The Villainess Proposed a Contractual Marriage

Chapter 69: What It Means to Seep In



On a bright afternoon, near the massive pond inside the temple, Ibria called out to Harte.

"Harte. Your face has brightened up lately?"

"What do you mean all of a sudden?"

Harte asked, bewildered. But Ibria's pale face remained indifferent.

"Do you enjoy serving that person so much you can't even sleep? At first I thought she might have some dirt on you, but seeing your face, it doesn't seem like that's the case."

"Hey, dirt on me...! It's absolutely not like that, Ibria."

Harte shook his head vigorously. He was so flustered he looked like a fish flapping on a fishing line.

'I can't tell... Not to Ibria... Not to anyone in the temple... I can't say it even if my mouth is torn apart...!'

He was a senior member of the temple after all, a clergyman who valued frugality and purity. Harte lacked the mental strength to confess that he was frequenting the Duchess's mansion because he had groped an unmarried woman's thigh.

"Anyway, is that what you were curious about...? Whether she had dirt on me or something?"

"Well, I'm curious about that too, but I wanted to warn you."

"Warn me?"

"Yes, warn you."

Ibria's expression darkened. She faced Harte seriously and offered sincere advice.

"You might not know this, but Duchess Luminel actually has a bad reputation. She's known as a villainess."

"What..."

"Even so, I didn't think you of all people would, but just in case, I'll tell you. When you keep something dark close, you get stained without realizing it. I hope you'll be a little wary of Duchess Luminel."

Ibria was sincere because it was Harte she was advising. She didn't want to see Harte, who had been like an elegant white heron, soaked in ink. However, Harte's thoughts were completely opposite to Ibria's.

"Thanks, Ibria. But I want to believe what I've seen with my own eyes."

"Harte."

"The Duchess I know is just blunt, nothing more. So even if her reputation is bad, I want to trust her as much as I can. After all, it's our job to believe, isn't it?"

"If you use work as an excuse, how can I argue... Being the Holy Maiden and all."

Ibria let out a long sigh.

Harte's opinion was the orthodox one. To refute it, whether as a Holy Maiden or as an individual, would invite criticism.

The temple's daily routine was drawing to a close.

---

---

About half an hour before Harte's arrival, at the Luminel mansion.

Elphisia was in a foul mood. She was disgusted by Askalion, who was criticizing her inhuman behavior and waging a public opinion war, and the Empress who seemed to be jumping on the bandwagon with glee.

She had long since cut off the supply lines delivering aid supplies. Thanks to this, the Third Prince, whose hands were tied, had no choice but to continue the fight in this manner.

"... Duchess, what will you do?"

Glen, who was attending her, asked quietly. In response, Elphisia asked, with eyes that seemed to be looking down at a chessboard:

"Do you know the easiest way to defeat an opponent?"

"I... don't know."

Glen gave an insubstantial answer after a moment's thought. On the other hand, Elphisia explained her theory without so much as raising an eyebrow.

"You just need to repeat the actions they despise. Actions that inspire such intense hatred..."

Originally, the right path was difficult and the wrong path was easy. And Elphisia was a woman who walked right down the center of the wrong path. For someone like her, perfect from her background to her own qualifications, there was absolutely no need to take the difficult path.

Therefore, choosing the wrong path was the natural course of action.

"We should spread well-crafted gossip to the yellow press. Let's bundle Askalion and the Empress, who joined hands thinking this was their chance, into one side altogether."

"... I'll carry out your orders."

It was just as Glen was about to take a step to carry out the order. The clock inside the mansion chimed six in the afternoon.

At the same time, a foolish servant reflexively came to Elphisia's mind. That servant was, of course, Harte, who by now should have finished his duties at the temple and would be coming to fulfill their unfair contract.

"... Hah."

"Duchess?"

It was an unexpected sigh. Glen stopped in his tracks, concerned. And his judgment was excellent.

"... Forget the order I just gave."

"Pardon? Yes... understood."

"And... instruct them to lift the restrictions we placed on the merchant guilds."

"You mean..."

"..."

Glen tried to reconfirm her meaningful decision. But Elphisia's lips didn't open a second time.

It seemed suspicious, as if he had heard things, but reality was undeniable. Therefore, Glen bowed respectfully and withdrew to draft the official document to be circulated to the merchant guilds.

With this, Askalion's wish was fulfilled. The supply of aid to the slums would resume once again.

The usual Elphisia wouldn't have yielded even if her feet were on fire.

