A Villainess pulled out the Sword instead of the Hero.

Chapter 66



Morgana pulled a new piece of stationery out of her bag and scribbled briskly.

 [I’d like you to add one to your VIP rewards. A small vial that can be attached to a necklace or piece of jewelry to carry around. Please keep the event on schedule. Also, if you happen to see Confucius, please let me know. Or if you can find me a wizard who can make one, I’d appreciate it!]

 

Glancing around, Morgana quickly pulled out a new piece of stationery.

 

This time, it was not addressed to Raon, but to Percival.

 [Percival, would you please ask your mother if you can get me a Moonwort that can only be counted at dawn on Mondays, and if so, as soon as possible? I’ll only need one. Please.]

 

The Moonwort only blooms at dawn, and as its name suggests, it has a specialty for the night.

 

‘To catch thieves.’

 

After carrying the herb around all day, anything touched by it will glow at dawn, leaving a mark where it was touched.

 

It would also stain the culprit’s hands, allowing them to be traced at dawn.

 

The only problem was that the moonwort itself was rarely seen because the conditions were so challenging.

 

Morgana folded the two letters on top of each other and placed them in the former’s mouth.

 

The bird waited patiently, eating the breadcrumbs, and then flew off to receive the letter.

 

In the original story, the maid didn’t just steal the shoes.

 

Morgana knew better than anyone what she had stolen. Reaching into her bag, Morgana pulled out a vial of herbs.

 

It was a bottle of dangerous herbs that she had secretly stashed away because Percival’s mother wouldn’t get them for him.

 

She slipped the vial into her pocket, relieved.

 

‘Thank goodness, I’m your maid.’

 

Nobody would give me a weird look if I casually walked around the room.

  

The next day, early in the morning, Guinevere’s chambers were lined with knights of the royal court.

 

Unlike the roving knights, the royal knights’ majesty was evident from their uniforms, which bore the seal of Britain.

 

‘Is someone high has come?’

 

Morgana asked, her eyes narrowing in disbelief.

 “It’s Morgana, a maid. May I help you?” 

Once their identities were confirmed, they opened the barred door and answered.

 “There was another thief in the Princess’s room during the night.” “Again? So the maid who was caught yesterday wasn’t a thief?” “We believe it was a group of thieves, not just one person.” 

Sobella doesn’t even have the option of not being the culprit. I feel a pang of sadness at the thought of her in the dungeon.

 

She was a coworker I’d cared about since the first day of the 

interview.

 

Even Deanna’s grumpiness was met with a direct word of justice. This punishment was too unfair.

 

‘Just wait, Sobella. I’ll clear your name in a moment.’

 

As I entered Guinevere’s room, I noticed that things were even more disorganized than yesterday.

 

Each chair was slightly out of alignment, and the curtains Morgana had tied yesterday were all untied and covering the windows.

 

The clock on the wall was tilted as if someone had tampered with it.

 

There was a hint of touching, but no sign of anything missing.

 

Guinevere sat down on the couch and ran a hand through her hair wildly.

 “I don’t know, I woke up, and it was like this.” “It’s because you’re so beautiful, my lady, that you should go outside and wave every so often.” 

The voice was uncharacteristically light for the situation.

 

At first glance, it sounded like amusement.

 

Amid the knights, Guinevere shrugged,

“At least they didn’t steal anything this time. It’s too much of a loss.” “It’s only a disaster if it falls harder.” “What, with all the waving and screaming when I pass by?” “Oh, that’s too low, you don’t just wave and yell, you should sign autographs.” 

Guinevere looked up at him, frowning at his arrogance.

 

Finally giving up, she flopped down on the couch in a heap and yelled, 

 “It’s just like my room is their garden, isn’t it? First assassination, then poisoning, now burglars, and now a perv looking at things.” 

Guinevere didn’t seem to think much of it.

 

In a way, the distribution was different. Morgana grabbed the hem of her skirt and stormed into the room, shouting.

 “Check your hands!” 

