Living As the Villainess Queen

She also assumed that he would be immensely charismatic based on what she had been told. She was so worried that she would freeze up when she met him.

But when they were finally introduced, she found that he wasn’t so overwhelming. The only notable thing about him was how sturdy he looked despite his age.

There is a saying that says a great person looks better than others, she thought. Is that why?

If Eugene had faced Mitchell when she first came to this world, she would’ve found him very difficult to handle. But her husband was the most charismatic person she knew, and she had gotten used to it.

They engaged in light conversation, both trying to figure each other out. It was usually Mitchell who asked and Eugene who answered. Mitchell asked many questions about the life in the kingdom, straying from sensitive topics and focusing on safer ones. Eugene was surprised to find that the conversation was actually very interesting. Eventually, Mitchell shifted the conversation to look for the reason for Eugene being here.

“It seems I have gotten excited now that I’ve finally met someone that I’ve only known through letters.” Mitchell chuckled. “Anyway, I heard that you require my assistance.”

Eugene nodded. “Would it be possible to see the letters that we exchanged?”

She expected him to question her for her reasons behind asking such a strange request, but, surprisingly, Mitchell agreed without much fuss.

“Of course. I set aside all our correspondence,” he told her. “Do you also need the ones I sent you?”

“Yes,” Eugene said. “I apologize for your troubles.”

In the castle, the impostor had left no letters from Mitchell. It appeared as if she had destroyed them all after reading them.

“I think if I match the letters I received, I’ll remember,” Mitchell said. “I’ll check and give them to you.”

“Thank you. I’m relieved thanks to you. I’ll never forget your kindness.” Eugene smiled brightly and thanked him sincerely. She was incredibly thankful that Mitchell was willing to put in the work for her.

“It’s no problem at all,” Mitchell said.

Just then, someone knocked on the door. Mitchell glanced at it then turned back to Eugene. “Excuse me,” he said, standing up.

Eugene got up with him. “I don’t want to take any more time from such a busy person. I’ll be off.”

“Pardon?” Mitchell’s eyes were wide with panic. “Oh, please stay. It’ll just be a moment.”

“You can take your time,” Eugene said. “It’s not urgent.”

“Then please just wait for a moment more.”

Eugene was confused by Mitchell’s sudden desperation, but she heeded his request anyway and sat down.

***

The atmosphere in the Muen’s mansion was quite grim. The master had caught a cold and couldn’t leave the bedroom, so the doctor’s visits were regular. All his granddaughters had moved to stay elsewhere in case they caught his illness.

However, even without this cold, it was known that the master wasn’t exactly the healthiest person. He didn’t appear like he was battling illness, but all the attendees that lived in the mansion could guess that he wasn’t well just by the way Rahan looked.

The attendees behaved more carefully as the atmosphere became heavy. Whispers filled the space and the entirety of the place:

“I’m afraid that he might pass away any day now. I hope he gets better.”

“He’s such a strong person, but even the lightest cold can be detrimental to older people.”

“Is it really a light cold, though? It seems strange that he sent his daughter-in-law and granddaughters away. What if we catch his disease?” one of the men asked.

“How can you say that?” someone scowled. “If it was something that serious, he would’ve sent us away as well. How can you be so cold after serving him for so many years?”

The man who had just been scrutinized turned away. Mrs. Glad, a middle-aged woman, noticed and tried to intervene.

“Of course, he wouldn’t do that,” she said. “The young ladies are still little and might be overwhelmed by the tense atmosphere. Don’t we know how much the master loves his granddaughters?” She handed the man a platter with a snack on it. “Why don’t you go ahead and serve this to the young master?”

The man took the platter and clutched it tightly.

“I’m more worried that the young master will fall ill,” Mrs. Glad continued. “He didn’t eat much at dinner last night and he only had a bowl of soup this morning. Do you really think any of our worries can compare to the way he’s feeling? Let’s stop discussing this nonsense and just do our work.”

The man took the plate into the young master’s office. He knocked on the door, waited a while before carefully pushing the door open. Thas was sitting at his desk, looking down at his work seriously.

His father is sick, his wife and children are gone—he must be feeling overwhelmed, the man thought. He felt guilty for what he had said earlier.

He cleared his throat. “Sir.”

Thas looked up. The man couldn’t bring himself to meet his eyes, so he just put the platter down on the desk and stepped back.

“Sir, Mrs. Glad told me to bring this to you,” he said. “It’s not good to sit on an empty stomach.”

Thas nodded. “Thank you.”

The man bowed and left, closing the door behind him.