APVYL 02

The Villainess Draws Pictures – Episode 2

The wicked older sister who torments her younger sibling who lost their parents. The worst villainess who bullies, slanders, and behaves maliciously toward the kind-hearted girl.

That description wasn’t entirely wrong. From Yeon Ha-yoon’s perspective, Violet indeed had many unpleasant traits.

She disliked Aileen.

So she bullied her.

Her immature actions had taken deep root in her life, and the prejudice formed from them could no longer be uprooted. The way Violet’s older brothers cared more for their cousin Aileen than for their half-sister said enough.

“According to the nanny, the former duchess was a beauty with lovely golden hair. Then why is your hair silver, sister?”

Remembering the words Aileen had once said as a child, Violet—Yeon Ha-yoon—swallowed a self-deprecating laugh.

Now, none of it mattered. It had all lost its meaning.

The desire to be acknowledged by her family. The desire to be loved. The efforts to endure and survive in this hellish ducal household.

Memories of a past life had returned, and two personalities had intertwined.

The one standing here was Violet, yet not Violet; Yeon Ha-yoon, yet not Yeon Ha-yoon. So she decided to redraw her life.

—To escape from all this reality and imprison herself by her own will.

The first thing Violet did upon waking was go to her father in her nightclothes.

She had not yet recovered her body, and anyone could see how haggard she looked.

Despite her daughter’s sudden visit, the duke showed no particular reaction.

The refinement as a noble lady that had been instilled into her over nineteen years was no longer present. Only a blade-like silence filled the duke’s office.

Duke Everett, with his neatly combed black hair, looked at Violet with calm eyes. The emotion in those eyes was as cold as a frozen lake.

Had she lived her entire life seeing only such coldness?

She briefly pitied her own life. Losing her mother at a young age, and having a father so indifferent—could she truly say she had received any affection at all?

Why had she lived so desperately, craving the attention of people who would never look her way?

For days, the servants whispered that the young lady had finally gone mad. Violet snorted and ignored their murmurs.

Did you also wish for me to die?

If my life has no value or use, why did you spend such an astronomical sum to keep me alive?

Yeon Ha-yoon—Violet—smiled toward the duke, who did not spare her even a single glance.

“One question, Your Grace. Am I your daughter… or a tool?”

Drawing upon her innate elegance, she asked in a refined yet firm voice.

Violet’s question was abrupt and rude. It was an attitude that could not be excused even if Duke Everett raised his voice in anger.

However, instead of reprimanding her rudeness, the duke lifted his gaze and met her eyes, answering the question through that silent exchange.

Their eyes intertwined.

Deep violet eyes like a still lake, and green eyes accustomed to concealing their inner thoughts after a lifetime seated as duke.

The moment of mutual scrutiny was brief. Violet did not hesitate to ask again.

“Let me ask once more, Your Grace. Am I your daughter… or a tool?”

“…What is the meaning of this commotion?”

“After narrowly escaping death, my feelings have changed. I’ve found something I wish to do.”

Her tone was calm, almost serene.

If she let go of expectations, things were this easy. Why had she clung so stubbornly to the hope of being acknowledged by this family? Even value as a tool was still value.

Of course, it was a value Violet no longer needed.

The duke spoke after a heavy pause.

“What is it that you wish to do?”

“First, I would like to refuse all marriage proposals that come to me.”

“…Very well.”

The duke responded swiftly. Violet was slightly taken aback.

Could he discard her value as a tool so easily? Though her reputation was in ruins, her appearance was objectively quite excellent.

If he wished, she could still be used as a pawn in a political marriage—but the duke’s answer carried no hesitation.

Was she useful in some other way? Violet quickly regained her composure and continued.

“And secondly, I would like to draw.”

“…If you wish, I will assign you a tutor.”

“That won’t be necessary. I do not wish to learn it as a formal discipline, nor do I require a teacher. Providing the necessary materials will be sufficient.”

“….”

The duke gave no verbal reply, but Violet understood his silence as consent.

Was it such an easy request to grant? She tried to discern his intentions again.

Even combining the experience of her past and present lives, she could not match the duke’s age, and thus could not fully grasp his thoughts.

Her desire to draw had been almost impulsive. It was an impulse to reconnect with what remained of her past life, which had been completely erased.

No—more than that, she simply needed a place to escape. So she chose something familiar from her previous life.

Nothing more, nothing less.

Click. The duke’s hand paused briefly as he processed documents. Noticing that Violet had not yet left despite having finished her business, he spoke.

“You should return and rest. Your body has not yet fully recovered.”

“…Are you concerned about me?”

“That goes without saying.”

Ripples spread across the still lake.

Violet bit her lip and held her breath.

Even though she had barged in without manners, making unreasonable demands, the duke had never once reprimanded her.

He had simply granted her requests. Without question.

Ah… was it this easy all along?

Feeling hollow, Violet looked again at the duke, whose attitude toward his child was still lukewarm, and asked once more.

“…Father, am I truly your child?”

She asked a question she had never been able to voice her entire life. It was a question she could only ask now that she was no longer his daughter.

Even so, her voice trembled incessantly.

Had I ever received even a trace of your affection?

Meeting her wavering violet eyes, like rippling water, the duke answered in an even tone.

“You have never once not been my daughter.”

“….”

His voice was businesslike and detached. Yet for her, even that was overwhelming.

She could not stay here any longer. She would break. She might even show the tears she had so desperately tried to hide.

Biting the inside of her cheek, the woman forced back her tears and smiled—a fragile, fading smile that seemed ready to crumble at any moment.

Even though there had been such an easy way,

for what had Violet S. Everett lived so fiercely, becoming a villainess?

“…I’m relieved. I thought I would have no one on my side left.”

I assumed even you would hate me.

Swallowing the rest of her words, Violet smiled brightly.

“Then, as your daughter, I have one request to make of you.”

Not as a duke addressing a noble lady, but as a daughter asking her father. The duke lifted his eyes from the documents.

And when Violet’s next words followed, he could not help but doubt his ears.

“—Please imprison me.”

As expected, her request to be confined was refused. He had so easily agreed to cancel her marriage prospects, yet remained firm in refusing imprisonment.

The reasons were numerous. She still needed rest as she had not fully recovered. If the eldest daughter of the ducal house were confined, it would damage House Everett’s reputation.

Hearing the reasons for refusal, Violet snorted. Her reputation as a wicked woman was already widespread—how much further could it fall?

Meanwhile, numerous physicians came and went to examine her. Even a priest was summoned in case she had been possessed by an evil spirit. Calling a priest must have cost a great deal of money.

As expected, living with wealth was different. Violet lay on her bed, staring at the ceiling, and smiled.

Once her condition improved, Violet returned to the duke and again requested to be confined in a remote place.

The duke refused without even asking why, but eventually relented under her persistence.

Given the sheer number of misdeeds Violet had committed, no one among the servants found it strange that she was confined by the duke’s order.

The eldest son, Michael, raged and demanded to know her motives after learning the circumstances, but that was all.

On the tenth day since Violet S. Everett had fallen into the lake, she ceased all social activities and, with a modest amount of luggage, was confined to a shabby, neglected annex far from the main residence.