, she provided Ravenna with an answer in another manner.

She ominously told Ravenna—

[Not knowing too clearly might actually be a blessing for you.]

[It allows you the possibility to abandon your quest for the truth.]

— If indeed one of Eileen's closest companions was the murderer, then Suellen's words were accurate. For those closest to Eileen were also closest to Ravenna.

Suellen's words implied... Ravenna could never accept that person as the culprit.

But... it is not necessarily so.

In Ravenna's heart, there was another answer, one that she placed at the forefront after calming down.

If it were that person, by blood, he was indeed Grandfather's closest kin, and even though I have no ties with him now, I cannot accept that he would kill Grandfather.

Moreover...

At this moment, the Miss puppet, burdened with too much, breathes heavily and rapidly.

Moreover, he harbored hatred for Grandfather, he betrayed Grandfather, and casting aside that identity, he had so many reasons... to kill Grandfather.

The confusion felt from that "chance encounter" at the shop now sharpens into a piercing blade.

From the hatred he showed towards Grandfather then, he absolutely... absolutely could have done this.

Ravenna emphasized this in her heart, but why did she stress it so? Why did she, who once said that Leiden, no matter how shameless, would not commit patricide, still pin this crime on her own biological father?

Is it truly because she believes it to be the fact, or is it because she does not wish for the most cruel possibility to occur? Perhaps even Ravenna herself is unclear.

In this matter, all she wants now is a clue that can further reveal the truth.

And Ansel had long been prepared for this.

He gently embraced Ravenna's shoulders, speaking to the petite scholar struggling under the weight of numerous matters and pressures:

"Although I am reluctant to touch upon your painful memories, do you still remember how Eileen died?"

"...His heart was carved out." Even though her tone did not fluctuate much, the pure hatred was like silent, entwining thorns, present in every word Ravenna uttered, "His head was severed."

"Yes, a very... regrettable and cruel method."

Ansel sighed with apparent regret, but at a place unseen by Ravenna, the corners of his mouth slightly curled up.

That smile, which caused Count Watson to fear, was neither pleased by something nor seemed to be spilling malice, an incomprehensible smile.

"Who would have thought, the person who committed such cruelty..." Ansel shook his head, "was once entrusted with Eileen's fervent and great expectations?"

"..."

Entrusted… with Grandfather's… great expectations?

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