She knew this well herself, which is why she squeezed her eyes shut.

"Phew..."

It was an impulsive decision with no room for excuse. But that's not to say it contained intentions that even she couldn't understand.

It was all because of Harte.

Remembering that grown child who knew nothing of the world's filth made everything seem pointless.

She didn't want to needlessly stain that innocent man. Moreover, when she saw him showing her infinite goodwill, she somehow felt bad for being mired in the wrong path.

"Damn it!"

Bang!

Elphisia shouted and kicked the innocent wall. Why was she thinking of him on her own, why was she ashamed of her own actions on her own...

It's not like her ability to distinguish between good and evil had been dim. She knew all too well that she was closer to evil...

That's why it was even more maddening.

Meanwhile, Harte, who had just opened the front door of the mansion, witnessed Elphisia's outraged appearance in real-time.

"Duchess!"

Thump!

Harte bounded up the stairs in one breath. He immediately knelt on one knee and examined Elphisia's foot.

"Did you hurt your toes? Why are you hurting yourself because you're angry..."

"Ha."

Elphisia wanted to snap at him that it was because of him. But the words wouldn't come out smoothly. She had a feeling that if she vocally declared Harte as the cause, something irreversible would happen.

"Move."

"Yes, ma'am."

Harte was faithful to her instructions. It was completely different from before when he would hesitate and get iron-fisted with her folding fan.

Soon, he casually threw out a question.

"So what's wrong?"

"Nothing."

"Come on, it doesn't seem like nothing."

"You're persistent."

"Hmm."

Now Harte was stroking his chin, pretending to ponder with an outright sly attitude. Elphisia's face contorted on one side at this rather drastic change.

"You seem to have gotten quite comfortable with me."

"I guess it's because you always treat me so well, Duchess."

Elphisia had never treated Harte well. If anything, she had driven him like a whipping boy.

"You... really..."

Suddenly, she had such a thought.

That if he left the temple's embrace in this state, he might have his liver and gallbladder eaten while his eyes were wide open.

Unlike Harte with his innocent brain, the world was far too cruel. So it felt like someone needed to protect Harte.

'How did it come to this?'

What if the woman pushed against the railing at the imperial ball had been someone other than her? Probably, no matter who he had come into contact with, he would have wagged his tail like a stray dog and sought them out. And just like now, he would have signed such an unreasonable slave contract without hesitation and... acted as they wished.

'His face is... quite handsome.'

As a holy knight, he had a good physique that would likely be popular with women. An immature young lady might have used the event as an excuse to drag Harte into a swamp of lust.

Even without a specific target, for some reason, her fists clenched just at the imagination.

'Is this... a sense of responsibility?'

A sense of responsibility arising from the reality of having learned Harte's true nature. Also, a sense of mission that since she had drawn him into an unfair contract, she should make this person into a proper human being.

It must be one or the other. At least, Elphisia was convinced of that.

"... You."

"Yes?"

"Do you do this to other people too? If someone is venting their anger by hitting a wall, do you rush over like you did just now?"

"Of course... Why wouldn't I? It's painful if injuries increase."

Hearing the answer, her mood seemed to sink. Elphisia gave a bitter smile.

"... I should have known."

But her bitter smile didn't last even a second.

"But Duchess, please don't try to break things. If you call for me, I'll just come running. Then I'll help you vent your anger."

"Even if your temple duties aren't over?"

"Ah..."

"..."

Normally at times like this, one should lie to please the other person, even if it means stretching the truth. That's what having sense means, but strangely, she didn't feel offended.

It was just so very Harte that he couldn't gloss over even one thing with a lie.

'Am I... finding this comfortable?'

She had lived her whole life suspecting others. When she stepped into social circles, her eyes would form crescents, but her lips behind the folding fan would remain horizontal.

Because deception was her daily life, she couldn't trust anyone.

In the midst of all this, the appearance of someone she could trust unconditionally was an encouraging change.

"... I'll come running as fast as I can. Actually, I find it quite fun to talk with you, Duchess."

"That's enough."

Elphisia turned around and tossed out a few more words.

"Do as you please."

---

---

Time passed after the two names were written on the contract. On a day when the spring air had faded and the early summer sun grew stronger, an invitation arrived at the temple.

It was an invitation to a banquet celebrating the Emperor's birthday.

"I must attend..."

Ibria made her decision.

"I'll make sure to see this person called Elphisia Luminel... with my own eyes."

Her protruding lips betrayed her state of mind.

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