The Villain’s Ending

Chapter 16

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The rain fell.

The sky was entirely ash-gray, and thick raindrops incessantly beat against the window.

The world seemed entirely gray.

At least, it did to Levina.

She stood by the large window in her room, looking down at the rain-drenched garden.

The trees and flowers, soaked with rainwater, took on deeper hues than usual.

Everything hung heavy.

A coffee cup was in her hand.

But the cup was empty.She merely stood there, holding the coffee cup out of habit.

Her mind was a tangled mess.

Lavin’s death. Lavin's fiancée, Seraphina.

The Saintess, whose gaze somehow felt cold as she looked at her.

Everything mixed together in a jumble, tormenting her.

She hadn't slept a wink last night.

When she closed her eyes, she saw Lavin's hanging form, and Seraphina's vacant face as she had supposedly embraced him.

'It’s because of you.'

She didn't want to hear such words.

Because she couldn't deny it.

Nor could she offer any excuses.

She couldn't lie.

Not that she wouldn't, but that she couldn't.

Perhaps because she was foolish, she couldn't.

She didn't know.

Now, even if she thought about such things, nothing would change.

The dead don't return.

It was a fact she knew better than anyone.

Knock, knock.

A knock broke her reverie.

"Come in."

The door opened, and an old butler entered.

Deliam. A man who had been in this mansion since before she was born.

Deep wrinkles were etched on his face, but his back was still straight.

"My Lady."

He bowed respectfully.

"I told you to call me Young Head of Edelgard."

"I apologize, but to me, you have been My Lady since you were a child."

"Enough. So... why have you come?"

"I have tidied Young Master Lavin's room. I came to ask how you wish to handle his belongings."

Levina slowly turned around.

"Are there any belongings to speak of?"

"There were a few."

The butler placed a tray on her desk.

A velvet cloth was laid on the tray, and several items rested upon it.

A weighty revolver.

A crumpled sheet of letter paper, an unopened bottle of an unknown liquor, and various sundry items.

Levina's gaze lingered on them.

The revolver was his mother's keepsake, which she had returned to Lavin.

And the letter.

It was left by Seraphina.

"Is this all?"

"Yes, My Lady. There was nothing else of note in the room besides these."

Levina approached the desk and picked up the revolver.

The cold weight of the metal was substantial in her palm.

She opened the cylinder.

It was empty.

She picked up the crumpled letter paper.

Perhaps it had been discarded and then picked up again, for the paper was a mess.

She carefully unfolded it.

A faint scent of lilac emanated from it.

[To Lavin.]

The handwriting was clumsy.

It seemed hastily written, with some ink smudges.

Levina began to read the letter.

[The annulment... I spoke to Father about it, and I already told Young Head Levina. I'm sorry. But I'll somehow try to stop it. It might take some time. Or perhaps it might not work at all. Still, still, I'll somehow find a way. Kyle and I are truly nothing to each other. It's just that, by chance, there were monsters we had to hunt together. Young Head Levina also went with us sometimes, so if you're really suspicious, you can ask her. I'm sorry for causing you trouble again because of me. I never meant to hurt you, but it always turns out this way. I don't know if you'll read this letter, but I'm writing it anyway. Just because I want to convey my feelings. We might not be able to go back to how we were, but still, still, I...]

The crumpled letter ended there.

The area near the last sentence was torn.

Levina silently gazed down at the letter.

There was no expression on her face.

Deliam stood quietly beside her.

He asked nothing.

He merely awaited his master's decision.

"I will keep these."

Levina said.

Her voice was as cold and steady as usual.

"Clear out the room completely. Leave nothing behind.

If the Academy is reluctant, call a priest."

"Understood, My Lady."

The butler bowed respectfully once more, took the tray, and left the room.

Silence returned to the room.

Levina returned to the window and looked down at the rain-drenched garden again.

In her hand was the letter Seraphina had left.

She read the letter over and over again.

Each word, as if savoring it.

She couldn't know.

What expression Seraphina had worn while writing this letter.

What Lavin had thought after reading this letter.

And why he had left these things behind when he departed.

The rain continued to fall.

The world was entirely, ash-gray.

She placed the letter deep inside her desk drawer.

That was all she could do.

