The Evil Woman I Served for 13 Years Is Very Regretful

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The young lady was crying.

From her large eyes came tears like a late summer rain, dropping heavily onto the wardrobe floor.

"It's not, not from falling over…!"

Cornered in the small closet, like a drenched mouse, she wept pitifully. I wanted to say something to her, but my lips refused to part.

If I opened my mouth now, I feared I might spew the same lies as before.

The young lady said to me, standing there awkwardly,

"How could this be from falling over…!"

Her doubts poured out just as incessantly as her tears, which resembled chicken droppings. Angrily wiping away the relentless flow of tears with her sleeve, the angry and pitiful lady, smeared with tears and snot, refused to stop as she vented her resentment at me.

Once more, the young lady said to me,

"I'm not a fool to be deceived…"

I knew it too. That the young lady couldn't be fooled by such lies. It was a reflexive excuse I made in shock, and even I wouldn't believe such an obvious lie.

But one thing was certain.

I had revealed the scars I had hidden from the young lady over the past year, and my lie had not deceived her.

"The tattoo you talked about… The one that resembles tree bark…!"

"If you look right here, it does look a bit like a tattoo."

"How could you say that looks like a tattoo! How could anyone think that's a tattoo!"

How could anyone believe a scar so prominent was from falling?

The sight of the crying young lady, in her sparkling party hat, prevented me from looking up at her.

I couldn't think of an excuse.

I hadn't anticipated getting caught like this.

Because I didn't want to be caught.

If I had just a month more time for the resistance to dark magic to build and for the scar on my right hand to fade a little more, perhaps she wouldn't be as shocked as she was now.

Though it was a futile lament, a part of me wished I had been discovered a little later.

The young lady reached out towards my scar-filled right hand.

Her hand trembled like a willow in the wind.

Abandoning her cherished chocolate cake on the floor, she stretched out her hand.

"Don't lie to me… How could a fall cause this…"

Carefully avoiding the advancing young lady's touch, I met her wandering eyes.

"Why… are you avoiding?"

She asked with a shaky voice, concern etched into her voice as if worried she might have hurt me.

"No, it's not that."

"It's because…"

I didn't want to show you.

My hand was dirty from training on a dusty floor for half a day, and if she saw the scars, she might recall the events of that day. Then I would not know what to say to the young lady.

That's why I covered it up with a hollow laugh.

"Why are you laughing…!"

The young lady, filled with exasperation, screamed at me.

Her party hat's tassel shook with every outburst, and though it wasn't scary, her trembling fists showed just how upset she was.

The young lady stated,

"You said it was a tattoo."

"…"

"That you got a tattoo…"

She trailed off.

"But why… why do you keep lying."

I replied to the young lady dispassionately,

"I'm not hurt."

"You're lying."

The irate young lady.

She didn't seem inclined to believe my words.

In frustration, she clenched her fists tightly. It was funny to see someone who told me not to hurt myself clenching her fists.

The young lady, thinking this mockery could not continue any longer, bit her lip and spoke resolutely,

"Give it to me."

"That I cannot do."

"Give me your hand."

She demanded with eyes that refused to concede, but this time I could not play along to the young lady's rhythm.

The young lady furrowed her brow,

She glared at me, cheeks puffed as if she were truly mad, though the threat was belied by her tear-brimmed eyes which made her seem not the least bit angry.

"I'm really fine."

I heard the grinding of her teeth.

"I told you not to lie."

"I'm not lying, I'm telling you what happened."

Crunch.

The young lady's hands turned pale as she clenched the hem of her dress.

"Ricardo. If you keep doing this, I really can't handle it. I just can't…"

The young lady shook her head,

Pleading with me not to lie any more like a child throwing a tantrum in a department store for a toy.

But still, I couldn't grant her request.

"Please… just, please…"

The young lady, feeling suffocated, punched her chest. She was not angry at me for lying but angry at herself for making me lie.

Olivia didn't want to hear any kind words. She didn't want the consolation that it wasn't my fault or that it was unrelated to her. Even if it hurt, she wanted to hear the stinging truth.

But still, she resented Ricardo for continually avoiding her touch.

I dodged the young lady's insistent hands and hid my right hand behind me.

And with a feeble smile, I said,

"I'm really fine."

Picking up a shirt dropped on the floor, I thought of what to say next. A story a bit more believable for the young lady…

Ah.

'There really isn't anything on my mind.'

I had started off all wrong.

Had I started with 'Ouch, I think I'm dying' rather than saying I had fallen, the mood might have been slightly lighter for this conversation.

The young lady clenched her fist and said,

"Lie."

