The Villainesses in the Romance Fantasy Novel Became Obsessed with me

Funeral.

I didn’t particularly enjoy funerals.

I disliked the solemn and quiet atmosphere and the air of sadness which hung over there like a blanket.

“… Seems like no one is coming. It might because of the rain.”

“…”

Bluebell remained silent.

She was dressed in black attire appropriate for the funeral.

Perhaps because of that, she seemed even more melancholic than usual.

It seemed like it would be best to conclude the funeral quickly for the sake of everyone’s mental health.

“I’ll be back in a moment.”

“… Hurry back.”

I needed to return as soon as possible.

Bluebell wasn’t in a good state.

It seemed like she hadn’t recovered from the shock of Marquis Irten’s death.

‘I hope she can overcome this.’

With that thought in mind, I went around the mansion to find the head butler.

After about 10 minutes of searching.

I found him in the mansion’s lobby.

“Head Butler, are you sure you’ve properly informed everyone? Why aren’t the guests coming?”

Old Head Butler Rave.

He pushed up his glasses and replied with a stern tone.

“I’m not sure, but I suspect they might be reluctant to attend because of the rain.”

“Marquis Pieridot has died. Do you think it makes sense that the nobility of the territory wouldn’t attend?”

Especially considering that Marquis Irten was well-respected and known for his character?

I knew the truth, but I pretended to be oblivious and expressed my anger.

Upon seeing my reaction, Butler Rave sighed heavily.

“I am well aware of that too. I know better than anyone how great Marquis Irten’s reputation is. But what can we do about this harsh reality…”

Rave was genuinely distraught.

And he was disappointed by the cold reality.

“Marquis Irten did so much for everyone… Even the heavens are cruel. Don’t you agree?”

“Indeed. The heavens are truly cruel. The funeral should be filled with people.”

In the novel, Marquis Irten was portrayed as a pushover.

Kind, considerate, and someone who always made a way for others.

However, now his funeral was empty, with not a single person in attendance.

‘In the novel, Bluebell was alone. She stood there without knowing how to conduct the funeral.’

According to the novel’s description,

Bluebell waited until the rain stopped.

‘So many people owe my dad a favor. They will come when the rain stops. Until then, I can’t put my dad in the coffin.’

Bluebell waited endlessly until the rain stopped.

Staring at her father’s corpse.

Even as the corpse began to rot and flies buzzed around.

‘My dad… He was more kind than anyone. So they will definitely come.’

Bluebell, who lacked patience and perseverance, waited for the mourners alone because she couldn’t put her father in the coffin by herself.

‘She’s bad, but kind.’

No matter how poorly she treated the servants or disobeyed her parents.

She loved her father, Marquis Irten, very much.

“… No matter how long we wait, people won’t come.”

“It’s been 5 hours since we sent the letters. They might come soon-”

No, they would never come.

Interrupting the butler, I firmly declared.

“The funeral will proceed with just me, Bluebell, and the mansion’s servants.”

Even though I wasn’t a family member.

I had to take responsibility for Bluebell, so I told the butler and returned to where she was waiting for me.

However.

I thought I had handled things as quickly as possible.

“You’re late, where have you been…? Do you know how uncomfortable it was being alone…? Don’t leave me alone again…”

But I didn’t know what kind of fear Bluebell experienced alone.

She clung to my collar, trembling with fear and anxiety.

‘This is worse than I thought…’

No, worse than planned.

She didn’t look well.

***

Irten’s funeral was held at the family cemetery located at the back gate of the mansion.

Normally, it was much less troublesome and more convenient to contact the church and proceed together.

But since there were no mourners, we decided to conduct the funeral ourselves.

“Is Lady Bluebell okay with me handling this alone?”

“… Do as you please. I don’t care anymore. And, I just…”

She didn’t want to see her dead father anymore.

“I hate everything now… I just want it all to be over…”

It was hard to see clearly because of the rain.

But Bluebell was certainly crying.

I placed a black umbrella over her head.

“Let’s finish this quickly and go inside. Close the coffin.”

At my words, the servants, especially the two strong coachmen, lifted Irten’s coffin.

