My Next Life as a Villainess: All Routes Lead to Doom! Volume 5

by Satoru Yamaguchi

  “So what? This isn’t your home! You’re at the academy!”

  She laughed in response, and all I could do was sigh at this helpless girl.

  “Don’t worry! Even from up here, there’s no one in sight. And the view is fantastic! Why don’t you come up too?” she said while playfully gesturing for me to come to her.

  Climbing a tree in the academy was absolutely unthinkable. But today — maybe because of Katarina’s influence — my self-control wasn’t quite working.

  I’m already barefoot, and if it’s just a little bit... just a couple of branches... were my unusually unrestrained thoughts.

  And so, for the first time in eight years, I climbed up a tree. The memory of my climbing competition with Katarina in her garden was embarrassing but nostalgic at the same time. After that (as is the norm for any self-respecting noble), I had never even thought of going up a tree again. Despite this, muscle memory helped me reach the same height as Katarina relatively quickly.

  I sat next to her, and she welcomed me with a smile. If we still were kids we probably could have sat on the same branch, but considering how much heavier we were now, I chose another one nearby.

  I looked down at the courtyard, which looked nothing like it normally did. It was larger and more beautiful than I thought it was, shiny with its sunlit grass. Back when I first climbed on top of that tree in the Claes garden, I felt exactly the same as I did right now, after all these years. When you look at it from a new perspective, the world can be so different.

  “Isn’t it beautiful?”

  “...Yeah, it is,” I replied to Katarina.

  “I told you!” she boasted with an innocent but prideful smile.

  I felt a pounding inside my chest. A year had passed since I’d recognized what my true feelings for her were. I’d probably been in love with her for much longer, but was too dense to realize it.

  Even then, with my twin being engaged to her, what could I do? I had to forget about her... which was easier said than done. Her smile was enough to send my heart racing.

  “The wind feels so good, too!”

  Just there, easily within my grasp, I could see them: her carefree smile, her eyes glowing with happiness. But I couldn’t move my arm... I couldn’t bring myself to close that last tiny distance keeping us apart.

  I was resolved not to tell Katarina about how I felt about her, forcing all romantic feelings out of my mind so that one day in the not-so-distant future I could congratulate her on her marriage to my brother.

  I knew painfully well that I couldn’t make her mine, but then... why? Why did I find myself hoping that this moment, shared between the two of us, could last forever?

  But time is bound to pass and take with it my vain delusions. We couldn’t stay on this tree forever. What if someone saw us?

  I reluctantly started climbing down, with the intention of helping Katarina’s descent once I was on the ground... But I had forgotten about how she was dressed today.

  “Wait! Stop!” I shouted at her from below as she started moving towards a lower branch.

  I hadn’t really thought about it when we were sitting together, but she was wearing a dress. And now, from this angle... I could see right up her skirt.

  “I said stop! I can see up your skirt!” I shouted again, unsure if I should focus on decorum or helping Katarina — whose clothes made it hard to move — to the ground.

  “Oh, don’t worry, I’m wearing trousers underneath,” she said, noticing my distress and lifting her skirt.

  She was definitely wearing something underneath her skirt, but it barely counted as trousers! It was so short that I could clearly see most of her thighs! The view of her bare legs made my face turn red and my heart throb uncontrollably.

  I somehow helped Katarina, whose descent was so practiced that she hardly needed any help anyway, down from the tree. Then, still blushing, I shouted at her. “You’re not a kid anymore! Learn some decency!”

  Her reaction reminded me of a puppy who doesn’t understand why it’s being scolded, but still looks up at its master. I gave up and sighed.

  My oblivious friend and I went back to the dormitory, and thus ended my afternoon of bliss.

  The only thing that was left to me after those few hours was the image of her legs burnt into my eyes. A souvenir that would definitely keep me up at night...

  Chapter 4: A Lady for Nicol

  As the only son of Count Ascart, after graduating from the Academy of Magic, I, Nicol, had to prepare to succeed my father while helping him with his work. He had taught me most of the important things, and my education as future count was proceeding perfectly... except for one thing.

  Despite having reached my 18th birthday, I still had no fiancée. This was a problem because I required a wife in order to become the new head of the Ascart family. Most nobles enter their engagements around the time of their social debut, and it was rare for them to wait this long.

  It was not that I had trouble finding candidates; there were a considerable number of ladies who would fancy becoming my wife. But the source of the problem was none other than my indecisive self.

  My hesitation was rooted in my unrequited feelings for Katarina, friend of my younger sister and fiancée of my childhood friend Prince Jeord.

  I first met her when accompanying my sister Sophia to the Claes manor, where I fell in love with her beautiful eyes and innocent smile. The more time I spent around her, the stronger my feelings became. But I could not make any advances towards her, because she was still the fiancée of my own friend — who actually loved her passionately.

