The Villainess Draws Pictures – Episode 12
When conviction and will go too far, they become stubbornness, and soon, obstinacy. When one abandons judgment and leaves discernment to the crowd, it becomes ignorance.
Xylo knew such a person well. Closing his eyes, he recalled the words Violet had spoken the very first time they met.
“Since there likely isn’t much for you knights to do here, if you have spare time, do as you please.”
Violet had spoken with a calm expression. Yet the meaning behind her words was different.
“Since you probably have no real intention of protecting me sincerely anyway, do whatever you want.”
That was what lay hidden beneath her words.
If one is blinded by prejudice and cannot believe even the facts before their eyes—if one denounces an ordinary person as a witch—how is the one suffering such malice supposed to live?
“Sir Vandel?”
“…Please draw your sword as well.”
For those who are irreverent, a beating is the answer.
Xylo had drawn his sword several times to admonish Alex’s impudence, but his disrespectful behavior did not easily come to an end. Even when Violet lived quietly, Alex suspected she was scheming something wicked, and he raged endlessly. All Xylo could do was sigh deeply.
What was he supposed to do with this fool? Reporting him to higher-ups would be a problem; not reporting him would also be a problem.
He had certainly been a serious man when he was in the knights’ order. Now Xylo spent more than half of each day beating Alex.
Alex refused to admit his mistakes. He refused to acknowledge his ignorance.
The stronger his belief, the more dangerous it would be for his sense of self if that belief were to collapse.
If one person alone was this exhausting, what would happen if everyone looked at her through such narrow-minded eyes?
Malicious rumors could ruin a person with ease.
For someone broken in that way to recover and smile again would require a long and arduous process.
In reality, Violet’s smile was detached to the point of emptiness. Even when she smiled, she seemed lonely.
Thinking of Violet, Xylo then recalled his future lord, Michael. Michael had always shown hostility toward Violet.
Strangely enough, that resembled Alex. Xylo, who had unconsciously thought that a commoner and a duke’s son were similar, quickly shook his head.
What he needed to focus on now was not such idle thoughts.
Meanwhile, Violet was already aware that Alex was spreading nonsense about her. She knew, yet she imposed no punishment. She simply smiled quietly, as if it were familiar—as if it were nothing unusual.
“…Honestly.”
“I will correct his misconduct.”
“He’s not entirely wrong, though. Why not just leave him be?”
Unlike the indignant Xylo, Violet had learned not to waste unnecessary emotions.
She did not bother reprimanding impudence or scolding others as a noble ought to. She had no desire to deal with those who disliked her.
“…I will correct it.”
The upright knight answered again. Even if Violet remained indifferent, as a knight of the ducal house he could not allow discipline to fall into disorder.
If duty and loyalty conflicted, one might disobey according to their beliefs—but Alex’s “justice” was not truly justice to begin with.
What Violet had done in the past, as a princess, may have been excessive. However, as a noble, those actions were appropriate and grounded in the law—punishments that were within her rightful authority.
Was it truly right to use that as a pretext to condemn her—no, to condemn a human being?
It was a truly meaningless question.
No matter how loudly Alex ranted, Violet ignored him and focused on her painting. Moreover, no one in this place sided with him.
The servants of the annex particularly disliked Alex, who showed hostility toward Violet.
As a result, he was naturally isolated within the annex. The more isolated he became, the more his hostility toward Violet burned—but that flame only consumed him.
On days when he trained with the knights of the main house, Alex would passionately spread rumors of Violet’s misdeeds. He even claimed that she had been confined to the annex while forming contracts with demons long thought extinct, and that she bewitched people through dark arts.
People sometimes unite by creating a common enemy. If that enemy poses no real threat to them, their imagination grows without restraint.
And so, as various stories about Violet circulated, time passed endlessly.
Violet began working on a new painting.
Her art still remained ahead of its time, enough to stir the hearts of those who viewed it.
Xylo found himself slightly agreeing with the only part of Alex’s claims—that Violet’s paintings were the work of a witch. Had she lived a few centuries earlier, she might have been remembered in history as a witch.
Even while she created works that stirred people’s minds, her daily life did not change much.
Violet continued to interact casually with the servants. She secretly enjoyed the chatter of the maids—not because she spoke much, but because she preferred listening.