They slowly approached the grave with the coffin.

Originally, Bluebell should have given a eulogy while the burial took place.

But she neither knew how nor was in any state to do so.

Watching Irten being buried, Bluebell gently leaned her head on my shoulder.

“… Now cover him with soil, send Marquis Irten to a peaceful place. The Irten I knew has surely reached the god Zephyros.”

Swoosh—

As the rain poured, Marquis Irten was buried with the coffin by the coachmen.

Whether it was the sorrow brought upon by the fact that she would never be able to see him.

“Sniff… Dad…”

Along with the members of the mansion, Bluebell cried sorrowfully.

To comfort Bluebell, I wrapped my arms around her shoulders.

“You must endure this, Lady Bluebell.”

Today’s event will drastically change the empire’s political landscape and signal the beginning of the novel.

And Bluebell had to somehow overcome this melancholy and shed her villainous image.

***

{Bluebell’s Pov}

The morning was refreshing.

The light warmed my body and filled me with energy.

The afternoon was fun.

I teased the people in the mansion and spent time wandering around the flower garden.

Except for studying, it was a really enjoyable time.

The evening was regretful.

The fun times had passed, and I had to sleep in the dark.

Why do people have to sleep?

I couldn’t understand it at all, but I fell asleep with all kinds of chaotic thoughts.

The early dawn was even more depressing.

My mind kept thinking of useless stuff, and it led to a chain reaction.

Even when I try to forget, they torment me as if I mustn’t.

“Dad… Dad must have liked me, right? He loved me even if I didn’t listen, right?”

Of course, Dad loved me.

I knew that.

But with overwhelming regret, I doubt myself.

“If I had known Dad was going to die, I would have listened better… I planned to listen better later…”

It was all the doctor’s fault for not curing Dad.

“No, it’s my fault for not noticing Dad was sick.”

If only I had studied hard.

If I were a genius like Damian, I could have cured Dad.

“Oh, no. I can’t study well anyway. I can’t do it anyway.”

The early dawn made me honest.

However, the truth overwhelmed me like a tide, making it impossible to breathe.

“Sigh… Mom must feel like this too. Dad said I resemble Mom.”

Mom used to be lively too.

Maybe she didn’t come out of her room because of this pain?

I thought I kind of understood, yet I didn’t understand at all.

“No. Stop thinking, Bluebell. Just go to sleep…”

Forget about today’s events.

Forget that no one came to Dad’s funeral, and that Dad closed his eyes and went into the coffin.

You have to forget.

So you won’t feel like dying.

“Sigh… If Damian were here… Sigh… l wouldn’t have these thoughts?”

I couldn’t breathe and my chest felt unbearably tight.

With a light coat draped over my shoulders, I picked up a lantern and opened the door.

“I need… Sigh… I need someone to talk to…”

Late at night,

I left my room, trying to survive the pain.

***

{Damian’s POV}

Strangely enough, I had one strange ability.

A very trivial ability which was only possessed by me.

‘This is a dream.’

Lucid dreaming.

The ability to distinguish between dreams and reality.

It was a pretty useless ability, but whether in my past life or in this world, this ability had persisted.

‘What is today’s dream about?’

Dreams don’t show things clearly.

They mix up the content or show it vaguely.

Today’s dream was closer to the latter.

‘This is something from the past.’

Around the time I was in college?

It wasn’t clear, but my friend and I were smoking while conversing.

‘Phew. What do you think counseling is?’

In the dream, I answered while sucking on a candy.

‘Empathizing with emotions and healing the heart.’

What I was actually holding was a cigarette.

Anyway.

To my answer, my friend cynically replied.

‘You idiot, that’s not counseling, that’s coddling. Real counseling involves calculating the emotions and presenting solutions.’

He didn’t actually use the word coddling.

And, come to think of it, the me in the dream wasn’t really me.

The one with the cigarette was me.

‘For example, there’s always a reason for a movie villain’s actions. Those reasons vary depending on their past, inherent disposition, or genetic traits.’

‘So, what are you trying to say?’

