How to Live as the Terminally Ill Younger Sister of the Villain - Chapter 105

(Lurelia’s Belated Bonus – Update 3/14 🎉)

“Ahem, ahem~”

Though he stared at her intently, she deliberately turned her gaze elsewhere and hummed a tune with mismatched notes.

She looked like a child desperately trying to avoid responsibility while standing in front of a flower pot she had broken.

“Anyway, I understand.”

-What should we do?

“First, keep watch around the area in case they try to find a way to continue the deal.”

-Yes, understood.

The communication crystal disconnected, and silence fell in the dark room.

Blake stared at Angelina intensely, and Angelina deliberately avoided his gaze.

But unable to bear the loud silence, Angelina finally let out a deep sigh.

“I didn’t know it would turn out like this. It wasn’t planned.”

Blake crossed his arms as he looked at Angelina, who was expressing her grievance. As if he was ready to listen and wanted her to continue.

“I had some items I wanted to buy. I thought I could find them at the black market, so I went there, but as luck would have it, one of the security guards was that bald Holy Knight who was the gatekeeper when I went to the Grand Temple last time, you know?”

Angelina let out an exclamation of as if she herself couldn’t believe it.

“How could such a coincidence happen? Out of all the Holy Knights, how is it possible that precisely that bald one entered the very stall where I was?”

Angelina pulled at her blonde hair as she poured out more of her frustration.

“I even dyed my hair like this to avoid standing out, but of all people, they recognized Laura who wasn’t even disguised!”

“So the blonde hair was for the black market.”

In fact, Blake hadn’t recognized Angelina when she first entered the shantytown.

Her outfit was so different from usual, and even her hair was a different color, so it couldn’t be helped.

At first, he thought she might be a trap set by enemies to interfere with him, due to her aura that didn’t match the place and a strangely familiar feeling.

That’s why he observed instead of responding immediately.

However, the moment she raised her head in response to Mason’s shadow and faced the moonlight directly, he couldn’t help but recognize her.

No matter how different her hair was from usual—now a daffodil yellow—he couldn’t fail to recognize those crimson eyes.

For some time now, those were the eyes that came to mind whenever he saw red jewels, burning candles, or even the red sealing wax on letters.

“Yes, as we were escaping, we triggered some traps, and as things kept exploding, Pudding eventually had to reveal himself…”

Angelina glanced at Pudding drooping on her shoulder. Though no longer invisible, he was still small and black, making him hard to see in this dark place.

“Anyway, maybe because of my blonde hair, people had strange misunderstandings. Before I knew it, I had become the Saint and Pudding had become a divine beast.”

“Since Catherine is blonde, that could happen.”

“So Haley used that to create a path for me to escape. She told me to get away from the black market and she would find me, so I was just walking aimlessly when I ran into Your Grace.”

Though she tried to explain, Blake still couldn’t fully understand what had happened at the black market.

How could something that started with Laura being caught by the guards escalate to the point where the entire black market was devastated?

But knowing that Angelina was in the middle of it all, somehow it made sense. It all seemed plausible.

After all, she always caused incidents that defied common sense.

“There’s always commotion around Miss Flaubert.”

If bringing incidents wherever she went was a talent, then it was certainly her talent.

“That’s unfair. My goal is to live quietly while enjoying some luxuries.”

“….”

At this absurd statement, Blake looked at her with a dumbfounded expression.

A person who wants to live quietly declares war on the Order…? It was a future aspiration that couldn’t be more unsuited to her.

But she pouted her lips and genuinely felt wronged. Finding it cute, Blake let out a chuckle.

“This time I really am wronged. It’s true that I was planning an event to boost the Saint’s presence, but definitely not like this, and me doing it was absolutely not part of the plan.”

“Yes.”

“I’m telling the truth!”

“Yes, I believe you.”

“Your face doesn’t look like you believe me.”

“Doesn’t it? What does a believing face look like?”