The knights standing before Guinevere turned their heads.

 

In the center of them was a tall man with pink hair swept neatly back over his forehead.

 

Long eyelashes and a pretty face. At first glance, one might have mistaken him for a woman.

 

‘Lancelot du Lac!’

 

 

If Avalon had a House of the Lake, it was the House of Lac, the only one in Britain, and the Lord of the House of Lac, the First Knight of the Royal Orders.

 

But he’s more famous for his flowery appearance. He was the sub-male lead of

Who Will Marry the Princess?

 

He smiles at her when he sees her for the first time, and does fanservice.

 “What about your hand? Are you looking over it because you don’t have a ring? I’m sorry, but I’ve given my heart to Britain.” 

A lighthearted remark!

 

Morgana clenched her outstretched hand tightly.

 “If you don’t mind, could you please put that watch down for a moment?” 

The timepiece hung high on the wall, out of reach, requiring Morgana to climb over a chair.

 

In lined up with her heart, she would have just stepped on the chair, but she was afraid of touching the wrong thing and getting the wrong idea, so she asked the knights.

 

Blinking at the implications for a moment, Lancelot reached for the watch. His fingertips dug in, just barely, and a small spark flew.

 “Huh?” 

It was just a tingle. It wasn’t powerful.

 

When the herb was rubbed on an object, it created a static charge with every touch.

 

It was a one-time thing, not very powerful except the first time.

 

Now, a mild static charge.

 

‘That means someone touched the watch first.’

 

Lancelot pulled a glove from his inside pocket and snatched the watch with one swift motion.

 

Tossing the watch and glove to the knight standing beside him, he smirked and asked,

“Your maid knows a little something, doesn’t she?” “Not that I know of, but I’ve been worried since yesterday’s shoe theft, so I’ve been putting herbs on expensive-looking things.” “Herbs?” 

Apparently, herbs were still unfamiliar to most people.

 

Lancelot tilted his head curiously and glanced at the clock.

 “Wow, the herbal remedy has such an effect. Where did you get it?” “At the herbal shop that recently opened in the capital!” “Oh, I’ve heard of it, but I didn’t know they sold it.” 

They don’t know. It’s not for sale.

 

In the first place, Tir na Nog never sold any herbs that could harm anyone.

 

We don’t want to get caught up in assassinations for distributing dangerous herbs. I didn’t want to shorten lives.

 

But what’s wrong with looking like a loyal maid at the palace?

 “It must have worked.” 

Morgana gripped the empty vial tightly, admiring it with a tone that said she knew nothing.

 

‘That’s how you go viral.’

 

There’s nothing like seeing firsthand reviews from buyers right in front of you, straight from the royal palace.

 

Guinevere’s golden eyes twinkled as she answered Lancelot’s questions with a dryness that belied her curiosity about herbs.

 “So, Morgana, do you have herbs for other things besides this?” “Of course!” 

The thief aimed for the clock, as he had in the original. She had applied it to the other items, hoping her intervention would make a difference.

 

‘The items are unchanged.’

 

The watch, of course, was one of the more expensive items.

 

Diamonds on the hour and minute hands.

 

From rubies to sapphires to emeralds, each of the twelve numbers was studded with a gemstone, as if to mark the moment from blue sky to sunset.

 

A watch with the number 12 on it would not be wasted on a regular person.

 

It was basically an item of craftsmanship.

 

Even the frame was made of gold, so it was luxurious even from a distance.

 

‘Although the Princess’s room is so gorgeous that it’s less noticeable than I thought.’

 

That made it even stranger.

 

‘Even if they stole the shoes or anything else, why would they come into the room and target the clock?’

 

If money was the goal, jewelry was everywhere.

 

On the dressing table was a ruby-encrusted box of gifted accessories, a vase that Guinevere had promised to give me.

 

The crystal jewelry statue on the nightstand.

 

Anything and everything was worth stealing.

 

But to call him a common thief would be an understatement, he hadn’t touched any of the other items.

 

Only the clock.

 


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