She devoted long hours of the day to painting, and even more time to sleep.
Peaceful days.
Xylo now regularly accompanied Violet when she painted someone as a model. He had resigned himself to his role as a croquis model. With everyone gathered and chatting, the scene often resembled a picnic.
That day was no different. Marie had laid out a mat at Violet’s spot and prepared snacks. Eventually, Xylo ended up eating them as well.
“I’d like to observe muscles as well, if possible.”
“…I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that.”
“Oh, uncle! Are you well-built?”
“…I am not an ‘uncle.’”
“Marie, knights are quasi-nobles, so be careful with your words. Moreover, Sir Vandel is clearly from a noble family.”
“Oh! I’m sorry.”
“…It’s alright.”
Peaceful days continued—except for one person.
In the end, Alex was expelled from the annex.
“Expelled” might not be the perfect way to put it, but he no longer came to the annex, which was a relief for everyone, including Violet.
The one who removed Alex from the annex was the Duke of Everett.
Despite his busy schedule, the duke visited the annex at least once every two weeks.
There was no particular incident that led to Alex’s removal. Rather, unlike his behavior in front of Violet, he acted submissively in front of the duke—bowing before the strong and acting arrogantly toward the weak.
Nevertheless, he was demoted with a single word from the duke.
The reason was simple: his gaze was deemed disrespectful.
Alex did not dare object to the duke’s orders and was removed from the ducal knights, reassigned to a vassal family.
Xylo sighed briefly, thinking that if he had reported the matter sooner, another knight would have been sent instead of Alex. Had that happened, the duke might have dissolved the entire knight order for showing lax discipline toward their superior.
Violet paid no attention to those who held hostility toward her—including Alex. Of course, that indifference also extended to the duke.
Meetings between the duke and Violet were always simple: they would drink tea, exchange brief conversation, and then the duke would look at Violet’s paintings. The time he could spare was limited, and so were their activities within that time.
Xylo, who stood by their side, wore a weary expression as he watched the pair. Heron, the duke’s adjutant, also smiled at him with a look of camaraderie. Only Marie, already accustomed to their interactions, quietly followed Violet and attended to her needs.
“By the way… when will you send me your paintings?”
“…Do you really want them?”
“I do not speak empty words.”
“…We don’t have the personnel to send them separately.”
“I will send additional escorts tomorrow.”
“…Please don’t send more than one. I dislike complications.”
“…Very well.”
Listening to their conversation, Xylo recalled a day long past.
At one point, Michael had once complained bitterly that the duke favored Violet.
After the death of the duchess, the duke had not paid much attention to internal affairs of the estate. Michael had never heard of the duke treating Violet specially, so he had dismissed such rumors as mere sibling gossip.
Later, however, it turned out that the duke’s favoritism toward Violet was real. Indeed, the fact that she had committed those misdeeds yet faced no punishment was proof of that favoritism.
Whether that affection, closer to indifference, was truly affection—or something else entirely—was unknown.
Xylo looked again at the father and daughter before him. He unconsciously took a step back, overwhelmed by the duke’s peculiar taste in art and Violet’s firm demeanor.
Beside them, Heron smiled faintly—a smile tinged with melancholy, likely weighing the workload and inevitable overtime ahead.
The new escort sent by the duke was a taciturn man.
Sending another knight of commoner origin might have led to the same outcome as before. The duke instead sent someone from a trusted vassal family, similar to Xylo.
The new escort knight, Ozen, was so quiet that his thoughts were impossible to read. Violet did not bother to probe his intentions and simply left him be.
The servants of the annex did not ostracize the new knight, who kept to himself and caused no disturbance.
Regardless of any changes around her, Violet painted whenever she felt like it. In truth, she had no duties to perform—this was all she had to do.
“My body feels a bit stiff.”
“Isn’t that because you lie around all day and only paint? You should move your body occasionally!”
“….”
Violet was generally at peace, but sometimes unease crept in due to the overly tranquil nature of her life.
After all, a ducal estate was not a place of true peace. It stood directly beneath the Emperor, governing vast lands where politics unfolded within its walls.
Thus, tension was abundant, and incidents and accidents were never-ending.
