The Villainess Draws Pictures – Episode 11
In any case, the dispatched knights eventually found themselves living a leisurely routine, following Violet’s instructions, as the peaceful days continued to the point that their initial worries and concerns felt meaningless.
When they had spare time, they would help the servants of the annex with their duties. Whatever the knights might have thought, the servants were simply pleased to have two strong men assisting with the work.
On the other hand, Zilo’s suspicions deepened as he interacted with them.
It was indeed strange how all the servants—including Violet’s personal maid—showed such goodwill toward her.
Perhaps she had been shocked after being abandoned by the family she trusted. Or maybe she had changed her ways after nearly losing her life. Zilo entertained various guesses as he observed Violet living quietly. In the end, without hearing an explanation directly from her, such speculation was meaningless anyway.
Violet, in particular, had grown close to her personal maid. Unlike how she responded to others with polite, measured replies, her expressions when dealing with the girl carried genuine warmth.
“Miss, if you keep skipping meals like that, you’ll get sick!”
“I already had breakfast and lunch. I don’t have much of an appetite for dinner.”
“You still need something light at least… I’ll ask the kitchen for some soup and a salad.”
“…Do as you like.”
She smiled normally, and expressed irritation at a normal level. Quite unlike the “villainess” described in rumors.
No—at that level, the title of villainess aside, she hardly resembled the image of a noble duke’s daughter at all.
Zilo seriously wondered if a demon that had been lurking in the lake had taken over the young lady’s body and was impersonating her. Alec, for his part, claimed that Violet was possessed by a demon.
As time passed during which they observed whether she was a harmful person or not, they—no, Zilo—no longer remained wary of Violet.
Instead, they devoted themselves fully to training, determined not to fall behind the knights of the main estate.
And then—
“…What are you doing?”
“Croquis.”
“That’s not what I asked—”
“Oh, I see you’re unfamiliar with croquis. It refers to the act of quickly sketching objects or people within a short time in order to improve one’s drawing skills.”
“….”
He had ended up becoming Violet’s model.
Zilo was once again thrown into confusion. Was the young lady always this kind of person? It was far too different from the image described by the young master…
Lost in thought, Zilo set down his sword.
As Zilo had suspected, she was not a demon. Instead, Violet—having regained memories of her past life—casually continued moving her pencil.
“…I was ordered by the Duke to come here to protect you.”
“I know.”
“…I did not come here to become a model.”
“I’m sure you didn’t. Ah, if you’re going to train anyway, could you wear thin clothing? It makes it easier to observe the shape of the clothing.”
“….”
Such behavior was shameless, befitting the label of “villainess.” Her attitude of brushing off refusals carried the arrogance of a great noble—an arrogance rooted in knowing the other party could not refuse.
Her previously gentle demeanor had not been limited to the servants alone. The young knight, realizing he had momentarily let his guard down, suppressed his rising temper.
If he were to act recklessly in front of the young lady, he might even lose his qualification as a knight.
“Let me repeat—I was sent here by the Duke.”
“I understand. And I also know you have no intention of serving or protecting me.”
“….”
“There’s no need to force yourself to serve someone you dislike just because of an order. Ah, but please bear with being my model for a bit. As you know, there aren’t many adult men with sturdy builds around here.”
At Violet’s calm words, Zilo stared at her blankly.
Meeting his gaze, Violet simply shrugged.
“…Why me, of all people?”
“Sir Hanson had rather disrespectful eyes. The kind that seemed like he wouldn’t hesitate to defy me if he believed it was in the name of justice. Ah, or perhaps it’s more accurate to say he lacks discernment. His gaze is similar to that of a certain fool somewhere.”
Violet assessed him. Upon realizing that the comparison was directed at Michael, Zilo clenched his teeth. He struggled with the urge to gouge out his own eyes, wondering if his own gaze might also be disrespectful.
More than anything, what she was saying now were not things one should speak so casually.
What if Alec had been in this room instead? He might have openly defied the young lady. It was an entirely plausible scenario.
Though she spoke as if it were trivial, this was a serious issue. It meant that the hierarchy had collapsed, as had the discipline of the duke’s household and the values upheld by its vassals and knights.
And this laxity applied to Zilo as well.
“…I will make sure to keep him in check.”
One must separate personal feelings from duty. Even if his gaze was filled with prejudice, he could still maintain proper judgment. For that, at least, he was grateful.
At the knight’s measured response, Violet smiled.
