The Villain Wants to Live a Quiet Life

The garden at night was both dark and bright.

A contradictory expression, though that was all I could express after setting foot in that garden.

Why did the garden shine so brightly despite it being deep into the night?

“It’s beautiful. It was worth waiting until night.”

“I’m glad you think so.”

As I shivered slightly in the chilly air, he draped the blanket he had brought over me.

I wondered why he had prepared such a thing, but I could see why.

To what lengths is he trying to be considerate of me?

“There are many stars.”

“It seems you had difficulty seeing stars from where you were before.”

“That’s not it. It’s just…”

Hearing that, I found it curious.

I could always see stars where I grew up. On full moon nights, dozens, even hundreds of stars would gather around the brilliant moon as if guarding it.

As a child, I used to make wishes upon those stars. Simple, albeit childish wishes.

For my favorite meal to be served the next morning. For father to bring back an interesting item from his inspection tour.

Though modest, I think my heart was the happiest then, looking at the stars with such pure intentions.

“I’m just happy to see the stars again here.”

“…”

Since gaining these eyes, I’ve been unable to accept anything in the world as it is.

Though they were fleetingly bright, clear, and as dazzling as if all the world’s jewels were gathered in one jewel box, even they did not sparkle as they did seven years ago.

“Ludwig.”

“Yes.”

At my call, he slightly turned his head and gazed at me with night-colored eyes to match his hair.

Beyond those eyes, something like white-colored fragments shone faintly.

It felt captivating, like stars shyly hiding behind the veil of the night sky.

“You said you liked flowers, the moon, and stars. Is there a reason?”

“A reason… that’s difficult.”

Ludwig smiled as if troubled by my sudden, riddle-like question.

But the clump behind him showed no particular change. Rather, the golden fragments illuminating the surroundings began to shine even more.

“It’s hard to give a reason… but isn’t beauty alone enough a reason?”

“Beauty… is that enough for you?”

“Yes.”

So that’s your answer.

A wry smile formed on his lips as if he thought his answer insufficient, but I didn’t mind.

Rather, I had hoped he would say something like that. At least, the current me did.

‘What a pure person.’

Objects have an essence. However, it’s not necessarily something hidden that can only be discovered by looking with these eyes.

Those who consider themselves extraordinary often strain to see something beyond, turning their eyes away from obvious facts.

But what about him? He has eyes that see beauty as it is. People call such an ability pure.

‘I used to be like that too.’

Looking at this man feels like glimpsing my past self.

Even if he’s not a highly educated, noble figure. Even if he doesn’t have eyes that pierce through human psychology and see beyond…

Those eyes that see things as they are. They are as excellent and precious as anything else.

“I’m not sure if that was a satisfactory answer.”

“It’s enough. Flowers, the moon, stars – beautiful things have meaning in themselves.”

Hearing his confirmation, I felt I could let go of something in my heart.

Yes, you’re right. Do we need a grand reason to cherish something?

Today, thanks to the star-filled sky and you, I was able to realize the purity I had buried in those days.

As the cold breeze blew again, I took his hand and headed towards the center of the garden.

“What kind of person do you want to become?”

“Well, I haven’t thought deeply about it, but…”

Even to potentially troublesome questions, he would only briefly stiffen his expression before answering truthfully.

These eyes told me that his words weren’t lies born from formality.

“I’m a bit afraid of revealing myself to others. Since I like the moon, I’d like to become a person like the moon.”

“A person like the moon…?”

It was a statement hard to grasp the meaning of. But even to my question, he recited his belief proudly with a gentle smile.

“There’s a saying that the moon is a mirror reflecting the sun. Though not as much as the sun that illuminates the whole world and hangs proudly, I’d like to illuminate people from an unseen place, like a mirror reflecting the sun.”

I’m not sure if his aspiration is manly enough, but to me, it felt more noble than all the artificial and formal answers I had heard until now.

He doesn’t hide himself. He reveals his own inadequacies and sometimes speaks of his flaws without hesitation.