  My dear sister had realized how I felt towards Katarina, and, as expected of her, suggested that I make a move. I did not know whether to label Sophia as courageous or reckless. I tried to explain to her why I could do no such thing, but she would rebut my logic on the basis that “stealing love interests is the next big thing.” She would then corroborate her theory by recommending a series of books to me, whose titles, always including words such as “stolen love,” “betrayal,” and “romantic schemes,” caused me some concern.

  That is why I was still unengaged, bound by a love that I must keep secret.

  My parents as well, be it because they had noticed my feelings or because of their leisurely personalities, had not felt the need to pressure me into any matchmaking meeting, as would be the standard for a nobleman of my age.

  However, after my social debut and my graduation from the academy, as more and more people began questioning me about my fiancée whenever I was out with Father, he and Mother began feeling anxious over the situation. Among the nobles I had met during official Ascart affairs, some, despite being no older than I, already had a family and even children of their own.

  I realized that I could not eternally wallow in my forbidden love and started taking the matter of engagement seriously. I asked Father to make arrangements: I wanted to meet any lady who was suitable to marry into a count’s family and who would agree to becoming my wife.

  “...Are you sure about this?” asked Father with a vexed expression.

  I took this as evidence that my parents did know about my love for Katarina after all. But I had made up my mind.

  “Yes. I am sure,” I replied with determination.

  A few days after I had talked about it with Father, the first few meetings with ladies had already been decided.

  “You’re so popular that picking out a candidate was the hardest part!”

  He said that half-jokingly, but I was relieved in finding that there were still any candidates at all. He found some potential fiancées and arranged the time and date for when we should meet — to my utmost gratitude.

  I finally met the first one. A cute, collected girl, who greeted me... and then froze, red-faced.

  What am I supposed to do now?

  This was not even the first time that something like this had happened. Every once in a while, I would meet someone who would react in that way upon seeing my face. Normall
y I would borrow the help of one of my friends better versed in conversation than I... but today, I was alone.

  I must do something. Why am I such a terribly poor speaker?

  I have no issue talking about work or reciting lines in official settings, but chatting in private, and with a girl no less, was completely different and much more difficult. The both of us were standing in silence in front of each other, unable to say anything.

  Perhaps I should have had some other acquaintance accompany me today... The servants are still in the room, in a faraway corner where they cannot hear us... but they would never enter our conversation.

  My friends, knowing how bad I am at casual chatting, usually took the lead and provided the topics so that we wouldn’t fall into silence. Katarina, especially, had the widest array of subject matters. She could turn any trivial matter into something interesting, and just looking at her speaking passionately was enough to make me happy.

  If only she were here... I thought for a moment before reprimanding myself. The whole point of these meetings was to forget Katarina and move forward. What was I doing, still thinking of her?

  I mustered all of my determination and stared the girl in front of me in the eyes. She blushed even redder and even started trembling ever so slightly. Was she not feeling well? More than once, when she was still a child, Sophia had looked like that because of a fever.

  I started worrying about the girl and stood up from my seat to walk closer to her. “Are you alright?”

  She nodded in silence, but her face had gone from rosy to pure scarlet. It looked like a fever, and a rather bad one at that. I raised my hand and placed it on her forehead. It wasn’t as hot as I had expected, but warm nonetheless.

  I realized what I had just done, and— Curses! I was so worried about her that I neglected my manners. I measured her fever as I would have done to my sister, but touching a lady without permission is inadmissible for a man.

  I apologized at once. “I am very sorry. I should n...”

  She interrupted my sentence, not by speaking herself but by loudly falling backwards, bringing her chair with her. This surprised me, but I still somehow managed to catch her in my arms before she reached the ground.

  “A-Are you alright?”

  Convinced that the girl was not feeling well, I tried to get a better look at her face while still holding onto her.

  “...yeee...”

  Her weird moan was quickly followed by her losing consciousness and starting to bleed from her nose.

  Did the fever get that much worse? I must bring her to the doctor!

  I brought the girl into another room so that she could be examined by the doctor, who, luckily, did not find anything wrong with her.

  However, when she regained her senses, the girl went back to her home with the speed of someone running away from danger. Before I could make any decision, she had already refused me. Apparently the reason was: “I can’t meet with him again, it’s too embarrassing.”

  And so ended my first matchmaking meeting, in which I learned just how difficult finding a fiancée could be.

  My first matchmaking meeting was less than a success, but I decided that I would do my best in one of the others that Father had already scheduled for me.

  The next lady I would meet was a meek, calm-looking girl. She managed an elegant, well-rehearsed greeting without showing signs of blushing or freezing up like the one before her had. She also took the lead in conversation, so that we wouldn’t have to endure any awkward silence.

  We talked about the ball she had attended a few days ago, about tea parties, and more — or rather, she talked while I nodded and gave an occasional remark, as that was what my speaking skills amounted to, but I felt like the meeting was going well nonetheless.

  She was an almost stereotypical noble lady. She had well-groomed hair, fair skin, and the unblemished hands of someone who had never worked a day in her life.

