I Became the Mastermind Who Betrays the Heroines

[Translator - Peptobismol]

[Proofreader - Demon God]

Chapter 95 – The Rose (7)

A week had passed.

I remained in the palace, continuing to act as the attending physician.

Though I wondered if it was too long to be absent from the Academy, there was no need to worry.

I had already asked Professor Selena for her support in advance.

This was precisely why I had secured the position of head assistant in the first place.

—You’re saying you’ll be away for a while?

—I won’t say it’s unacceptable, but… it’s becoming a frequent occurrence lately, and that’s concerning.

—You mustn’t neglect your duties as a student.

—I won’t pry into the reasons for your absences. Our relationship was established on those terms from the beginning, after all.

—Just remember to be careful. That’s the only advice I’ll give.

Getting her approval wasn’t difficult.

For a teacher, she might’ve been curious about a disciple who constantly wandered off, yet Selena never asked a single question.

She simply allowed me to act as I pleased.

Choosing her as my mentor had clearly been a wise decision.

If it had been one of Gallimard’s other professors, they’d have been hell-bent on controlling my every move.

Reflecting on it now, I felt immense relief.

‘Thanks to that, I have some breathing room.’

It allowed me to devote myself fully to my work here.

Over the past week, I had been working on two main tasks.

The first was, of course, treating the Rose.

The second was gradually taming the Little Prince.

Given the trajectory of future events, both were necessary steps.

Since both required patience and time, I approached them carefully, inching closer to each of them little by little.

Of course, progress didn’t come easily at first.

—I told you to leave.

—I don’t want your treatment. Don’t touch me.

—Just let me die.

Elise, in particular, was a challenge.

Though her older sister was beginning to open up, Elise remained cold and distant, always responding with icy words.

If anything, she seemed to grow sharper over time.

Even as her physical condition visibly improved, she resisted acknowledging it, lashing out every time I treated her.

As a result, I spent hours dealing with her each day.

—Ugh… you disgusting bastard.

—To think you’d dare treat a princess of this empire like this… huff… Do you think you’ll get away with it?

—I’ll kill you. I’ll definitely kill you.

Whenever my careful hands brushed against her pale skin, her glassy green eyes burned with defiance.

Through those empty pupils, a shattered hostility radiated faintly.

Her labored breaths quickened, and her crimson hair, damp with sweat, clung to her skin, filling the air with a faint, sticky heat.

By the time her strength was spent, she lay limp, exhaustion etched into her face.

In her hollow gaze, resentment always lingered.

—Die.

Even if it seemed like she hated me, I had no intention of letting her go.

If I gave up now, there would be no chance of saving her at all.

The Rose’s death would inevitably lead to the Little Prince’s tragedy.

So, despite being pricked by her sharp thorns, I continued to caress her crimson petals with delicate care, always wearing a smile.

—You’ll get used to it soon.

—Stop overthinking, let go of despair, and focus solely on recovering.

—I’ll be here to help you. Even if you don’t want me to be.

Taming something doesn’t happen overnight.

It requires long observation, consistent care, and infinite patience to make a flower bloom.

This was that stage—the stage where meaning wasn’t yet found, but where meaning was planted.

Patience was a necessity.

‘Of course.’

That didn’t mean there wasn’t any progress.

Though the Rose still raised her thorns, the Little Prince, on the other hand, was steadily coming over to my side.

Charlotte expressed her gratitude every day.

—The attacks are happening less often now.

—Her complexion seems to be improving.

—Yes… it’s all thanks to you.

—You’ve helped us so much. Only you can save us.

The effects of repetition were starting to show.

Every time Elise fell asleep after her treatment, Charlotte and I spent about two hours alone in the adjacent room.

Officially, these meetings were to discuss Elise’s progress.

In reality, they were a way to build trust by spending time together.

I whispered to her at every opportunity.

—Your Highness, there’s nothing to worry about.

—All you need to do is leave everything to me and wait patiently.

—I’ll handle everything for you.

It was a deliberate assertion of absolute reliance.

At first, Charlotte hesitated, but now, she would nod blankly in response.

Perhaps it was because I was the only visible hope she had.

