When the Villains Unite - Chapter 17: Promise (3)

True to my plan, I settled into Damian’s room, lounging on his bed and idly munching on some cookies as I waited.

Damian, however, was nowhere to be seen. It was already nearing eleven at night, and he still hadn’t returned. From what I could gather, he’d gone to the training grounds after dinner and hadn’t come back since.

I sighed, realizing that if he delayed much longer, I might succumb to sleep before I even got a chance to see him.

Throwing a light shawl over my shoulders, I quietly slipped out of his room and made my way toward the indoor training hall. However, when I peeked inside, there was no sign of Damian.

Has he gone outside?

It was strange—he usually preferred the indoor training hall for his late-night practice sessions. If he had gone to the outdoor training grounds, it was most likely because he was overseeing drills for the knights. But at this hour? That didn’t make much sense.

Carefully, I descended the staircase, keeping my footsteps light so as not to make a sound, and headed outside. The crisp night air nipped at my skin, prompting me to tighten my shawl around myself as I walked toward the outdoor training grounds.

Though the night had a chill, the recent warmth of spring lingered in the air, and the estate grounds looked particularly enchanting under the moonlight. Belhark’s magic had ensured that several soft lights illuminated the area, creating a cozy atmosphere.

The greenery, lush and vibrant as summer approached, swayed gently in the cool breeze, lending the night a serene charm. I made a mental note to spend more time outdoors starting tomorrow—it felt like such a waste to stay cooped up inside.

“Hmm?”

As I neared the training grounds, a sharp sound reached my ears—the unmistakable whistle of a blade cutting through the air. It wasn’t just the wind rustling the leaves.

When I approached closer, I spotted Damian beneath the moonlight, his upper body bare as he practiced his swordsmanship with tireless focus. His movements were fluid and precise, the sound of his blade splitting the air sharp and deliberate.

The moment he sensed my presence, he paused, his gaze snapping toward me with an unerring precision that sent a chill down my spine.

Damian’s piercing golden eyes locked onto mine, and the intensity of his stare made it clear that he had been aware of my approach long before I’d arrived.

Damian brushed his sweat-dampened golden hair back, the strands clinging to his forehead in a way that made him look frustratingly alluring. His upper body, glistening with sweat under the moonlight, was a stark contrast to the more intimate moments I’d seen of him in bed. Without thinking, I swallowed hard.

Even though the scars scattered across his body tugged at my heart, I couldn’t help but notice how much the Orca brothers’ influence had corrupted me—I couldn’t hide my lewd thoughts.

Before he could catch onto the direction of my gaze, I quickly blurted out a question.

“…Ahem, why haven’t you come back inside?”

“Why are you here?”

Instead of answering me, Damian shot back a question of his own, looking genuinely puzzled as to why I’d sought him out.

Does he only train late at night when I’m with Belhark?

No, that couldn’t be it. He’d only started using the outdoor training grounds recently, probably less than a week ago, since he was still recovering from his injuries.

Without saying anything, I walked up to him and pulled my shawl from my shoulders, using it to gently dab at the sweat on his face.

Damian tried to turn his head away, muttering about not needing the shawl, but my persistence quickly won out. Resigned, he closed his eyes and stood still, letting me wipe his face.

The moonlight illuminated his features, making them appear even more striking. His pale hair and fair skin seemed to glow faintly, almost dazzlingly, in the soft light.

“I waited in your room because I wanted to spend time with you today, but you didn’t come back,” I said softly.

“Of course I didn’t—I figured you’d be with my brother,” Damian replied, his tone flat but with a hint of sulkiness.

“And why would you assume that? We used to always be together, all three of us.”

“…….”

“If you can, just make up with him. It’s not a good look for brothers to hold grudges for too long.”

“I won’t.”

“Why won’t either of you listen to me?” I sighed, exasperated by his stubbornness.

Instinctively, I reached out and rested my hand on his head, intending to ruffle his hair like I’d done so many times before. But Damian, seemingly aware of my intent, ducked back reflexively, stepping away with his long strides until he was out of reach in mere moments.

My hand froze midair before I let it drop, and I tilted my head at him in mild confusion. Damian, avoiding my gaze, mumbled something about heading back to the mansion before walking toward me from a safe distance.

On the way, he snatched the shawl I’d used to wipe his sweat and replaced it with his uniform coat, draping it over my shoulders.

“Let’s go. I’ll shower quickly and come find you,” he said.

The chill of the evening air was soon replaced by the warmth of his coat, and I felt an odd sense of comfort. But Damian kept his distance as we walked back, staying one step behind me. I found myself glancing back at him, curiosity flitting through my mind.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” he asked cautiously.

“I was just wondering… who taught you to smoke?”

At my words, Damian visibly flinched, his body jerking slightly before he averted his gaze to the sky, feigning indifference.

I wasn’t angry or even judgmental, but seeing him so flustered made a playful smile creep onto my lips. For the first time in a long while, I felt the absence of the Duke and Duchess Orca—parents Damian barely got to know.

I reached out and grabbed his hand, interrupting whatever excuse he was trying to come up with.

“I’m curious. Tell me,” I urged, smiling up at him.

