Please Leave The Sickly Villainess Alone

Crack-

That was the sound that broke the stillness enveloping the quiet Troy Orphanage in the darkness.

I couldn’t see what I had stepped on because it was so dark. But what mattered now was that the sound was louder than I expected.

Miss Layola was a particularly light sleeper, so it wouldn’t be strange for her to burst through that heavy door any moment now.

Bang!!

Sure enough, the door I hoped wouldn’t open burst open violently.

“Who is it! Which naughty child broke the lights-out curfew at eleven?”

A gruff voice, reminiscent of the wicked witch from fairy tales, boomed loudly into the quiet space.

The clumsy, stumbling footsteps struggling to support her massive frame approached me, and the towering figure was so tall that even at fifteen years old, I had to crane my neck to look up at her.

“I’m sorry, Miss Layola. I had a scary dream and couldn’t fall back asleep, so I was just going to get some water.”

Knowing her rabid dislike for the sound of a child crying, I spoke carefully while watching her expression and steadying my trembling voice.

If she had been an ordinary, kind orphanage matron, she might have smiled gently, said ‘is that so?’ and patted my head.

But my opponent was Layola, the notorious former mercenary turned the head of the orphanage!

Her brown eyes were bloodshot like someone who hadn’t slept for days.

She usually suffered from insomnia but still cherished any light sleep she could get.

And it seemed tonight was one of those rare nights when her precious slumber had been disturbed.

Perhaps because her eyes hadn’t adjusted to the darkness, Layola stumbled forward without seeing the tree right in front of her and crashed into it.

“Ugh…”

Before I could even gasp, the tree fell right on top of the hulking Miss Layola.

Crash!

And the lights and ornaments the children had prettily decorated the tree for the Imperial Festival, with each made their own sound as they shattered.

“Ahhhh-!”

What is this, the scene of a one-man show?

The large and small shards of glass bounced all the way to my feet.

“Are, are you oka…”

“I’m not okay!”

Miss Layola shouted as she jumped to her feet.

Fortunately, despite the rather big commotion, the children didn’t come out.

The children, well aware of Layola’s fiery temper, knew that the moment they opened the door and came out, the one-hour lecture could turn into two hours and could even exceed five.

Miss Layola seemed to have come to her senses thanks to that, avoiding the broken glass shards as she approached me.

Seeing that ridiculous yet terrifying sight, I thought to myself.

‘Alright, let’s give up one of my ears tonight.’

I was prepared to endure her machine-gun nagging.

“Ria! Go sit in the thinking chair!”

I neatly folded up the plan I was going to carry out tonight and let myself be led by Layola’s hand to the thinking chair.

Last time, Terry, who had set the record for the longest nagging from Miss Layola, said she had to listen to those scolding for three whole hours, and I had an ominous feeling that I might surpass that time this round.

Miss Layola clicked her tongue disapprovingly at the mess of the fallen tree and shattered glass, then picked up the thin whip from the side table.

The whip itself didn’t look that painful, but the person holding it had arms that were weapons themselves.

I gulped and walked towards the thinking chair located in the center.

Crunch.

‘Ah, ouch!’

A shard of broken glass I hadn’t seen must have stabbed into the sole of my foot, as it hurt enough to bring tears to my eyes.

Still, I didn’t make a sound of pain. It would do no good to further stoke Miss Layola’s anger right now.

As I slowly walked, my foot was pricked at least three more times.

Sighing, I plopped down on the old chair I arrived at and opened my mouth.

“I am a bad child who broke the 11 o’clock lights out rule.”

When you sit here, you have to confess your wrongdoings like in a confession.

Then Miss Layola would approach, flicking her wrist holding the whip.

She would circle around me like a shark eyeing its prey and really start running her mouth.

“Ria, you receive the generous patronage of the prestigious Troy Orphanage sponsored by the great Duke Kablos, and yet as an orphan you continue causing nothing but trouble.”

Not a single word was true except for my name being Ria.

The Duke Kablos didn’t sponsor us, just occasionally sent potato sacks to stave off starvation at this poor excuse for a ‘prestigious’ orphanage isolated deep in the woods, its very existence unknown to most people.

As for the ‘generous patronage’, that was laughable. The so-called orphanage’s director loved dishing out corporal punishment but never nurtured the children, acting more like a petty dictator.

Lastly, I wasn’t even an orphan, in this life or my previous one.

My family in this life was likely living comfortably in the capital’s old castle.

As I got distracted by these thoughts, Layola’s mouth kept running nonstop.

“What is the fourth of the Ten Rules of Troy Orphanage?”

“Lights-out at eleven.”

“And you knew that but still broke it. Are you mocking me?”

She smacked her palm repeatedly with the whip, venting her irritation.

My soles stung from the glass shards and an itchy, prickly sensation spread through them as I fidgeted.

Layola’s voice grew increasingly shrill, giving me a pounding headache.

Then suddenly there was another creak as the door opened again.

‘Luka?!’

Standing in the open doorway, an inscrutable look on his face as he gazed in our direction, was a young boy.

Through the partially opened door, I could see most of the other children had already woken up from the commotion and were peering out worriedly.

“Yeek-! You brat! Why did you come out too?!”