At least for now.

Levina set down the empty coffee cup and sat back at her desk.

She had work to do.

As the heir to the family, as the president, as the Young Head of Edelgard.

There was no time to wallow in sorrow or guilt.

She had been taught that way, and she had lived that way.

However, her steps were heavier than usual.

Her shadow, as she walked down the hallway, stretched long into the darkness of the rainy day.

As if she carried an invisible burden.

Documents were piled high.

Family financial reports, estate management issues, preparations for Lavin's funeral, and even preparations for social gatherings.

Tasks she would normally handle skillfully felt overwhelming today.

She couldn't protest to her father as before, saying this wasn't her job.

Because these days, he spent more time sickly in bed.

There was no need to speak to her mother.

Because she was a woman without thoughts.

She picked up her pen.

The familiar feel of her fountain pen.

But her fingers had no strength.

The ink bled on the paper.

Just like her mind.

Eventually, she set down the pen.

And closed her eyes.

In the darkness, Lavin's face appeared.

It wasn't his hanging form.

It was a memory of him from when he was very young, laughing in the mansion's garden, bathed in sunlight.

Back then, he had always trailed after her.

"Sister, Sister."

He called out to her to the point of annoyance.

So much so that even her mother had asked if she was going to leave that half-wit as he was.

One day, he offered her wild flowers he had picked from the garden.

A small bouquet, clumsily tied with his unskilled hands.

She did not accept the bouquet.

Instead, she said coldly.

"I'll speak to Father and have an etiquette tutor assigned to you. Even if you are my younger brother, shouldn't you know your place? You need to understand your position."

At those words, the smile vanished from Lavin's face.

He said nothing, placed the bouquet on the ground, and turned away.

His small shoulders slumped.

That retreating figure was still vivid in her mind.

Only after Lavin had gone did Levina pick up the bouquet, take it to her room, and display it beautifully.

Though it withered shortly thereafter.

Why had she done that?

Was accepting that small gesture of goodwill really so difficult?

Perhaps she shouldn't have cared so much about what her mother said.

Every day, when it was just the two of them, her mother would say that Lavin's mother was a terrible harlot who deceived her father, that Lavin was just as wicked and evil, having taken after her, and that as a bastard who wanted to usurp her position as head of the family, he should be poisoned and killed immediately. She should have just ignored those words.

Because her mother, then as now, wasn't quite sane.

No matter how many excuses she searched for in her mind, it was no different than if she had killed him herself.

Seraphina's words were right.

It wasn't treatment; it was rearing.

It was merely her own greed.

Levina opened her eyes.

The room was still dark.

The rain showed no sign of stopping.

She rose from her seat.

She opened the drawer and took out Lavin's revolver.

And loaded the removed bullets.

She aimed the muzzle at her temple.

The cold feel of the metal was chillingly vivid.

If she pulled the trigger, everything would end.

This guilt, this emptiness.

But she couldn't pull the trigger.

She was scared.

She wasn't a great enough person to defy her mother's words.

Because she was a coward.

Because she was a coward, she acted like a perfect person to hide herself.

While others played, she studied, pretending to take others' praise for granted.

She was scared.

Listening to her mother's words, she genuinely believed Lavin might try to drive her out or kill her.

Because she was a coward and ugly, she thought she herself was fully capable of such things.

Because she was a coward, she crushed Lavin.

She trampled him underfoot, acting as if he could never be a human of her caliber.

Just as Seraphina had said, she behaved uglily and disgustingly.

No, she wasn't a coward.

She was the Young Head of Edelgard, who virtually led the family, the student council president, and Edelgard's pride, excellent since childhood.

So, pulling the trigger was something she could easily do.

Levina closed her eyes, put the slightly lowered muzzle into her mouth, and frantically inhaled and exhaled, her hands trembling.

Then she lowered the revolver.

Sweeping her hand across her face, letting out a breath.

She was scared.

She was a coward, so she hated pain.

She was a coward, so she was afraid of dying.

She walked back to the window.

She looked at the rain-drenched garden with empty eyes.

"I'm sorry, Lavin."

No sound came out.

She merely repeated it in her mind.

But that apology reached no one.

Lost in the sound of the rain, it merely scattered into the empty air.