Each day, as she watched her sister’s improving complexion, she had no choice but to listen to the voice at her ear.

Maybe she didn’t want to risk missing this chance.

—I’ll follow your lead.

Her unfocused blue eyes trembled with uncertainty.

When that wavering light appeared, I reassured her by gently patting her head.

The princess made no effort to brush away the Snake’s touch.

Instead, she slowly accepted the coolness of it, allowing the distance between them to close.

Each time, I smiled in satisfaction.

‘Things are going smoothly.’

It was all part of a long-term plan.

The more Charlotte relied on me, the easier it would be to use her later.

High status always proves useful.

As the Rose’s condition improved, the foundation of trust was steadily laid.

‘Charlotte… and Elise.’

At some point, I had become a fixture in their daily lives.

***

Late evening.

The once-bright scenery outside the window was now cloaked in darkness. @@novelbin@@

Having finished yet another lengthy treatment session, I was tidying up the room, which had fallen into disarray.

The bed where the Rose lay was, as always, a mess.

“Haah… haah…”

Her breath came in shallow, heated gasps.

Her crimson hair, damp with sweat, lay tangled across the sheets.

Perhaps due to her particularly fierce resistance today, her disheveled blouse had slipped off entirely, leaving her bare skin exposed.

With no undergarments beneath, she was practically nude.

The thin blanket barely covered her, concealing only the tips of her soft curves.

The faint, sticky scent of her skin lingered in the air.

“Haah… ngh.”

“You’ve worked hard.”

I addressed the exhausted girl.

It was the phrase I used to mark the end of treatment.

As I withdrew my hand from her abdomen, a weak whimper escaped her pale lips—a sound she couldn’t suppress.

“Ugh.”

Five hours of treatment.

Her belly, repeatedly pressed and kneaded, now bore distinct handprints.

Elise flinched, her body trembling faintly as she lay there.

“…”

Her bound limbs couldn’t move.

She seemed to have no strength left.

Even her pale lips appeared drained of blood.

Only her green eyes remained, staring up at me.

Though her gaze glimmered with unshed tears, the resentment in her eyes was unmistakable.

I returned her glare with a bright, cheerful smile.

‘I wonder how much longer you’ll react like this.’

Surely, she should’ve started adjusting by now.

Snapping my fingers lightly.

Snap!

With a soft sound, the chaotic scene instantly restored itself.

The sweat-soaked sheets straightened out, and her exposed figure was covered once again.

I silently observed the now-covered Rose.

“I’ll check again today.”

Reaching out, I lifted her arm, still bound in place.

Pushing up her sleeve, I revealed thick bandages wrapped tightly around her wrist.

Gingerly, I began to unwrap them.

Swish.

The bandages unraveled with ease.

Beneath them, scars crisscrossed her pale skin like jagged lines.

It seemed she had taken a blade to herself again.

New cuts, absent the day before, now marred her wrist.

I sighed softly, unsurprised.

“Your Highness.”

“What.”

“I’ve told you before—this is a terrible habit.”

“What does it matter to you?”

Self-inflicted wounds.

While they might temporarily relieve the pain of her turbulent mana, they did nothing to aid in her recovery.

Despite my warnings, she couldn’t stop.

“…It hurt too much last night.”

“That’s no excuse. If it was so painful, you should’ve called for me.”

Taking a salve from the shelf, I applied it to her wrist.

She turned her head away, her indifferent gaze suggesting she couldn’t care less about the wound.

“It doesn’t sting that much.”

Her apathy toward her own recovery was evident.

Suppressing my bitterness, I asked the question I’d been holding back.

“Do you truly not believe in hope, Your Highness?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

In the week I had observed her, it became clear—she was like a flower broken by storms.

A misfortune so relentless, she had been trampled to the point of no return.

Elise had resigned herself to life, utterly defeated.

After more than ten years of battling illness in this dark room, her heart had been filled with an irreversible despair.

The faded light in her weary eyes was proof of that time.

The Rose no longer seemed to believe in hope.

“You must be mistaken… Whether you cure this illness or not, I couldn’t care less.”

[Translator - Peptobismol]

[Proofreader - Demon God]