To be the Villainess

O22.

Chapter 22

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third person

THE GRAND DUKE’S mind was in turmoil as his gaze fell upon his daughter, lying pale and still on the bed. Even in her sleep, her tightly shut eyes betrayed the pain she was enduring, and the sight of her suffering was like a knife twisting in his heart. His fists clenched by his sides, struggling to maintain composure.

“What happened?” His voice, though stern and calm, carried a dangerous edge. His expression, however, darkened with every passing second, as if a storm brewed behind his eyes. He cast a sharp, piercing glare at the two knights standing before him, their faces tense under his scrutiny.

“She suddenly collapsed in pain while I was escorting her back to the Banquet Hall, Your Grace,” Zacharias stammered, his voice barely steady. He swallowed hard, his throat dry, as if he could feel the weight of the Grand Duke’s fury bearing down on him.

“And you?” The Grand Duke’s gaze shifted to Sebastian, his tone ice-cold, daring him to offer anything less than the truth.

“I found him carrying the lady when I arrived, Your Grace,” Sebastian replied, his voice level, unflinching. Unlike Zacharias, Sebastian held the Grand Duke’s gaze with a calm, indifferent demeanor, his cold, piercing eyes revealing no hint of fear.

“Worthless!” The Grand Duke’s voice was like thunder, each word spat with venom. “Neither of you has the slightest idea what happened to my daughter? You stand before me with nothing but excuses?” His fists trembled with rage, his entire body tense as though he might explode at any moment. “I should have both of you thrown out of my sight this instant!”

He then turned his fiery glare to Sir Kyle, who stood nearby, eyes wide with panic. “And you! I told you to watch over her, to keep her safe! Yet you let her roam this cursed place unguarded?!” His voice shook the room, the sheer force of his words sending a wave of terror through everyone present. “You’ve failed her, and if anything happens to my daughter, you will pay dearly!”

“It is my fault, Your Grace. I beg your forgiveness,” Sebastian responded, his voice calm but respectful, as he dropped to one knee before the Grand Duke, bowing his head low.

The Grand Duke’s hand flew to his face, rubbing it in frustration as though trying to dispel the overwhelming anger threatening to consume him. “Get out of my sight before I lose what little restraint I have left!” he bellowed, his voice reverberating in the room. “And bring the Imperial doctors immediately, or so help me, you will regret ever setting foot in this palace!”

The two knights exchanged a brief glance, their bodies tense with shared unease, before bowing low to the Grand Duke and quickly exiting the room, leaving behind an air heavy with dread.

Once the room was finally empty, the Grand Duke’s stern façade crumbled, replaced by an expression of deep worry. His usually stoic face was etched with lines of concern, his eyes softening as he looked at his daughter lying helpless on the bed. He walked toward her, each step heavy with sorrow, before sitting gently by her side. His hand trembled slightly as he reached out, carefully smoothing her disheveled hair.

“I’m sorry, Artemisia,” he whispered, his voice barely audible, thick with grief. “Your husband is here now. No one will harm you again.” His words faltered as he leaned down, pressing a soft kiss on her forehead. His lips lingered for a moment, as though trying to transfer all the protection he had failed to give in the past.

But this was not his daughter Arthemice he was speaking to. In the depths of his heart, he wasn’t seeing the young woman lying before him. He saw her—his beloved Artemisia, his long-deceased wife. The lines between reality and memory blurred, and the overwhelming grief he had suppressed for years took hold. His hand stroked Arthemice’s cheek gently, a deep sadness welling in his eyes.