To which I responded,

"I have a disease that makes my nose grow if I tell lies."

"There's no such disease."

"But there is."

"Stop joking. If there was such a disease, Ricardo's nose would already be this high."

The young lady spread her arms wide apart.

How many lies must one be caught in to be told off like that? As a professional fabricator of tales, I felt my pride wounded by the young lady's insinuation and reacted defensively.

"That's not the case. I'm a person of utmost integrity."

"That's a lie too. You said you got a tattoo and that time you promised to buy mountains of chocolate but came back without any."

"I don't recall making such a promise."

Hesitation flashed across the young lady's face, but she quickly gathered her memories of my past offenses and countered,

"And that letter you got from Michail asking how you're doing…"

"…"

"You wrote it, didn't you?"

"Was I discovered? I thought I had imitated his handwriting perfectly."

"Michail's writing does not squirm like worms!"

"As long as it's legible, isn't that enough?!"

"I couldn't recognize it. I only understood it because you translated it for me!"

The young lady's frustration erupted, and she clenched her fists tight. Her tears, which rolled off her cheeks and dampened the wardrobe floor, and her sorrow-filled eyes trembled every time they fell upon my hidden right hand.

I realized I had no talent for deceit.

"So, Ricardo. Why would you do that?"

Faced with the young lady's worried question, I smiled broadly and replied,

"I was hit by someone."

Thump. It was as if I could hear the young lady's heart dropping. Her face turned pale, and her hands trembled.

Stuttering, the young lady asked,

"Who..who hit you?"

"Um…"

I pondered, resting my chin on my hand.

Watching the young lady open and close her fists like a child was somewhat endearing and, given the somewhat relaxed atmosphere, my tension began to ebb away.

"Well, who could it be? If we knew, could the young lady punish them for me?"

The young lady nodded awkwardly.

Armed with determination, she promised the culprit a strict reprimand.

Watching this, I couldn't help but chuckle.

"Young lady."

"Uh…?"

"You hit me."

"…"

The atmosphere turned frosty in an instant. I scrambled for a response as the young lady hung her head morosely, releasing the clenched fists and looking utterly dejected.

"Do you truly believe that?"

"It's true."

"It's a lie, though."

The young lady looked at me.

"Your nose hasn't grown."

"There's no such disease."

"But you said there was, Ricardo."

"…"

Bending over, I lowered myself to the young lady's eye level.

"Young lady, being this gullible will get your liver and gallbladder snatched away."

"Liver? Gallbladder?"

"There are essential things like that for your body."

The young lady looked at me as her eyes swelled with tears.

Her eyes were so swollen that by morning it seemed she'd be crying out weird words instead of booming air raid sirens. Fearing that if she cried any more, she truly would turn me into a blind man, I reached for her cheeks and stretched them out.

"Even if you did hit me, what could we do? It's already happened, hasn't it?"

"But still…"

"You got punished because you deserved it, right?"

The young lady bit her lip.

She couldn't meet my eyes, like someone guilty of stealing cookies, and held back her tears with sniffles.

I pressed on her cheeks like squeezing a goldfish.

"What are you doing?!"

"So unattractive, that look."

The young lady clenched her fist.

At last, she seemed more like herself, and I was relieved.

"Listen, young lady."

I spoke to her in a gentle, quiet voice.

"I'm quite a drama queen. Really."

"When I was a kid, I tried to catch fish with my bare hands in the stream. I fell over on the pebbles and scraped my knee, do you know what I did?"

"What did you do?"

"I cried my eyes out. All night long."

"And remember last time, I got a splinter from swinging a wooden sword and bugged you about it for an entire day?"

The young lady nodded faintly as she choked back tears.

"See. I bear most things well but not pain. Even a tiny wound gets me whining, so if I were truly hurt, wouldn't I tell you?"

I gave a reassuring smile into the young lady's glistening eyes.

"If I'm hurt, I'll say I'm hurt."

The young lady nodded.

"Good."

Then she added,

"But, something about this doesn't seem right."

The young lady bowed her head deeply.

"This isn't right."

Like a penitent criminal, she shook her head and wiped her eyes with her sleeve.

I took a handkerchief from my pocket and handed it to her.

"Why are you crying again, young lady?"

"Sniff. Sniff. No… this is not it…"

Denying it, yet the young lady let the tears flow again.

She said,

"It's not okay to be hurt…"

Staring into space with unfocused eyes,

"Being hurt… really isn't okay…"

Her hand was touching the scars on my body.

You can read all 200 translated chapters for $20. +50 new episodes every month patreon.com/Overlord02