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Chapter 20:
“A Märchen for the Villainess”
Unfortunately, the clock that Hook had infused into the princess could not be restored.
The princess, who had fought desperately until the very end, eventually collapsed, unable to bear the power within her.
“A bath… will be necessary, I suppose.”
The duke looked down at Isabelle, whom he was holding in his arms.
What a remarkably resilient woman she was. Her unusually fair skin glistened with cold sweat, soaked through and trembling.
Seeing her like that, the Hook clock that had been stolen from him didn’t seem so regrettable anymore.
“You may not notice because you’re rarely sick, my lord, but delicate humans catch coughs when their cold sweat dries in the chilly air, cough.”
Snow’s grumbling during the training voyage came to mind.
“Prepare a coat.”
The duke commanded dryly, still staring at Isabelle.
The attendant standing nearby quickly brought a large coat.
Wrapping Isabelle in it, the duke left the mansion.
They walked along the garden lined with wisteria in full bloom, heading toward the tower where the princess stayed.
The scent of flowers grew stronger with each step, until the duke and Isabelle were enveloped in a deep, lingering fragrance.
“How strange.”
He had never been moved by the smell of flowers before, yet now it was so sweet.
Tiny purple blossoms, hundreds gathered, could produce such a scent…
“And yet this little princess produces it all on her own.”
Isabelle wasn’t particularly short by general standards, but to the duke, she seemed endlessly small and delicate.
“Have we always been this close?”
He tilted his head slightly as he looked up at the tower, arriving sooner than he expected.
He ascended each step to Isabelle’s room, refusing to use a portal.
Inside Isabelle’s room, everything was in disarray.
Badel, preparing the dining table, was startled when he saw her.
“P-Princess!”
“She’s simply fainted from exhaustion. She should awaken soon.”
The duke gestured toward the princess’s bed.
The bed was messy, the blanket crumpled, and a novel lay sprawled across it.
“The princess dislikes anyone touching her bed…”
While Badel made excuses, the maids quickly and subtly straightened the bed.
The duke laid Isabelle on the neat bed and covered her with the blanket.
In sleep, she looked less like the infamous villainess and more like a demure little angel.
It was then that a pungent smell reached him.
Her bedroom, which should have smelled of flowers, was filled with the stench of grilled eel.
“Why prepare a meal in the bedroom?”
The duke crossed his arms, staring at the grilled eel set before her.
“The princess usually dines in her room. She… while reading,” Badel mumbled quietly.
Quick-witted maid Laura threw her body to cover the stack of adult romance novels piled neatly on the floor with her skirt.
“Would anyone be able to eat while looking at that?”
Glancing at the stack without much thought, the duke slowly nodded.
As he turned to leave, something seemed to strike him.
Badel quickly bowed. Her eyes caught the duke’s polished black shoes.
“Take good care of your mistress, Badel.”
Each word fell like a heavy stone on the crown of her head.
‘Is this what being threatened feels like?’
A chilling sensation as if her throat were being strangled. Pale as death, Badel couldn’t speak.
‘How did the princess manage to hold her head high against a man like this?’
Badel felt her already lowered head sink further and squeezed her eyes shut.
“Answer.”
“I-I will remember, my lord.”
“I reminded you the same last time. Do you recall?”
The duke, looking down at the grey-streaked head, slipped his hands into his pockets.
“Then you gave the same answer. But this time your actions must change… if you want to protect my son.”
“!”
Startled, Badel jerked her head up. The piercing gaze of the duke made her feel she couldn’t breathe.
‘He knew. He knew I pulled the princess’s hair.’
How…? Could the princess have told him? No, that’s impossible.
As the princess’s nanny, she knew the princess better than anyone.
‘Even if the princess was suffering inside, she would never show it outwardly.’
The duke’s eyes must have been everywhere.
“I… I will… never… again…”
Fear choked her. It felt as though her neck might be cut at any moment.
The duke glanced at the trembling Badel and then at Isabelle.
“Be careful. I no longer intend to overlook foolish acts.”
He glared at Badel one last time before leaving the room.
Badel collapsed where she stood.
“Grilled eel?!”
Isabelle, awakened from sleep, picked up a fork with a happy face.
“It’s a special meal. They say it’s good for restoring energy.”
The maid attending her now, instead of Badel, was Laura—the same one who had shielded her novels earlier.
