A Guide to Raising a Villainess-Chapter 90: Private conversation

To be honest, Roger Dickens’ behavior today did seem a little... strange to me.

I tried to figure out what exactly caused me to feel that way. Was it his strange words about blood? Or the moment when he stood at the easel, mesmerized, adding red strokes to the canvas with an almost reverent tremor?

These thoughts kept bothering me, even though I tried to convince myself that I was overreacting. Maybe I’m just too impressionable, and the excitement from our last meeting still hasn’t completely worn off.

After all, Roger has always been a person who devoted himself entirely to whatever he was involved in. Perhaps the same thing had happened with his creative work this time.

Besides, he said he was still suffering from headaches. Perhaps that was the reason for his unusual behavior — fatigue and loss of concentration. Yes, that must be it.

I sighed heavily, leaning back in the carriage seat.

There was no point in tormenting myself with guesses. After all, I am not a doctor, and certainly not a close friend of his, to delve into his personal affairs. Strange as it may seem, none of this should matter much to me.

Let him just rest a little, and maybe everything will be fine by the next class.

I sighed again, deciding not to give in to dark thoughts. Today, with all its unusual events, had ended earlier than expected, which meant I had some free time.

And perhaps it was worth spending it on something more productive than useless musings.

"To the city," I said to the coachman, looking out the window.

He nodded, and the wheels of the carriage creaked softly on the pavement.

The road to the center did not take long.

The day was clear, the air was cool but fresh — after the stuffiness of the estate, it felt especially pleasant. The city streets were bustling: ladies in wide-brimmed hats strolled leisurely along the sidewalks, shopkeepers displayed their wares in shop windows, and the smell of freshly baked bread and coffee wafted from the nearest café.

I asked the coachman to stop near the shopping arcade and got out of the carriage.

I wasn’t planning on doing any serious shopping today — I just wanted to visit a few stores to buy the essentials.

Nevertheless, immersed in this familiar, peaceful rhythm of city life, I involuntarily felt the anxiety that had settled in me after meeting Roger gradually dissipate.

The shop windows sparkled in the sunlight, the tinkling of bells on the doors, the smell of perfume and fresh paper — it all had a calming effect.

I bought some stationery, a few books, and a new notebook, then popped into a fabric store, where I couldn’t resist choosing a piece of soft lilac silk — not because I needed it, but simply because I really liked the color.

This silk could make beautiful new curtains for the living room. The old ones were long overdue for replacement, and now I even enjoyed thinking about how the room would be refreshed when this soft lilac shade filled it with warmth and light.

I didn’t buy very much, but the process gave me unexpected pleasure.

When I finally left the last store, it seemed like an eternity had passed, although in reality it was no more than an hour.

I pressed my purchases to my chest and headed back to where my carriage was waiting. The air had grown a little cooler, the streets had thinned out — the few passersby hurried about their business, and from afar came the ringing of bells announcing the evening service.

And then... 𝒇𝓻𝓮𝓮𝙬𝙚𝒃𝒏𝓸𝙫𝒆𝙡.𝓬𝓸𝒎

Suddenly, a dark figure appeared in front of me.

I stopped, not believing my eyes for a moment. It was the same man in the long black cloak I had seen last time!

A chill ran down my spine.

Before I could react, the stranger came too close and suddenly grabbed my arm.

"Hey!" I exclaimed, stunned and indignant. "What do you think you’re doing?!"

His fingers were cold and strong, like steel hoops, and I instinctively tried to break free.

"Let me go!" I jerked, but his grip did not loosen.

"Lady Weinstein," he said hoarsely. "Please... you must come with me."

"I’m not going anywhere!" I snapped, trying to break free again.

I looked around, hoping someone would notice, but the street was almost empty. No city guards, no passersby ready to intervene — it was as if the whole world had turned its back on me in an instant. Even the members of the Order of the Shadow, who seemed to be following me everywhere, had vanished.