‘If there’s a broken machine, don’t you want to fix it? I want to fix it. A machine that’s broken and just left as is…’

It’s pitiful.

I automatically feel sympathy for it.

In the dream, I spoke with fearful honesty.

Because of that.

‘What kind of doctor feels sorry for their patient? You quack.’

My reputation plummeted, and I was expelled from wherever it was; a university or a hospital.

How much of this dream was true?

Just as I was trying to focus in the dream to discern that.

-I’m coming in, Damian.

I woke up to Bluebell’s voice.

***

I asked, lying in bed, still half-asleep.

“… What brings you here at this hour?”

“I just couldn’t sleep.”

Plop—

Bluebell said that as she sat on my bed.

Even without looking closely, I figured that her breathing was uneven.

Her body was also trembling slightly.

‘Is she unable to sleep because of today?’

It was understandable.

A funeral with such a strange atmosphere as today’s would naturally have a negative impact.

There was a reason why I had a nightmare.

“Why don’t we sit and talk for a bit?”

“… What are we going to talk about?”

Bluebell looked wary.

I chuckled lightly and said gently.

“Just a normal conversation. Something we both might find interesting.”

“I like that! Then I’ll start talking!”

Finally, she was back to the girl I knew.

Bluebell dropped her guard and shouted as usual.

“Something fun that happened to me! It was before you came! I was bored and playing cards with a maid! Then, the butler came and scolded me!”

Wait a second.

“What kind of card game were you playing that the butler came to scold you?”

“We were just playing a game where the loser had to take off a piece of clothing! Of course, I never lost even once.”

“… You must be very good at card games.”

I was skeptical.

She probably lost and said, ‘I didn’t lose, let’s play again.’

It was a reasonable suspicion.

“Of course! I’m really good at card games! So, I was planning to go to a casino later!”

“Because it’s fun to go?”

“Exactly. When I’m pranking someone or having fun, I don’t think about anything else! Just full of fun thoughts!”

Bluebell was excited. She talked cheerfully without her usual prickliness.

‘That’s definitely it. All the symptoms match.’

People with depression often focus on pleasure to shake off their gloom.

Bluebell tormented people to hide her loneliness and sadness.

Seeing Bluebell’s psychological state close to the description in novel, I felt I understood her better.

I felt closer to her.

“Your stories are interesting, Lady Bluebell.”

“Right? See how fun I am! You should be grateful to be my teacher!”

“Well, that’s a bit…”

It was hard to feel grateful for that.

At that moment.

“Why? Do you hate me? Do you dislike me?”

Bluebell’s demeanor suddenly changed.

She started staring at me with her blue eyes and appeared serious.

“Don’t you like being my teacher?”

This was driving me crazy.

I concealed my confusion and responded calmly to Bluebell’s serious question.

“No, I never said that I didn’t like-”

“Bullshit. Damian, you just said you didn’t like me. It’s the same thing! Am I wrong?!”

She was mentally unstable.

But I couldn’t tell Bluebell she was crazy.

The best way to handle was this.

“Rather than ‘grateful,’ I thought ‘thankful’ would be a better expression…”

“Are you playing word games with me now?”

Yes.

It was a word game.

However, such word games were excellent for lightening the mood.

“As expected, Lady Bluebell, you’re very smart. You’re smarter than I thought.”

“… Really? Am I smart?”

For the simple-minded Bluebell, this was even more effective.

Bluebell leaned her head toward me, smiling.

“Since I’m smart, pat my head. It’s a compliment.”

“Yes, well done, very commendable.”

“It’s always fun with you. Talk with me until I fall asleep!”

Damn it.

A teacher without basic rights.

But all I could do was shed tears in my heart.

“So, guess what! What I did in the mansion was…”

And so, Bluebell chatted away, lying on my bed until she was satisfied and fell asleep.

The sun was rising outside the window.

‘…I give up.’

My strongest desire was sleep.

Unable to resist my drowsiness, I lay down next to Bluebell and closed my eyes.

“Don’t… abandon me…”

Bluebell mumbled, clinging to me.

It seemed like getting a good night’s sleep was out of the question today.