Whenever Isabelle received useless trinkets, she would give them to the most reliable maid among those in need.
That was Laura. As the head of her family, she no longer needed to worry about her siblings’ meals.
The princess was truly a grateful mistress to her.
“Where’s Badel?”
“She… took leave because she wasn’t feeling well.”
Isabelle’s fork froze mid-air. Badel on leave? She had hardly ever taken a day off.
“Is she very ill?”
Though she didn’t want to worry, she couldn’t prevent her heart from sinking cold.
‘Why do I even care? I’m such a pushover.’
“No, she said she would rest briefly because her face went pale after meeting the duke.”
“……”
Was this an unusual misstep? Badel had always been careful, even when the princess pulled her hair.
Isabelle removed a simple ring from her finger and handed it to Laura.
“Badel has no one to care for her if she falls ill. Go visit her and cook for her.”
Don’t mention that I sent you.
With a small reminder, Isabelle stared out the window.
“Understood, Princess. I’ll take good care of her!”
Laura smiled and put the ring in her apron pocket.
“Also, Princess! You should check the outfit for the banquet. Madam Fairy’s dress has arrived.”
She shouldn’t have brushed off that remark.
She should have asked what kind of banquet it was or who would attend.
Exhausted from the day’s events, Isabelle simply tried on the dress and sent Laura away.
The next morning:
“Princess, wake up. You must start preparing early today.”
Badel, back in attendance, had a serious expression that was hardly noticeable.
She pulled open the curtains and woke Isabelle.
Isabelle lazily got up from under the blankets.
The red novel she had been reading the previous night fell onto the bed.
“Preparations already?”
She needed to mark where she had left off. Isabelle took a silver-crafted bookmark from the bedside table and inserted it.
“The prince will arrive at the estate today.”
“What? That wretched man is coming today?”
She sprang up from the bed.
Prince Edwin. The mere thought made her blood boil.
“P-Princess.”
Badel followed frantically, advising her not to speak carelessly about the prince.
The tension of the morning vanished, and Badel returned to her usual self.
Isabelle smirked and recalled:
‘Prince Edwin will soon visit the estate.’
Wasn’t that the day the duke proposed breaking off the engagement? He had certainly said that.
“That wretched man is really coming.”
Ignoring Badel’s advice, Isabelle swore under her breath.
As she threw the book she was holding and searched for clothes…
‘Huh?’
The book she had thrown didn’t make a sound when hitting the floor.
‘Even in the morning, ghosts appear?’
A shiver ran down her spine as she slowly turned.
By the wide-open door stood the duke and Snow.
Snow remained outside the doorway, but the duke had entered the room.
He had caught the book Isabelle threw with one knee bent.
“Oh my.”
Snow broke the silence, covering his eyes with his hand, looking horrified.
It was unbelievable. Their master, always so proper, had caught a book thrown by a woman…
And it was that same red novel.
‘Why did I catch the book the princess threw?’
The duke concealed his embarrassment and straightened.
“Cursed Beast and the Rainy Night.”
He read the messy title aloud in a deep, resonant voice.
Frowning, he tossed the book to the floor.
“You’ve had many disappointments, Princess.”
His impassive face made it unclear whether he was joking.
Isabelle panicked and tried to explain.
“I, I just thought it might help.”
Yes. She only borrowed it because it resembled a story, in case the duke was like the Beast from Beauty and the Beast.
“Help?”
He tilted his head slightly.
“It may sound strange, but sometimes stories come true like prophecies.”
Snow White’s child eating apples for beauty, or the duke cursed to become a beast.
Even she, the self-proclaimed beauty living in the tower, was part of such tales.
‘But would they even know those fairy tales?’
She felt helpless and couldn’t explain the sensation.
What had she just said?
“A prophecy, huh.”
The duke’s gaze returned to Cursed Beast and the Rainy Night.
“So what prophecy was in that book?”
His violet eyes stared straight at her.
Though expressionless at first glance, his eyes twinkled with mischief.
Snow poked the duke’s side.
“My lord, maybe just keep your mouth shut.”
“Why?”
“If the princess’s face turns redder, the makeup won’t set right.”
After whispering to the duke, Snow winked at Isabelle.
I heard that, you little rascal, Isabelle thought, closing her eyes gloomily.
