Secret Love Affair between a Former Saint and a Dark Hero - Chapter 113 - The Resident Madman

Iora repeated the words she had once said before.

“Thank you for all you’ve taught me, sir.”

They were the same words, but this time she said them with a bright smile.

“From now on, it won’t be every day, but I’ll see you again.”

“…Very well. Then, shall we begin today’s lesson?”

“Yes, sir!”

* * *

Still, this harassment never seems to change.

Iora let out a sigh over what had happened while she let her guard down for just a moment.

The timing was different, but it was the same kind of thing as before.

‘Still, it’s better than before the regression.’

Back then, hadn’t a bucket of filthy water suddenly been dumped on her head, leaving her soaking wet? And to make matters worse, the Crown Prince had witnessed the entire scene from right behind her. Compared to that, this time—

“What do you think you’re doing?”

…was no better. Iora flinched and glanced back at the voice in surprise, as did the two maids who had blatantly flung the dirty mop water at her feet.

“Y-Your Highness the Crown Prince?”

“M-My Lord!”

The maids panicked and quickly bowed their heads. Their thoughts were always simple. As always.

There was a strange thrill in watching the daughter of a marquis silently endure their bullying without a word. Even more so because they could justify it as something done for the sake of the kind Saint Arcanda. Naturally, things had escalated.

At first, they had been cautious not to get caught. But now? They had grown so bold as to splash mop water at her feet while looking her straight in the eye.

That was the atmosphere of the Saint’s mansion. That girl is someone we’re allowed to torment.

“How dare you behave this way? Do you even know who she is? Are you trying to die?”

The Crown Prince’s voice rang out, thunderous and sharp.

“P-Please forgive us!”

“We’re sorry! Truly sorry!”

When she witnessed Ovid shouting in fury, it felt like a blinding flash went off before her eyes. Right, what had we been doing all this time? That kind of realization struck.

Their hearts pounded in panic, and the maids trembled as if death were imminent.

Why had they forgotten? The girl before them was also a high-ranking noble who could dismiss them with the flick of a finger. And why, why had they hated her so viciously to begin with?

“Iora, has this been happening all the time?”

“Your Highness, well, not always.”

“You mean this wasn’t just a one-time thing?”

The shocked expression on his face was almost pitiful. Iora looked at him with slight distaste, unimpressed by his attempt at playing the righteous male lead. She was just about to coolly toss out something like, ‘There’s no need for you, so you can leave now’, when she spotted a small head peeking out from behind a pillar.

‘That’s… Jane, isn’t it?’

Creeping closer as if trying to hear better — it was unmistakably Jane. She was clearly snooping around to tattle on Iora to Arcanda about whatever was going on here. That same self-righteous maid who still strutted around like she owned the place, always glaring as she passed.

Iora suddenly felt a wicked surge of mischief toward both the maids trembling in front of the Crown Prince and Jane, the one hiding behind the pillar. She hadn’t even done anything, yet they whispered behind her back every day, calling her a villainess.

“Your Highness, are you feeling sorry for me?”

“My lady?”

“Then please excuse me for just a moment.”

And so, she acted. To make sure Arcanda would tremble in rage when she heard the news. To make the maids, who suddenly changed their tune the moment rank and power came into play, regret it. Since she planned to visit the Saint’’s mansion less often now, she figured she might as well go completely mad this one last time and uproot things to the core.

She dove straight into the Crown Prince’s broad chest — firm, comforting, and wonderfully warm.

“M-My lady?”

She did feel a little sorry for him.

“What… are you doing…?”

“Shh. I’m pretending to be delicate.”

Of course, the rumors would start again. That the villainess had seduced the Crown Prince, causing the innocent Saint Arcanda to spend another night weeping in sorrow. That the villainess was so depraved she would stoop to using her body to beguile him. So many wretched rumors like those — exactly the kind Janus would have spread before Iora’s regression — were swirling once again.

Iora felt deeply satisfied as she watched Jane tremble and bolt from the scene. Did that maid live so vicariously through Arcanda that she thought they were one and the same?

Once Jane was gone, Iora turned and walked toward the other maids, who were now pale as ghosts, and bowed her head slightly.

“Now then, what should I do with you two? How shall I torment you so the rumors say I did a good job of it?”

The maids gasped, practically choking, as their eyes locked with hers.

How could people remain so utterly unchanged? Now that she looked closely, these were the very same maids who’d dumped dirty water on her in this exact spot before her regression. Iora grinned, slow and crooked.

“Do you hate me that much?”

“W-We… we were wrong…”

“Please… please forgive us…!”

As the Crown Prince stepped closer, concern etched across his face, Iora gave a small shake of her head to stop him. Then, curling her lips into the most wicked smile she could manage, she whispered sweetly — just as Vigros always used to do.

“Sometimes people spread rumors about me, like that I stomp on others beneath my noble heel. They ask if I don’t feel guilty, using my status to crush others. And if you were the ones spreading such talk now, I’d like to answer you like this.”

She lazily ran her fingers through the maids’ hair. Then she suddenly gripped it tight — both sides, pulled harshly until it hurt. The maids screamed, “Aagh!”

But really, screaming over something this minor? That wouldn’t do. They needed to endure more. Otherwise, it just wasn’t any fun.

Iora leaned in close and whispered, just loud enough for them to hear.

“I do.”

“L-Lady Iora…”

“I do whatever I must to take revenge on those who try to trample on me. If I have to prick my conscience a few times, so be it. I’m ready to use everything I can. Oh, and why didn’t I fight back before?”

Because that wasn’t really me.

But from now on, Iora would be fully, truly herself.

“You said it first, didn’t you? That I’m a wicked woman. And wicked women… well, they’re fickle by nature.”

“Hhng… h-heuh…!”

“So if you’d like to see something even worse, go ahead and dump your filthy water on me. Next time, you’ll be drinking every last drop of it with your mouths.”