  Nothing like Katarina, whose skin had been made quite a few shades darker by working in the fields, and whose hair was often carelessly shoved into a bandana. Handling the hoe had also made her palms tougher than those of the average lady.

  And yet, she was so endearing...

  No! Stop thinking of her! Concentrate on the girl who’s right in front of you!

  “And the couple dancing at the ball was so wonderful!” said the girl right in front of me, whose enthusiasm I only half-heartedly returned with, “I see... wonderful...”

  A normal lady, during a ball, turned her attention to things like these. Katarina, on the other hand, only had eyes for the buffet and its meats, salads, and desserts. She would describe the dishes with so much passion that one couldn’t help wanting to try them out.

  ...I’m thinking of Katarina again! To no fault of the potential fiancée in front of me, I found myself comparing her to Katarina again and again.

  My second trial date was over, and, while it had gone better than the first, my inability to focus on the lady in front of me left me feeling guilty. Despite not receiving an outright refusal of any further meeting, I did not feel particularly motivated to initiate one myself.

  Two more ladies came after the first two... but with similar results. I couldn’t focus on them as much as I dwelled on the differences they had with Katarina, who monopolized all my thoughts and interest.

  While I was torn between the anxiety of having to find a spouse and the dread of withstanding another unfruitful encounter, something happened. Katarina’s brother, Keith, went missing.

  Always one to leap before she looked, she set off to find him, accompanied by Jeord. My determination to leave that love behind me faltered as I found that the thought of Katarina traveling with her fiancé — not just the two of them, but still! — made me uncomfortable. I was likewise relieved when, coming back successfully from their quest, the two seemed not to be any closer than they had been before departing.

  At this rate, will I ever be able to marry?

  Dubious as ever, I walked into the fifth and last matchmaking meeting that Father had arranged.

  When I entered the room, she was already sitting there, waiting for me.

  This surprised me, not only because this had never been the case in the previous four meetings, but also because, as I had heard, men were expected to be the ones waiting for the other party to show up in meetings like these.

  But the differences did not end there. The girl who stood up to greet me once I entered the room gave off a strong, resilient impression — a stark contrast with the timid, subdued aura of the ladies I had met so far. If I had to compare her to one of my female acquaintances, I would say that she resembled Mary Hunt.

  Right after we exchanged the expected greetings, she followed with a startling line. “Do not worry, Master Ascart. I have no intention of marrying anyone. I only came here because my father insisted I do.”

  I was baffled by what she said and by the way she said it, wearing the lukewarm smile of someone commenting about the weather. As I froze in shock, she relaxed by sipping on the tea that had been prepared for us on the table.

  “You said not to worry... I understand that you are not serious about this meeting, but... why would that keep me from worrying?” I finally asked her after the shock subsided.

  “But of course, because you too have no intention of marrying, it would seem.”

  “...Why?” I questioned her abruptly, puzzled by her matter-of-fact words. Did I look uninterested? That couldn’t be. After all, I had personally asked for the meetings to be arranged so that I could find a fiancée.

  “I have heard from those you met before me. They all said that you did not look excited about the meetings themselves, and that, when they were over, you never asked for a second one.”

  “...”

  I had no idea I had given them that impression... but it makes sense. After all, I spent more time thinking of Katarina than of the girls sitting in front of me.

  “Was that not on purpose?” she asked,
in response to my apparent confusion.

  “...Indeed not. I attended the meetings willingly and eagerly, or at least I told myself as much.”

  “Women are much more perceptive than you may give them credit for. They would have no trouble telling whether or not you were truly interested.”

  I see. Women are perceptive enough to see that I still have mixed feelings about this. But if so...

  “Will I ever be able to marry at this rate?”

  The words burst out of my mouth. I would normally never have let my tongue slip like that in front of someone I had just met... I must have been tired.

  As I fell into an awkward silence, she looked at me with a newfound light in her eyes, which suggested a keen interest that had not been there until now.

  “What do you mean by that?” she asked.

  And so I, persuaded by her look of curiosity, ended up explaining my romantic troubles to someone I had just met. I did not tell her the name of my heroine, but I told her of how I had loved her for years despite her engagement to another man, and of how I am trying to move on and marry someone else, as is expected of me.

  Admitting to something like this during a matchmaking meeting would normally be unthinkable, but I had been lamenting it alone, unable to disclose my secret romantic feelings to any of my friends. Maybe I had always waited for someone whom I could tell my story to.

  While I spoke, she looked at me with a serious, thoughtful expression until I finished. Then she asked me, “Why would you have to give up?”

  Her candid expression and unexpected question made me freeze in place once again, but she did not stop there.

  “She is only engaged to another man... What of it? Or do they actually love each other?”

  Only...? This girl is truly something.

  “...Well, her fiancé does love her passionately.”

  “But what about her? Does she love him?”

  “...I do not think she does, at least for now.”

  “I see, so your rival’s love is unrequited. If so, then where is the problem? Just go and take her from him!”