Failed To Abandon the Villain - Chapter 7

“Master, what are you looking for so intently?”

“Oh… I wanted to get into my workshop. But I have no idea where Father put the key.”

“Your workshop?”

“Yes.”

When Valetta kept using alchemy for what he deemed frivolous purposes, Count Delight had her workshop moved to the basement and locked it up.

Without his explicit command or permission, she couldn’t access it. She would spend hours confined there to hone her craft, but nothing was allowed to be brought out. It had even reached the point where the maids inspected her belongings, including her undergarments.

“And what is it this time? A passing rabbit? A bird that fell from the sky? Or perhaps… have you found an ant with a broken leg this time?”

Reinhardt’s voice was dripping with sarcasm as Valetta pressed her lips together in silence.

She couldn’t bring herself to form attachments to people.

Instead, she had chosen to give her affection to animals—creatures that could leave her arms at any time and return just as easily.

She didn’t need to call them by name, unlike people.

Living alone without relying on anyone was a lonely affair, and even she craved a hint of warmth now and then, even if it came from a fur-covered creature.

Valetta ignored Reinhardt’s mocking words and turned away in silence. If it wasn’t anywhere else, the key was likely in his study.

She needed the key.

As she moved toward the study, Reinhardt stepped up behind her and casually reached out to wrap an arm around her waist.

“…I don’t understand why your affection always seems to flow in that direction. It’s incomprehensible.”

“You don’t need to understand,” Valetta stated firmly, causing Reinhardt’s brow to twitch. He pursed his lips, clearly displeased.

“…There’s someone in that direction,” Reinhardt said, his voice low and measured.

Valetta’s steps came to a halt. Reinhardt slowly loosened the arm he’d draped around her waist.

When she turned to face him, he was watching her with a peculiar gaze, as though observing something utterly incomprehensible. Without a word, Reinhardt turned and headed toward her workshop.

‘What does he plan to do without the key?’

She quickly realized he didn’t need one. With a single snap of his fingers, Reinhardt unlocked the door.

Valetta wasted no time entering the workshop. She didn’t bother glancing at Reinhardt as he leaned against the now-closed door. Instead, she focused entirely on stuffing herbs into medicine bottles and jotting down formulas on a sheet of paper.

“Extract.”

Reinhardt didn’t take his eyes off her for even a second. As the ancient magic circle glowed within her gaze, the room was flooded with a violet light.

The moment when simple herbs transformed into a potion was always a marvel to behold. A strange glint flickered in Reinhardt’s crimson eyes as he observed. He absently rubbed his neck, as if to soothe an inexplicable, burning thirst, then silently watched as Valetta turned away.

She tucked the potion into the inner pocket of her dress, locked the workshop door again, and swiftly made her way to the backyard.

“After rejecting my help so persistently, you now have me assisting you over something as trivial as a cat,” Reinhardt muttered with a touch of dissatisfaction.

Valetta could watch people injured or even dying with a chilling detachment, almost as if she had expected it. Yet, for some reason, she could never bear to see animals hurt. It was as though she regarded humans as livestock and livestock as people.

“Valetta, what are you doing there?”

Startled, her shoulders jolted violently. Squatting to shield the cat from view, Valetta froze in place, unable to move. Watching her cower, Count Delight’s face darkened with a fierce scowl.

“Valetta Delight!”

“…Yes, Father.”

She sighed softly and eventually stood. The cat she had just healed purred loudly and rolled around in the grass at her feet, as if recognizing its benefactor.

“Using your abilities recklessly again!”

“I’m sorry.”

She uttered the familiar phrase indifferently, her tone devoid of emotion, as she raised her head. Behind Count Delight stood a steward and a maid. When Valetta’s cold gaze flicked toward them, they hurriedly averted their eyes.

‘…Of course.’

It was clear enough. Someone had seen her by chance, chosen not to intervene, and run off to tattletale instead. Glancing to her side, she noticed Reinhardt. His lips curved in a smile, but his eyes remained devoid of amusement.

‘So today, I take another step closer to death.’

Ignorance truly was bliss.

“Sorry? Always sorry!”

Smack! Her head snapped sharply to the side. Valetta’s eyes widened slightly, but it wasn’t surprising. She had long expected this—Count Delight was always a man with a heavy hand. It was only a matter of time before this happened.

“Take her to the punishment room and lock her up! No food for a week—only water!”

Predictable. Not particularly shocking.

The steward and maid, as if they had been waiting for this order, seized her arms and began dragging her away. From the corner of her eye, she caught a glimpse of Reinhardt. His expression, usually so composed, was now frozen in shock.

‘What’s with that look on his face now?’

Reinhardt had worn an expression as if he had just witnessed something he shouldn’t have. Only when she was about to fully round the corner did Valetta realize something surprising: this was the first time she had seen a genuine emotion appear on his face since meeting him.

