The Villainess Needs A Tyrant

Was she a little sadistic? That pathetic look on his face is pretty cute, too. Is the Emperor notorious for being a tyrant because of this hobby?

 

Maribelle turned her head to check her own curiosity and realized that she had been completely wrong.

 

Clang. The blade made a cold sound as it crawled out of its scabbard. Without a doubt, Ethelred looked very sullen.

 

“You can answer now. Was your place here? Or did I ask you to start Maribelle’s education from today? I know that education will start next week.”

 

Ethelred put a sword to Kir’s neck. Sadly, Maribelle could offer nothing but a tear as mourning, even if he died here.

 

But Kir waited anxiously for Maribelle to save him, as if she were an angel from heaven.

 

‘What does he expect me to do?’

 

Maribelle recalled a conversation with Kir a moment ago. The third hypothesis. Ethelred loves her. He must have great faith in that ridiculous hypothesis.

 

But what to do? He’s barking up the wrong tree. There was a deep sneer around Maribelle’s mouth.

 

‘He doesn’t know anything about the deal.’

 

His hypotheses were pretty good, but his conclusion was a complete miss. Of course, she didn’t mean to tell him about the deal. Maribelle pondered over Kir’s relationship to Ethelred and sat down at a table that still had two cups of cooled tea.

 

There were not only two cups of tea on the table but also a model of a finger. Only then did Maribelle think about the finger model.

 

‘The fourth finger? No, is it the index finger?’

 

It was a big finger. It seemed obvious that it was a man’s finger, but Kir’s hand was not so thick. He had hands that were rather close to Maribelle’s hands, long and thin fingers. A hand that seems unlikely to lift anything heavier than a pen.

 

So whose finger did he get to model the statue? Maribelle remembered the unnatural conversion.

 

‘Well, it has been a day or two that Theo hasn’t been helping.’

 

In her mind Theovalt Peregrine suddenly popped up with his finger on a cutting board.

 

‘Aha.’

 

Maribelle soon understood the circumstances. Sir Peregrine sent this to Kir. But the question still remains.

 

‘Why?’

 

A finger that suddenly appeared? It’s so funny. Hypothesizing was not something only Kir could do. Maribelle decided to weigh the reasons in her mind carefully.

 

The first hypothesis was that Kir was obsessed with fingers, so he tried to show her his favorite from his collection.

 

In the second hypothesis, Theovalt tried to convey a message to Maribelle.

 

‘Did you think I’d be frightened by this model?’

 

Theovalt Peregrine…If that was so, it would be more disappointing than she thought. She doesn’t know what it means.

 

‘I think it would be convenient to ask the person involved.’

 

Maribelle turned away and looked at Ethelred, who was still using a knife, and Kir, who looks paler and paler as time slowly ticked by. Losing blood was not just a metaphor, because Ethelred’s sword poked Kir in the shoulder.

 

“I kept you alive because I told you to work properly, not because I told you to harass people. I thought you were smart enough to get it right, but maybe I was wrong.”

 

Kir’s left shoulder was now completely red and he was coughing up blood. He’s going to die like that. Should she save him? Maribelle agonized for a moment, and opened her mouth.

 

“Your Majesty?”

 

“Tell me.”

 

“I have something to tell you.”

 

Ethelred’s head, which had been fixed toward Kir, turned. At first glance, it seemed he was annoyed but he was trying to listen to Maribelle. There is hope.

 

Her fist was naturally clenched. It’s because she’s nervous. No one could guarantee that the next head down there wouldn’t be Maribelle’s rather than Kir’s.

 

Maribelle smiled hardened to hide her tension.

 

“By the way, it’s difficult to speak if he is here.”

 

Maribelle was revealing the fact that she was struggling to smile. There is nothing to say. She’s telling him to save Kir.

 

‘What if it doesn’t work? Should I at least cry?’

 

What would work best to plead with a tyrant famous for relenting to neither blood nor tears? Is it right to broach a deal rather than appeal to his emotions? Maribelle, who was agonizing over what card to take out to save Kir, was only able to escape from her thoughts when Ethelred opened his mouth.

 

“Maribelle.”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Come here.”

 

She couldn’t find the gentlemanly way of speaking from the other day. A gentle smile? She wished. Ethelred’s tone was assertive, and he was now ordering Maribelle. Perhaps that is the maximum amount of patience he can express.

 

Maribelle approached him carefully. The tip of that knife would soon be pointing toward her, so every step she took, a snake-like tension rose up her spine and set it’s teeth around her neck.

 

Tap, tap. The walk stopped quickly. In the first place, the distance between the table where Maribelle was sitting and Ethelred was not that far. Now Ethelred and Maribelle have become so close that they can touch each other with just one more step.

 

‘This should be enough.’

 

Maribelle stood by him at a reasonable distance. But Ethelred stretched out his arms to her with a faint sneer, as if to laugh at Maribelle’s idea.