Yet he has a purpose. Though it may not be something grand and lofty like illuminating the entire world, he has his own belief that he can proudly speak of.

‘What an interesting man.’

Sometimes he feels like a flower, sometimes like the moon.

When I’m by his side, my senses are captivated by his flower-like radiance and allure.

When he reflects on himself, it feels as if these two eyes that had held all the ugliness in the world are being washed clean by his subtle light.

The wind blows again.

By the time the moon slowly hid behind the clouds, I was calling him Ludwig, and he was calling me Emilia.

I carefully felt his name on my lips again without any particular reason.

‘Ludwig’. Its slowly warmed me from head to toe.

Thanks to you, I’ve become warm, as if my frozen heart had begun to melt.

*          *          *          *          *          *          *

I waited for him alone in the dining room as the sun rose.

Though I knew it was impolite, I asked the servant to inform him that no food was needed until he arrived.

I thought he might be sleeping in, but I had woken up quite early. I got out of bed just as the sun was rising over the middle of the mountain visible through the window.

“I have to go soon.”

Just one day. All in which I got to talk with him, think about him, and reflect on my own past days.

It was so short. I had never experienced a time that felt so brief in my life.

As I spent time looking at the garden and the busy servants through the window, before long, he appeared, opening the dining room door.

Did he hurry because of me? Seeing him catch his breath, I felt sorry.

Even though yesterday’s and today’s schedules must have been disrupted due to this unexpected visitor, he apologized to me first.

Unlike yesterday with his hair all loose, today he had all his hair swept back with quite the charm. He looked cute, like a child imitating an adult.

This hairstyle suits him too. When the maid at home told me any hairstyle would suit me, I didn’t understand what she meant, but I think I understand now.

“Would it be alright if I recommend the meal, Emilia?”

“Of course. I’m looking forward to it.”

Have I ever said such words to a man in my life? It’s a strange feeling.

The food he ordered arrived not long after. Well, quite some time had passed, but it appears we were too busy chatting.

As we sat face-to-face, a sauce in a separate silver dish caught my eye. Was it called a saucière? I had heard the unique serving method was common in the southern region.

‘What if I pretend not to know?’

I smiled inwardly at the sudden mischievous thought. Since this custom didn’t exist where I lived, I acted believing he would notice.

I hesitated, reaching for the sauce and then pulling back. I then proceeded to fiddle with the cutlery. His gaze shifted to me.

This is my chance.

“Um… should I use the sauce in this dish?”

“Ah.”

As expected, Ludwig rose from his seat with a look that said he hadn’t thought of it and approached me.

I nodded willingly when he asked if he could help.

I’ve captured your attention for this, after all. Though I couldn’t say that out loud.

As he transferred the sauce and explained how to use it, I agreed appropriately and moved closer.

His body stiffened and he called my name softly, so I pretended not to notice, tilting my head. Who would have thought I’d ever act so coquettishly in my life?

Still, I’m enjoying it. This whole situation.

*          *          *          *          *          *          *

The time to return had come, regrettably. But this isn’t our last meeting.

From my conversation with Ludwig, I learned that he will have his coming-of-age ceremony in three weeks.

I’m not sure if the Aiphretz family will send an invitation to our family, but if the young master permits, it shouldn’t be a problem if I were to visit alone. That would be the best opportunity.

The carriage had arrived, so I had to get up. As we moved through the garden to the entrance, Greta, the maid, was waiting in front of the carriage to greet me.

Well, someone of her caliber probably doesn’t need much escort.

“Three weeks… that’s quite a while.”

“Indeed. It’s a time that’s long if it’s long, and short if it’s short.”

Is he not regretful about parting with me? I sighed softly, muttering for him to hear, but Ludwig’s reaction was quite shallow.

These eyes aren’t omnipotent after all. If I could notice that he was expressing regret inside, I would change my schedule right away and stay here longer.

Of course, that would be quite an inconvenience for the Aiphretz family.

“Emilia, is there any gift you’d like?”