“Serious… Look, the corners of your mouth are turning up now.”

To Blake’s eyes, the more Angelina felt wronged, the cuter she looked, and he couldn’t help but smile.

When he smiled again, she made an even more sulky expression.

Unable to leave her alone, Blake reached out and twirled the ends of her yellow hair with his finger.

“We agreed to be on the same boat, yet you didn’t tell me about such a big plan. I could have felt left out.”

“If it were truly a planned event, I wouldn’t have excluded Your Grace.”

“Is that so?”

“Of course. How could I, when Your Grace is such an important figure in this project?”

Angelina meant it in the sense that he was the male lead, and everything would go more smoothly with his involvement.

However, to someone who didn’t know the inside story, it couldn’t help but sound quite pleasing.

“Am I a necessary person to Miss Flaubert?”

“Why are you asking such an obvious question?”

With you, we can save my brother, punish the Order, and make the female lead happy.

Angelina barely swallowed her next words and gave Blake, who kept doubting her, a displeased look.

“How necessary am I?”

Not understanding her feelings, he kept asking strange questions.

“When you ask ‘how much’…”

What, should I answer as much as the sky and earth? As much as the fate of this empire? As much as the ending of the story?

When the male lead of a romance fantasy himself asks about the importance of the male lead in the story, how on earth should one answer that?

Watching Angelina unable to readily provide an answer, Blake slowly raised his hand and cupped her face.

The hair he had been playing with came up in handfuls, tickling his palm.

When he touched her, a tingling sensation that started from the small of her back traveled up her spine to her head.

“When you said earlier that you were returning from the black market, I thought my heart would stop.”

His chest was so full of all kinds of emotions that it was stifling, so he picked out a few words from what was inside and expressed them.

“I was afraid you might have gotten caught up in that deal…”

What would I do then? It felt like his breath was completely cut off.

But afterward, when he realized she wasn’t involved in what he had been thinking about, the anxiety that had risen to his throat disappeared without a trace.

It was amusing.

His heart jumped at her expressions, and all his muscles tensed and relaxed repeatedly over her well-being.

Since when had he become a person who was so affected by such trivial matters?

Though he had realized his feelings long ago, he still couldn’t fully accept them.

He didn’t want to acknowledge it. The moment he did, he feared his feelings would grow instantly like a snowball rolling down a hill, becoming too overwhelming to handle.

Such snowballs either grow large and solid enough to push everything away, or shatter into pieces in an instant.

Having already lost something precious before, he was afraid of creating something precious again. He was scared of being hurt again.

The fact that her hair was blonde right now stimulated traces of that child who came to mind whenever he started to forget, amplifying that fear.

But…

“You have given me so much.”

Emotions, treacherously, were not simple enough to be stopped by mere resolve not to begin.

She had already become an irreplaceable person in his life.

“So just now, when you said you needed me… it reassures me.”

Being needed meant that he, too, had something he could give to her.

The feeling of love was quite amusing.

There was a contradiction in wanting to give endlessly without expecting anything in return, yet eventually hoping for a small reward, and feeling upset when thinking one hasn’t given enough despite only receiving.

But with her, he had only received, received, and received more, so Blake was going crazy with anxiety.

The psychology of wanting her to need him endlessly, just as he couldn’t do without her.

That earnest and childish emotion spread from his heart through his blood vessels to every corner of his body, making him tingle.

“You can need me more. No, I hope you will.”

So I can repay even a little of what I’ve received from you.

“I hope you would call for me for any trivial matter.”

So I can spend more time by your side.

“Especially for dangerous situations like today.”

Blake felt frustrated and depressed that she had caused such a big incident today, yet he hadn’t been by her side to protect her, hadn’t even known about it.

Was it because the moon’s power was full tonight?

“Will you promise me that?”

In the end, the emotions he had tried to suppress and hide were drawn out, becoming disheveled without knowing shame.