 

“When I ask you to come here, I mean come closer.”

 

His arms were wrapped around her waist. Thanks to this, Maribelle quickly leaned her cheek on his shoulder. He had a cool face and a deep bloody smile.

 

It was arrogance that in the first place that she tried to control his actions with her tongue. Ethelred wasn’t going to go crazy right away, nor did he act irrationally because stupidity blinded him.

 

She doesn’t know why, but his murderous intention was smoothly coordinated, and real.

 

‘What am I supposed to do with this?’

 

Whatever he said, Kir was already dead. Even if left alone, his life would be in danger from excessive bleeding, and he might be stabbed one more time after talking for no reason.

 

While Maribelle was mesmerized by Ethelred’s smile, something touched her hand. It was Ethelred’s hand. To elaborate a bit, the sword in his hand. A lump of iron warmed up after eating body temperature was being placed in her hand.

 

“Bell. Give your hand strength.”

 

There was no time to look away. Maribelle stopped breathing without realizing it. A voice that falls right down in the ear. Only then did the gaze fall on Kir, who breathed heavily at his feet.

 

“You should get used to it. It’s a sight to see every day.”

 

Maribelle’s hand overlapped with Ethelred’s. The sword that betrayed Maribelle once was pointed straight at Kir. Kir seemed to swear quietly in his mouth, but there was no time for Maribelle to care about him now.

 

There is no way. Maribelle took a quick turn at Kir’s purple eyes and his red wounds, his teeth biting his lower lip. The sword was already bloodied, and it was too late to shake off Ethelred.

 

Then Maribelle twisted her wrist and twisted the sword’s orbit. The straight blade is now aimed directly at her neck.

 

“If people die every day. Your Majesty.”

 

In the room, thick flesh and cold metal touching the side of the neck, the cold sweat in her hands was heavy. Tick, tick. A calm sound rang in the room where there was nothing busy except a steady clock.

 

“When will my neck fall off?”

 

Clang.

 

The sword fell silently onto the rug. The cool smile was now directed towards Meribelle. Surprised and interested, Ethelred seemed to be unaware that he had even dropped his sword.

 

He looked as if he was shocked that what he had raised as a cat was actually a predator. What the hell is he so surprised about? Maribelle said with a slight frown.

 

“Is my question wrong? Aren’t you telling me to kill myself later when you’re givnig me a sword?”

 

“What are you—”

 

“Your Majesty. If you want to scare me, please choose another method. This is neither fun nor inspired.”

 

It’s a lie. Maribelle is on her way into the grave after realizing the strength of her heart. It wasn’t that strong. But in front of Ethelred, she had to play like she had some guts.

 

“Help me save Kir. I hate the smell of blood. I don’t even want to see the body.”

 

“……”

 

“Your Majesty, please.”

 

Ethelred’s head, which was still looking at Maribelle as if it was broken, turned away. She looked at the other side of his face. Maribelle didn’t bother to rush. It is because she realised that that was implicit permission.

 

‘He listened to me.’

 

It was a small surprise. Whatever the reason, he listened to Maribelle. Her cold clammy skin began to warm with blood again.

 

Meanwhile, Kir also realized that his life had risen to the threshold of heaven and quickly fell back down to Earth. Without a doubt, he will not attach himself to heaven.

 

‘What did I just go through?’

 

Kir came to his senses in a hurry. This kind of opportunity doesn’t come twice. Kir snapped out of his shock and quickly lifted his body off the ground. The last time he looked back before leaving the room, he could only see Ethelred’s back and Maribelle, who was still expressionless.

 

‘Go ahead.’

 

Maribelle, who noticed Ethelred’s eyes, said with a glance. He cursed that she was like a devil, but when he saw her again, she was an angel.

 

Clang. The door closed with a stern sound behind Kir’s back. His left shoulder was still bleeding. He sank down with his back to the door, thankfully still intact.

 

“Hah—”

 

What did he just go through? Kir was blinking blankly, and the maid who was passing by recognized Kir, who was covered in blood, came up in surprise.

 

“S-sir Kir?? Are you okay?”

 

“I’m sorry, but I’m not okay. I almost died.”

 

“I thought Kir was already dead! Guards!”

 

“Haha…. Damn. A guard, ah, no…. Could you please call Sir Peregrine? I think I’m really going to die.”

 

The maid with freckles stuck on her cheeks looked around and whispered cautiously.

 

“I’ll call the doctor before Sir Peregrine. You’re in a terrible condition right now—.”

 

Kir sighed with annoyance and swept his face with a hand.

 

“Why is there so much nonsense? Go get him. Is it that hard to understand?”

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When Kir’s eyes flashed eerily, the maid hurriedly closed her mouth and lifted herself up. Kir’s sigh was mixed behind the maid, who was busily rushing off.

 

‘Theo, it seems like we got it wrong.’