After that, Zilo returned to his training with renewed focus. Watching him repeat basic sword techniques and stances over and over, Violet rested her chin on her hand.
Since he had not firmly refused to be used as a model, it would be fine to continue drawing him.
“Sir.”
“….”
“You were likely sent here against your will by the Duke. I’ve heard you’re a knight of high reputation, so it’s unfortunate that you’re spending your time guarding me in a place like this.”
Violet spoke to herself. Her voice was as dry as a desert. When she said “unfortunate,” her tone carried genuine feeling.
Shouldn’t she be happy to receive the protection of such a skilled knight? It meant she had not yet been abandoned by Everett.
Yet, Violet Everett seemed to belittle her own worth from the very first day they met.
Zilo found himself swallowing his words again and again in front of her.
“Lady…”
“You can speak more casually.”
“Do you address the Duke as ‘Your Grace’?”
Sensing the intent behind his question, Violet smiled softly. She stopped moving her pencil, stretched leisurely, and replied with a hint of amusement.
“Well, because he is Your Grace.”
It was a neat answer.
Feeling a sense of incongruity wrap around him, Zilo remained silent. Their eyes briefly met, and her gaze curved slightly.
Silvery hair flowing gently, violet eyes as still as a lake.
The person standing before him was, indeed, just a person. Not the villainess of Everett, nor a witch with a frozen heart—just a 19-year-old woman who had never once been acknowledged by her family.
“It’s about lunchtime. Will you continue training?”
“….”
“Oh, you usually eat at the main estate, don’t you? Training while skipping meals isn’t good for your body.”
“…My duty is to guard you.”
“As you wish.”
You don’t have to call me “lady,” you know. As Violet’s faint murmur faded, Zilo adjusted his grip on his sword.
After some time had passed, the dispatched knight was finally able to peel away a layer of his prejudice toward Violet.
The Violet he encountered in person was a simple, unadorned individual.
First of all, she did not have a strong appetite. It was not for the sake of maintaining her figure—she simply did not enjoy the taste of food. As a result, the lavish meals prepared for her were always shared among the servants of the annex.
Her clothing was also plain. She wore only worn dresses that could withstand paint splatters.
In addition, Violet slept quite a lot, often troubling the maid who stayed by her side. In many ways, she seemed far removed from a great noble—lazy, even.
She was nothing like the rumored villainess—just a pitiable young girl.
There had already been rumors within the ducal estate that Violet had requested to be confined of her own will.
Why would a woman born into a noble house throw away her position and lock herself away in a corner?
Most dismissed it as baseless gossip. Zilo had once thought the same. But after meeting Violet in person, he was convinced the rumor was true.
She possessed a strange composure that a young lady abandoned by her family should not have.
Each time Zilo met her, he felt a disconnect between the “young lady” of rumor and the Violet before him.
And then—
“She must have been bewitched by a witch!”
“…Speak sense.”
“But you must know as well! The people here have definitely been bewitched by a witch. Without a doubt.”
Alec’s attitude had gone beyond impertinent—it bordered on outright insolent. In that moment, Zilo began to understand, in part, why Violet had come to be called a “villainess.”
Regardless of the reason, if she ordered punishment, it would be seen as cruelty. And she likely had neither the time nor inclination to graciously forgive the mistakes of her subordinates. Even if she did, could such leniency ever be perceived as virtue?
It would only undermine her authority.
Alec Hanson, a knight of common birth who had risen to a position in the order purely through his skill, possessed undeniable ability. However, his sense of justice was so rigid that he refused to even listen to those he deemed evil.
“…Isn’t it obvious? All the things that witch has done are right there for everyone to see, yet she’s laughing and living happily like that? And I heard Lady Aileen is still crying back at the castle…”
In the end, his ability was the only thing that stood out.
Rubbing his forehead as Alec’s shouting pounded in his head, Zilo sighed.
What would happen if Violet were to hear such disrespectful remarks? As rumored, she might very well order, “Cut his tendons, strike him thirty times, and throw him out onto the street.”
Of course, such an order would be so reasonable that no one could object to it or blame the issuer.
No—most nobles would act that way. But if Violet did, she would not escape criticism.
“Is that the kind of witch you think the young lady is?”
“Exactly! It’s all the witch’s trickery! Sir Vendel, you haven’t even seen the paintings said to be drawn by the witch. She must have used some kind of sinister sorcery.”