The week in confinement was nothing more than dull.

Perhaps because she’d endured it so many times since childhood, the sightless room or the act of groping along the floor to find water to quench her thirst didn’t affect her anymore.

Even going without food for several days had become something she was used to. At least she no longer clawed at the door, begging for her life as she had when she was younger.

‘Still, a full week is a bit rough.’

She had tried comforting herself a few times by calling it a newfangled diet method, but it didn’t help much.

The most she could do was meditate with her eyes closed or conserve energy by sleeping as much as possible.

Finally, after a week had passed, the door opened. Count Delight entered the room and stood before her.

“This is the last time,” he said softly, crouching down and gently stroking her cheek. “If you ever act out on your own again… you will no longer be treated as my child, dear.”

With those words, he turned and left.

‘What about Reinhardt?’

Usually, he would have shown up at least once, but during this week of confinement, he hadn’t made a single appearance.

“I’d hope he’s gone for good,” she murmured, shaking her head.

But for now, food came first. She requested a soup meal and headed straight to her room.

Nothing in her room had changed. Feeling fatigued, Valetta sat on the edge of her bed and happened to catch her reflection in a nearby mirror.

“Looks like a walking skeleton,” she muttered as her indifferent gaze swept over her gaunt frame before turning away from the mirror.

After eating a meal complete with dessert, she went to bed. Yet Reinhardt still didn’t show himself.

The lack of news meant one of two things: either he had died or he had left the estate.

Either way, she didn’t mind. She just hoped, in his own way, he was living well enough.

“Good evening, Master.”

…or not.

It was a fleeting wish.

Just as she was about to fall asleep, she heard a low voice outside her door. It was the same voice as always.

Sitting up reluctantly, Valetta frowned.

‘If this were the usual, he’d just barge in… What’s with him now?’

At night, there were no watchful eyes, so he usually didn’t hesitate to enter.

“How are you feeling?” he asked.

“I’m fine,” she replied curtly.

“Good. That’s all that matters. Oh, Master, did you know?”

“….”

If I say I don’t want to know, will he cut off my head?

Valetta didn’t respond, but Reinhardt didn’t seem to expect an answer anyway. He continued speaking in his usual, smooth tone.

“Those two servants who dared to wag their tongues and lay a hand on you—they’re dead.”

“…What?”

“An unfortunate accident. They fell from a window, or so I hear.”

“….”

Only you would know whether it was really an accident or not.

Valetta swallowed the words that rose to her throat.

Was he satisfied with killing just one or two people this time? It wasn’t as though advanced magic was necessary. A simple gust of wind at the right moment was all it would take to send someone plummeting from a high place.

Either way, she had once again confirmed just how dangerous he truly was.

‘…I told them not to mess with me, didn’t I?’

Despite the warnings, the servants had relentlessly harassed Reinhardt. Valetta pressed her forehead as if nursing a headache, then slowly dragged her hand down her face.

“Master, may I come in?”

“……”

Something was definitely off. Normally, he wouldn’t bother asking for permission at night. Valetta frowned slightly.

“Since when did you ever ask before coming in?”

“I want to serve you, Master.”

Something had undoubtedly happened. That statement was Reinhardt’s signal. Valetta ran a hand through her bangs a couple of times and replied lightly, “Do as you like.”

Only then did the doorknob turn. Reinhardt entered without a sound, likely because he wasn’t wearing shoes. As he closed the door behind him, Valetta lifted her gaze.

“…What happened to your body?”

Her voice broke with shock as she took in the sight before her. Reinhardt’s entire body was covered in bruises and cuts—evidence of severe, merciless violence.

His crimson eyes, usually sharp and full of life, were dulled and lifeless, the light within them extinguished.

“Master…”

Reinhardt collapsed into her arms, his body folding as he leaned heavily against her. Sitting on the edge of her bed, Valetta didn’t move as he buried himself into her and held her tightly, clinging to her like a desperate child.

He seemed to be suppressing his emotions with all his might, yet his trembling hands betrayed him.

Valetta didn’t return his embrace or console him, but neither did she push him away.

“…This isn’t your usual spot,” she muttered dryly.

Reinhardt said nothing for a long time. Still holding onto her, he slowly slid down until he knelt at her feet and rested his head on her thighs. Closing his eyes, he stayed there silently.

‘What is he doing?’

Valetta thought the whole scene was foolish, yet she made no move to stop him.

She didn’t ask why he was in this state. The reason a slave was punished was always simple. In the end, their circumstances weren’t all that different—they were both pitiable in their own ways.

Tomorrow morning, Valetta would begin her day by kneeling before Count Delight to apologize, while Reinhardt would start his day bearing the bruises on his body.

In the moonlit room, neither of them spoke. Reinhardt didn’t voice his grievances, and Valetta didn’t offer him any words of comfort.

The only thing that filled the room was silence.