Before the Villains’ Ending - Chapter 2

Before the Villains Ending Episode 2

<2>

The man’s words, in this dangerously intimate atmosphere, were unbefitting to the situation.

“Are you really sick? Tell me.”

“…What?”

I asked back, furrowing my brows.

Did you think that the reason I can’t visit now is that I’m badly ill?

“…”

I stayed silent in response to this wild guess. It’s not the case.

Of course, my condition was known to be quite serious. But there were no main characters who immediately believed in it, except for my sister, Florencia.

Because they were all too smart to be fooled by my acting.

Even Beatrice knew that my illness was a sham. It wasn’t my concern if they guessed the reason for this, and in the end, the main characters all overlooked me anyway, so it didn’t matter.

All of them, except for this guy.

I thought there was absolutely no reason to believe me.

“I’m asking if it wasn’t acting. Answer me, Margaret Eilish.”

What do I do? I was worried.

Unlike Florencia, I was able to get past Beatrice’s assassination attempt with a light punishment. The reasoning was that the ‘weak’ Margaret would not have the strength to stop Florencia.

I looked at the man from afar. The guard responded anxiously to the crunching sound, saying it would be better to get out of the way.

The man across from me strained against his bonds. I licked my lips, in turmoil.

‘What should I do?’

Nothing good will come out of revealing my illness in front of the guard.

“Margaret.”

“Ah, yes.”

“It’s not true, right?”

His eyes, as dark as the night sky, trembled. The guard shouted that he had exceeded his visiting hours, but the Grand Duke remained fixated on me.

A sudden weariness came over me. This was too much, for only a little kindness. I hesitated, and suddenly, wondered if he knew the date of his own execution.

If he knew, would he accept it? Would it be enough for him?

It seemed like he could have escaped prison. But in his ending scene, he gave up his life in despair as the warmth he knew he would never receive from Beatrice crossed his mind.

Perhaps this was the reason why people thought of the shackles, despite the cracks, as merely a precaution. The whole country, including the Crown Prince, knew of this man’s tragedy. I knew it too.

“Mr. Hamel.”

Even as a prisoner, he was still a Grand Duke. I called him by his last name instead of his first. He tilted his head and looked at me eagerly.

That gaze was not the sort of thing meant to be looked into too deeply.

The man just stared at me, desperate. I struggled to put on a twisted smile.

I was not blind. Maybe I gave him the ‘desire to live’ that my sister did not have.

Poor Calix. The villain who, like my sister, was also a victim in a sense.

He had such a look on his face, ‘What if your acting is true?’, on the subject of me dying.

“… tell me, I’ll listen to you calmly.”

One more day. It was a really unintentional impulse to think so.

‘Wake up, Margaret.’

I didn’t have time. I whispered back in slight confusion.

“Get some rest.”

This should be enough, for now. Mumbling out of earshot, I held back a yawn and handed a gold coin to the guard.

There was still one person left to visit.

***

The ending of the novel was beyond just happiness. Beatrice Mary Rosen married the Crown Prince, and most people who hurt her were put to justice.

Beatrice was truly, perfectly safe. Like a pampered rose in the imperial palace. There was nothing suspect about the many people that surrounded her. Not even a single one.

And what about the prince?

He took the throne safely without bloody succession by defeating the enemy called Calix Hamel.

He succeeded the throne safely without any blood spilled, defeating the enemy called Calix Hamel.

Using the first crown prince of the former empress, he cleaned up not only his competitors who dismissed him, but also those who cursed him when he was a child.

He won the blood war without getting his hands dirty.

There was nothing left that could threaten imperial power in the end.

Now, let’s reverse this happy ending. What about the rest of us?

In the story, my sister was little else than a dangerous villainess. She was a woman who had no motivations for murder other than love, unlike Calix or Taylor.

Of course, considering the many defeats she suffered in the original, it definitely wasn’t good for Florencia. But at least, this is what I saw. She didn’t become a tyrant or a witch.

Regardless, she died the most brutally of all the characters in the novel. Her punishment was to burn alive.

It was eerily fitting for the latter part of the novel, where she was later recorded as a witch in imperial history. I remembered the cheering comments in that chapter.

Oh, that annoyance is finally dying. How refreshing! Beatrice, let’s be happy now. You’ll only walk the flowery path from now on. Congratulations!

I once thought the same, outside the novel. Indeed, before this, I had no regard for the circumstances behind it.

She was a villain. It was a role that you could just hate so easily, what else was there to think about?

But when I saw the villains’ situations in person, I stopped talking like that.

No, was Florencia Eilish really a ‘wicked woman’ in the first place?

‘Mel, what do you think would happen if I bothered someone? Do I really look like a witch to you?’