"When you really need them, they’re nowhere to be found," I thought bitterly.

Meanwhile, the man continued to pull me away insistently, his movements confident and calculated, as if all this was happening according to a premeditated plan.

"Let go of me immediately!" I continued to shout, but no one listened to me.

We turned into a narrow alley where the houses stood so close together that almost no light could penetrate between them. The air here was cold and smelled of dampness and dust.

And then I saw it — a dark carriage standing at the end of the alley.

Its black, polished body reflected rare glints of light, but the windows were covered with thick fabric that did not let a single ray through.

My companion let go of my hand, and I automatically rubbed my wrist, where I could still feel the pressure of his fingers.

"Lady," he said hoarsely, bowing slightly, "go in there. My master is already waiting for you."

"What?" I took a step back, looking at him with obvious irritation and fear. "What master?!"

There was no answer. The man just stretched out his hand, pointing to the carriage. There was something insistent in his posture and at the same time... strangely respectful, as if he himself was afraid of whoever was waiting for me inside.

I swallowed nervously. Everything inside me resisted — my heart was beating faster, my fingers were trembling, and my mind was desperately telling me to just turn around and leave. But...

Apparently, I had no choice anyway.

I just sighed heavily.

Without saying a word, the man simply opened the carriage door and bowed his head slightly, letting me in.

I stepped onto the footboard, and the canopy behind me immediately closed, enveloping me in semi-darkness.

And then I noticed him.

Someone was sitting in the opposite seat, shrouded in shadow. The figure was small. A hood concealed the face, but when the stranger spoke, I felt a chill run down my spine.

"Lady Weinstein," the voice was unexpectedly soft. "I am so glad we finally get to meet."

I froze.

A child?

The voice really did sound like it belonged to a child, but there was an unnatural confidence in it that was foreign to his age. I felt uneasy.

"Who are you?" I asked, trying to keep my voice steady, even though my chest was trembling with tension. "And why did you want to see me?"

He bowed his head slightly, and a pale face flashed from under his hood. A faint smile touched his lips — almost affectionate, but there was something disturbing about it.

"The thing is, I really needed to talk to you," he said.

I narrowed my eyes.

"And for that, your servant practically kidnapped me in the middle of the street?" I tried to speak calmly, but my voice trembled involuntarily. "If you really wanted to talk, couldn’t you have done it in a more civilized manner?"

The boy smiled slightly after my remark.

For a moment, it seemed to me that I had heard this voice somewhere before. The intonation and the smile were like an echo of something long forgotten, surfacing from the depths of my memory.

"But where? Where could I have heard it before?" Thoughts raced through my head, but the answer eluded me.

Meanwhile, my mysterious interlocutor continued in the same calm tone:

"Yes, I’m sorry, it really was my fault. But..." He paused for a second, and his voice lowered to a whisper. "I had no other choice."

I frowned even more.

"What are you talking about?" I asked warily, feeling an unpleasant, almost physical sense of anxiety rising in my chest.

The boy paused for a moment. It became very quiet inside the carriage — so quiet that I could hear my own breathing, uneven and slightly rapid.

"You see... I really had to hurry. Before she watches us."

"What?" I frowned, feeling a chill run down my spine. "What are you talking about? Who is she?"

In response, the boy raised his head slightly, and I caught a faint movement of his lips in the dim light.

"Can’t you hear it?" he said with a slight, almost mysterious intonation.

I didn’t immediately understand what he meant.

"The game music isn’t playing right now," he continued in the same strangely soft voice, "but as soon as it does..." He leaned a little closer, and I heard him almost right next to my ear, "it will mean that she will hear every word we say."

For a few seconds, I just sat there, unable to respond.

It was as if time had frozen for a moment between the beats of my heart.

Game music?

The boy’s words echoed in my head, and I involuntarily felt a chill run down my spine.

No. No, I definitely didn’t hear that wrong.

"What... what did you just say?" My voice trembled, and I barely recognized it myself.