Layola lashed out hysterically, switch in hand.

“It’s too loud, I can’t sleep at all.”

“Can’t sleep?!”

“Yeah.”

That last curt ‘yeah’ made it sound even more petulant!

I gaped at Luka, who was one year younger than me, as he stared straight back at me.

Luka then said looking at me:

“Ria didn’t do anything wrong. I asked her to bring me some water.”

Layola’s nerves were clearly fraying due to Luka’s strangely rebellious behavior.

“Switch places-!”

Confused by her sharp tone, I looked at her blankly until the thunderous rebuke followed.

“I said switch places!”

Luka came over and plopped down heavily in the seat I had just vacated.

Then he calmly said:

“I am the naughty child who got Ria into trouble.”

Following the rules, Luka stated his perceived wrongdoing matter-of-factly.

Soon enough, Layola exploded with fury, her face contorted.

“That’s not wrong-! Do you really not know what you did wrong?!”

“I can’t think of anything else besides that.”

“Who taught you to be so cheeky!”

‘T-That was me…I taught him…’

It was undoubtedly me who had ‘taught’ Luka that way.

So I rushed over and gripped his shoulders, shaking him as I was sorely tempted to recite to him again the ‘Eleven Precautions around the Wicked Witch’, but I managed to hold myself back as I gauged Layola’s mood.

Layola rubbed her forehead and waved at me, who was standing hesitantly, to go away.

“You go back inside. This brat Luka needs to have his obstinate head properly fixed today.”

‘But Luka never actually asked me to bring him water…’

I shot Luka a bewildered look, and he quickly nodded for me to go back inside.

He was taking Layola’s lengthy lecture in my place – a bond thicker than blood.

But as my gaze fell on the whip in Layola’s grip, worry washed over me.

Seeing my inner conflict, Luka mouthed, ‘It’s okay, just go.’

His firm words made me carefully retreat, wincing at the sting in my soles.

Before the door closed completely, the last view was of Layola’s intimidating back as she menacingly faced Luka, who met her gaze unflinchingly with his impassive red eyes.

The door closed silently and I sank down in front of it.

The trickle of blood from my feet wasn’t the issue.

‘I’m worried about Luka out there. What was he thinking, pulling a stunt like that…’

Layola had been relatively lenient toward the exceptionally beautiful Luka, reluctant to mar his looks which were considered a valuable asset.

But judging by Luka’s attitude, it didn’t seem like it would end with just a scolding this time.

The thought of that young child having to face the wicked witch alone to help me made my head spin cold.

His light brown hair, his faintly glowing red eyes in the darkness – I couldn’t get them out of my mind.

“No matter how I think about it, I can’t just leave him to that fate.”

I pushed past the other children and sat at the desk, writing a letter in graceful penmanship uncharacteristic of a child.

[To Miss Layola]

I started by addressing the recipient.

[I love you. I have melted under the warmth of your chestnut-colored eyes. Could it be that you, who loves the children so passionately, are an embodiment of an angel? I eagerly await our meeting on the next night of the twin moons’ rise.]

Even as I wrote it, the disturbing content made my skin crawl.

[From Viscount Louiscone.]

Layola was essentially the disgraced Viscount Louiscone’s most devoted, if unrequited, stalker when it came to managing this orphanage.

No matter that a witch’s soul lurked within, even someone as formidable as her was rendered helpless before love.

So if the letter claimed the Viscount, who normally viewed Layola as nothing more than a pesky insect underfoot and paid her no mind, had praised her affection for the children…!

But the real question was whether the transparent ruse of my hastily scribbled, still drying letter would actually fool her.

As I exhaled to dry the ink, I prayed – not to any particular deity, but simply for Luka’s safety from that wicked witch.

Then, watching for my chance, I blew the letter through the gap under the door.

Whoosh!

A little while later…

“What’s this garbage?”

Layola’s grumbling about us always making messes instead of cleaning up came through the door.

But after a few beats of silence where she must have recognized what the ‘garbage’ letter was…

“Oh my, why didn’t I see this letter sooner? The Viscount has finally replied to me!”

The unmistakable delighted tones of Layola, made foolish by love, rang out clearly.

Fortunately, she had fallen for my poorly forged letter.

Sometimes I had to reasonably doubt whether her mental age was lower than even the children here.

Had it not been for her imposing physique as a former mercenary soldier, she likely couldn’t have maintained control with such a dense personality.

Thankfully, Layola was highly mercurial, so after warning there better not be a repeat incident, she tossed aside the whip and returned to her room humming a merry tune.

Only after I heard her door close could I finally breathe a sigh of relief.

Carefully, I cracked open the door to find Luka standing right there.

Unlike the startled me, Luka calmly met my gaze with a serene expression.

Perhaps this was the steely resolve required to become a novel’s male lead from such a young age.

Relieved to see no apparent harm had come to him, I cupped his soft, rice cake-like cheeks in my hands and squished them.

With his speech slurred, Luka grumbled:

“Stwahp thawt.”

“Don’t ever do that again. It was my mistake, so I’ll take the punishment.”

Luka gazed up at me impassively for a moment before gently removing my hands from his face. Then he abruptly leaned in close.

“Wh-What?”