That’s what he suddenly asked me as we reached the entrance.

A gift? What kind of gift does he mean? Modesty aside, as the eldest daughter of the Bayemühren family, I didn’t lack for many things.

That’s why men who tried to court me would often try to use their family’s power to send me the best gifts possible.

What should I say? If possible, I wanted a gift that neither he nor I could forget.

It didn’t have to be anything grand. I’d be satisfied with just something that could remind me of our meeting.

“Then… could I have a flower?”

“A flower?”

In the end, what I chose was a flower. I said it would be even better if it was one he had grown himself.

After some thought, he said he understood and asked me to wait a moment before running straight to the garden. Did he think of something?

Sometimes, flowers boast a value superior to any other gift.

Flowers with good seeds are as valuable as gold, and they’re fleeting as they can’t maintain their value once they wither.

Among the many flowers, which one will he gift me? I smiled as I saw Greta’s surprised expression beside me.

I know, Greta. I’m not quite myself right now.

When he returned a moment later, his hands were covered in soil.

I asked Greta for a handkerchief and offered it to him, but he just smiled and waved it off.

It’s truly regrettable. In the end, I haven’t done anything for you until the moment of parting.

“It’s such a precious gift. May I accept it?”

What he handed me was none other than a moonlight rose. It was a rare flower said to be created from roses transformed by moonlight.

I hesitated as I accepted it, as he said it was to commemorate our friendship.

He must have given it a lot of thought. What kind of flower I might like, which flower might be more valuable, what color would be good, and what flower would be suitable as a parting gift.

All those considerations you had are contained in this single flower. What should I do? I’m so happy it’s hard to hide my expression.

“It’s a flower, so it will wither someday… but please cherish it until then.”

It withers. Yes. A regrettable drawback of flowers.

No matter how beautiful the flower, no matter how precious the seed, it’s the same.

No matter how much you water it, expose it to sunlight, and tend to it with all your heart, a flower eventually loses its beauty.

Even this moonlight rose he gave me couldn’t escape that fate.

‘…Alright. I’ll use it here.’

Then I’ll make sure it doesn’t wither. I will cherish this token you’ve given me forever. 

The ring my father passed down to me. This is a divine tool that grants permanence. I was going to use it on my beloved sword when my swordsmanship deepened, but… that’s no longer necessary.

Because the memories of these two days shared with him were more precious than anything else.

“Emilia… are you sure it’s alright? Such a precious item…”

“The moonlight rose you gave me is just as precious a flower.”

“But…”

He kept trying to stop me even as I recited what this ring was and used it.

Saying that even if it’s a moonlight rose, I should think carefully before using it. That there must be more blooming somewhere. That it’s not the only moonlight rose in the world.

Perhaps he’s right. If we searched this country thoroughly, we might find a few moonlight roses. But,

“There might be more moonlight roses blooming somewhere in this country. However, this is the only one you, Ludwig, have given me with your heart.”

It’s more beautiful because it’s a moonlight rose with your feelings in it. If the son of Medilnburg who kept flirting with me had given me the same flower, I would never have done this.

The moonlight rose, now imbued with the ring’s light, showed even more vitality than before. It’s as if even the flower seems to be full of moonlight.

“I’ll be going now, Ludwig. See you at the coming-of-age ceremony.”

“Understood. Then, at the ceremony…”

As I climbed into the carriage and waved, Ludwig bid me farewell, still looking at me with regretful eyes.

Is that regret about our brief parting?

Or is it regret about the ring used on the moonlight rose?

It’s regrettable that I don’t know, but it’s alright. I can see you again in three weeks.

At that time, I want to tell you many stories, just as you did for me.

Even if they may not capture your interest, I want to share the numerous tales I’ve experienced.

The vast and magnificent curtain of ice I saw in the northern mountains.

The blood-red sea I witnessed in the western regions.

Yes, I have much to tell. For both you and me, there must be mountains of stories we haven’t yet shared with each other.

translator’s corner

website a lil funky, sorry for the delay ;w;