‘My innocent little sister. It will hurt me if you know this. This older sister is more terrifying than you thought.’

‘I didn’t do it, I’m telling you. Believe me! I – No, it’s…’

‘Margaret, it’s my own damn fault. It was because of my love. You’re innocent. Don’t blame yourself. Besides, I’m happy with this ending.’

‘Doing it for my love was good enough. The story is over.’

“It’s the lowest floor. Young Lady.”

The guard’s voice shook me out of my thoughts. I rummaged my pockets for coins and threw them on the floor with a rattle.

It wasn’t funny how quickly my inner turmoil calmed. Ah, materialism!

“Well… good things are good things.”

Since my sister was the Young Lady of a marquis household, the money she possessed was considerable. Besides, my sister was a woman with more money than the marquis himself. If I save the money she gave to me as her sick sister and never spend it, I could buy most houses.

That was why I didn’t actively intervene with the original plot. I thought it was enough money to live on without getting involved.

Well, anyway.

I stared at iron bars that spanned across the basement floor.

Unlike the rusty bars in other areas of the prison, these iron bars–enchanted to allow electric currents to flow–were still clean. Maybe they were replaced again.

It looked like he had another accident. Yes, I thought it had been quiet here for a while.

“Come out.”

The guard ordered. I knew it was useless.

“I came to see you.”

“…”

“You might not be able to come soon… Quack~”

There was the sound of something breaking. At the same time, a man, hugging something like a pillow, appeared.

His lips twitched several times, as if he was searching for something to say.

***

Outside the novel, I, So Jung Eun-ha, held many similarities with Margaret Eilish.

My family lived in an ordinary house with no shortage of money. It was a pretty expansive home, in terms of area.

At least, that was how it was like when I was very young.

And then, when I was ten years old, my mother died.

And when I was twelve, my father became a murderer.

I always had to be silent down there. I didn’t know exactly why it was murder.

I always had to remain silent about it. I didn’t understand why it was murder.

I thought it was just revenge on the man who touched my mother.

Maybe he was afraid to ask for help. At the time, it was impossible to even report it. My father was a man who was desperate to fend for himself.

‘It’s his fault.’

The voice that he used to brainwash me is still clear in my mind. I couldn’t deny him, and I didn’t try to leave.

On the outside, our family seemed to continue on normally.

And then two and a half years later, Dad killed an innocent man for the first time.

I realized.

The more evil you do, the deeper you dig yourself in. Now he’s not just a convict, he’s also a murderous human.

The last time my father strangled me, I regretted everything. Would it have been better, if I had convinced him first? But could he even be rehabilitated, after paying for his crimes?

Should I have tried a little harder? Nothing was certain. Nothing.

***

He had white hair. It wasn’t gleaming silver, but the white of a spider’s web, and just as dusty.

The guard clicked his tongue.

The man’s white clothes, like that of a patient’s, along with his pale skin, were factors that made the man have an overall ethereal appearance.

I was looking at it from afar, when the guard spoke with a disapproving look.

“He had a seizure after her death yesterday. All night.”

Seizures. That was why I often visited this guy.

“Then you must have fallen asleep late. Did I wake you up?”

“…”

Those bright red eyes were dimmed. He kept his lips parted, and asked in a very unsure tone.

“Because of whom?”

His was a voice that cracked at the seams, like he wasn’t used to making any noise. His was a voice that seemed convinced that others wouldn’t come to see him.

I shook my head.

There were many kinds of villains. Florencia, the outspoken woman; the Grand Duke, the second male lead who leads the climax; and the extras, who promoted this and that nonsense.

The man in front of me was oddly none of them.

I once questioned, with some other readers, ‘Couldn’t you have given him a different ending?’

With no emotional or political motives, he was simply ordered to kill.

Taylor, the assassin, was raised that way. He believed that he would be killed if he spoke too much. It was also among the rules of the guild he belonged to.

“Because of whom…”

Unlike the others, there was no such elaborate pleading such as “Don’t go,” or “Why?” I simply responded to his question.

“It’s not because of anyone.”

Taylor was unreadable. It was only after a considerable amount of time that those red eyes fixed back on me again.

Then, it embarrassed me to see him look on the verge of tears as he crinkled his forehead.

“Taylor.”

“You don’t like me anymore? I’ve been having a seizure, so…”

His hand touched the iron bars. There must have been a high-pressure current; I could see the sparks that were popping up.

“Oh, my… What the hell?”

It definitely clashed with my image, for such cursing to come out of my stupid big mouth. But what’s the point of knowing that?

“Mel.”

He called for me again. Even though the voice, twisted by pain, was clear, the hand that reached past the iron bars desperately struggling.