Chapter 4

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Translator: Harry Potta

Chapter Title: Chapter 3. The Villainess Revives (2)

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Edelaine was escorted—no, transferred—to the Bertrand mansion.

With Genevieve's help, Edelaine finished preparing to step outside, her heart swelling with hope.

'Even so, once I'm out of this mansion, maybe I can escape?'

However, right before boarding the carriage, Shane whispered in a voice low enough for only her to hear.

"Genevieve is in my hands, Edelaine."

"You threaten people as easily as breathing."

"You think it's just a threat?"

"......To think you were this kind of person."

"I told you. You don't know me at all."

That, she had to admit.

Edelaine knew nothing about Shane.

'I was blind with my eyes wide open.'

She had finally made it out of that windowless bedroom, out of Shane's mansion, but it was no different from still being held captive.

It was devastating.

Arriving at the Bertrand mansion in the dead of night, Gregory spoke to her.

"Edelaine."

"Y-Yes?"

Edelaine tensed up immediately.

Gregory gazed at the startled Edelaine with an odd expression—surprised, perhaps, or pitying. She briefly met his green eyes, so like her own, then quickly looked down.

It had been ages since she'd faced her father. And in the years leading up to her departure from Delmuse, she'd barely slept, so her memories of family time were hazy at best.

'After realizing this world was from a novel, I was too busy dodging them to sever emotional ties...'

Gregory lightly patted her shoulder.

"You don't have to worry about a thing. We'll handle everything."

"I'm not worried..."

"We'll set everything back to how it was."

Back to how it was? And where exactly was that?

Gregory patted her shoulder again. He was so solemn that Edelaine couldn't voice a single question.

Patrick spoke up.

"How much do you remember?"

"Uh? Oh, that... well..."

"Do you remember how you collapsed?"

Of course she did—every excruciating detail. It was the stage she'd meticulously set her entire life. As Edelaine affirmed with silence, Patrick ground his teeth.

"Don't ever do that again."

"......"

"Absolutely."

"...Sorry."

Edelaine murmured softly.

Patrick, ever the responsible heir to the title and lands, rarely showed emotion. Yet now, the skin around his eyes and nose was flushed red, as if he might break into tears.

"Brother. Father's calling."

"...I got it."

"You must still be disoriented—rest up first, Edelaine."

Jeff gave her head a gentle pat. It was a kind touch.

Back in her old room at the family home for the first time in five years, Edelaine shut the door and slid down against it.

"Were we always this close? Definitely not."

No way! As a villainess family, they were supposed to be ice-cold and distant—like some urban chaebol dynasty...!

As far as Edelaine knew, the Bertrand family was dry.

Or more accurately, individualists. Not on bad terms, but people who prioritized their own lives above all.

Eldest brother Patrick was practically glued to the Bertrand territories, so sightings were rare. Second brother Jeff was swamped with business, communicating only by letter in the years before she left Delmuse.

The Marquis and Marchioness Bertrand were just as busy. Even without Edelaine deliberately keeping her distance, cozy family moments were few and far between.

They'd grant their youngest daughter's every whim, sure... but that didn't make them a tight-knit family.

The last few years, she'd felt like near-strangers. So when had they turned into this loving clan behind her back?

"Master has unique standards."

"...Lloyd..."

Lloyd slipped through the door. His poker face and impeccably fitted butler uniform made him look like a veteran servant of over a decade here.

"I knew it when you called that lunatic 'kind.'"

"He was kind to me then."

Lloyd snorted derisively. Fine, my judgment sucked. Edelaine steered away from the losing topic.

"When did you get here?"

"I trailed the carriage you rode in. I was waiting for an opening outside that prison of a mansion, and you emerged right on cue."

"You could've snatched me midway."

"Me, alone? Don't be ridiculous."

"I know..."

Lloyd looked unscathed. Seeing her young servant safe brought some relief.

"No injuries?"

"None. Just locked up. Good you're safe too."

"...Plenty I want to say, but I'll save it."

His lecture now might push her over the edge into tears. Lloyd eyed her pallor, took her outer coat to hang it, and started tidying the bedroom.

Edelaine buried her face between her knees, absorbing Lloyd's familiar footsteps and the comforting hum of daily life.

'What the hell is all this.'

Exhaustion weighed her down.

Not from the week-long sea voyage or the kidnapping. Pure mental fatigue.

Everything was a disaster.

'I just didn't want to die.'

She hadn't wanted to die miserably, as the world demanded. Why had one choice—to survive—unraveled it all into this mess?

Was wanting to live such a grave sin?

What more did she need to sacrifice for mere survival to be pardoned?

It hadn't been easy for Edelaine.

Abandoning, fleeing, ignoring—enduring it all to survive hadn't come without torment.

"Master. Lie down and sleep."

"......Don't wanna..."

She dreaded the nightmares.

Even through her tear-choked voice, Lloyd hauled her to the bed and dumped her on it. Ruthless little brother.

'I need to find a way.'

Genre be damned, Edelaine refused to be a plot device in any story ever again.

Even if Shane loathed her with every fiber of his being. Even if guilt over her family brought tears.

She'd resolved to survive this hateful world.

It all happened flawlessly.

Edelaine's "revival" dominated the morning headlines of every Delmuse paper the next day.

She'd merely blinked, and the world had flipped upside down.

'Money and power conquer all, damn it.'

Money and power were unstoppable.

How unstoppable? They could resurrect the dead without batting an eye.

Edelaine let out a dry chuckle. Resurrection this, revival that—please, just stop. With the genre already in chaos, tossing in resurrection felt like dumping jjajangmyeon broth on a master chef's cake.

Genevieve, ever the pro, wove in polished jargon: Edelaine Bertrand had lingered in a near-death vegetative state, and after five years of prayer, the gods had answered. Utter bullshit, spun convincingly.

'The old Genevieve had zero knack—or interest—in media games!'

When had she turned so rotten? Shane's doing, no doubt.

By dawn, morning editions blanketed Delmuse—dozens of varieties. Every paper with a sign in town had been bought off.

No internet here for live reactions.

But Duke Blancard and the Saintess? Evergreen frenzy fuel. Tongues were wagging overtime.

"What a load of crap..."

Edelaine muttered coldly, unbidden.

The headlines painted a millennium-spanning romantic.

Reality? A psycho pissed at being duped, kidnapping his ex-fiancée.

World, con artist's here! Sounded like self-intro for a sec, but Edelaine stuck to condemnation.

"That's too far. To your fiancée."

"All I see is a kidnapper, not a fiancée."

"Fair point."

Shane flashed a grin.

Morning sun lit his chiseled face to a gleam. Flawless skin, raven hair, ocean-deep blue eyes—the handsome devil was repulsive for once.

'Pretty face or not, kidnapper and blackmailer.'

Dawn hadn't fully broken when Shane showed at the Bertrand mansion. The Marquis couple and brothers? Utterly compliant with this heartthrob extortionist.

Out of solitary, into a world-prison with family as guards. One big snare.

Thus Shane-dragged, Edelaine endured fake-news rag horrors, awaiting an old "friend."

A "friend" she dreaded seeing as much as Shane.

"You're really alive, Edelaine."

The nosy control freak Crown Prince Edwin, who couldn't abide unknowns.