“It’s not something worth being curious about…”

“But I still want to know.”

Damian stood quietly, watching me. The moon behind him cast a shadow over his face, obscuring his expression.

He glanced down at my hand, stroking it a few times with his thumb before finally speaking.

“My first monster hunt. The commander taught me,” he admitted.

“What?! You were a minor back then!”

I stared at him, shocked. I had assumed he’d only picked up smoking after becoming an adult or maybe during some turmoil after our falling-out. But no—he’d started right after leaving the annex, when he was still just a boy.

Damian smiled faintly, as if he’d expected this reaction.

I couldn’t completely fault him. It wasn’t so different from how, in my previous world, people often said soldiers learned to smoke during their military service. The physical and mental toll of constant stress often drove them to seek fleeting relief, and nicotine provided a quick, if harmful, dopamine rush.

No matter how strong Damian was as a Sword Master, fighting monsters at such a young age must have been grueling for him at first.

“Why did you keep it hidden all this time?” I asked, narrowing my eyes.

“Because I thought you’d hate it,” he said simply.

I sighed, letting go of his hand and crossing my arms as I stared at him.

“Fine. And what else are you hiding?”

“There’s nothing else, I swear,” he insisted, looking slightly alarmed.

“If you don’t tell me by the time I count to three, I’m sleeping in Belhark’s room tonight.”

“Wha—! I told you, there’s nothing else to tell! And you didn’t say you’d forgive me for whatever I admitted to—”

“One… two…”

“Alright! The book under your bed! That one! I found it and… I, uh… might’ve peeked at it. That’s all, I swear!”

The book under my bed…?

I blinked, stunned. Of all things he could have hidden from me, he was confessing to secretly reading that book? A book I’d stashed away for… personal reasons?

There were so many other possibilities that would’ve made more sense—gambling, shady dealings in the underworld, anything—but this was what he’d decided to sneak a peek at?

I stared at him, dumbfounded, while Damian, looking increasingly flustered, returned my gaze with an expression of mild indignation, as if to say, I didn’t do anything that bad!

Turning sharply on my heel, I muttered, “I’m done.”

“Wait! It’s not like I wanted to read it! It was sticking out from under your bed, so I was just going to put it back—”

“Now it’s my turn,” I said, cutting him off.

I stopped walking and turned back to face him. Damian, clearly relieved that I wasn’t visibly upset anymore, stood still, waiting for me to speak. However, judging by his wary expression, he expected whatever I was about to say to be less than pleasant.

“When I was younger, I wanted to leave this house,” I began, my tone calm.

“That… I already knew,” he said nonchalantly, though his lips pressed into a tight line. He averted his gaze slightly, the flicker of guilt in his eyes betraying that he understood the role he and Belhark had played in those feelings.

“There’s more,” I continued.

“…….”

“Back when the Duke and Duchess died, I didn’t feel sad.”

“What…?” Damian’s voice faltered, his crimson lips parting slightly in disbelief. “Why would you say that all of a sudden…?”

“I’m trying to be honest. At the time, I was an outsider. I was already ostracized in this household, and while the Duke and Duchess were the only ones who showed me kindness, all I could think about back then was survival. Even though they gave me love, I couldn’t give anything back.”

“…….”

“Still… I didn’t leave the estate. Not because I didn’t want to, but because they filled the void left by my own parents. I thought it was my responsibility to repay that kindness, even if I didn’t have anywhere else to go.”

What I didn’t say, of course, was the truth that would’ve been incomprehensible to him: that I had been thrust into this world, with no one to turn to except the Duke and Duchess.

Damian silently closed the distance between us, stepping forward until only a handspan separated us. His golden eyes, tinged with an unspoken vulnerability, gazed into mine as he stood still, waiting for me to continue.

Was I being too honest?

But instead of the anger I had anticipated, Damian’s response was urgent, as if he needed to confirm something important.

“That’s really all there is to it?” he asked.

“No, of course not. If that were the only reason, I wouldn’t have stayed for as long as I did,” I replied. “At first… I was just weak to crying children. And seeing Belhark acting like he had everything under control, carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders, tugged at my heart too.”

“…….”

“Honestly, at first, it was sympathy. But as time passed, my heart slowly started to open. The day I left the annex was the day I fully trusted you and your brother. Even then, I thought I had done everything I could and that it was time to leave… but leaving turned out to be harder than I expected.”

Damian listened silently, his eyes fixed on me as I spoke.

“The void left by the Duke and Duchess wasn’t just yours to bear—it was mine too. That hesitation turned into something else, a deeper feeling. That’s when I realized I didn’t want to leave.”

“…….”

“So no, I don’t regret staying,” I finished firmly.

“I’ll make sure you never regret it in the future, either,” he said, his voice steady with determination.

“No,” I replied immediately, my tone resolute. Then, I smiled at him, the tension between us dissipating.

Damian froze in place, staring at me as though he were rooted to the ground, unsure of what to do. I took a few steps back, letting my white indoor dress billow lightly around me as I moved in slow, playful circles.

“I don’t want a prince from a fairytale,” I said, my voice soft but certain.

“…….”

“I just want you, Damian. You don’t have to try so hard to be someone you’re not.”

“…….”