A Villain's Way of Taming Heroines

Chapter 439: Bring it to an end - Three - I

Recently, Ravenna has been consistently startled awake by nightmares.

Ever since Ansel uttered those words, she has been perpetually restless.

Although that mischievous jerk eventually laughed it off as a mere jest, Ravenna couldn't shake the feeling that he was not truly jesting.

Even if it was just for a fleeting moment, whenever she caught a glimpse of Ansel's emotions, she could discern the secrets he was reluctant to voice.

Yet, this jerk, merely thirteen years of age, displayed a sophistication that left Ravenna at a loss; she could not detect any anomalies in his daily demeanor, nor dared she make any indirect inquiries—for she knew well that he would see right through them.

The diminutive scholarly prodigy glanced at the blond boy sleeping beside her, remained silent for a long while, and raised her hand as if to touch his hair. But just before her fingers could graze those soft golden strands, her hand paused, suspended in mid-air.

Without a word, she withdrew her hand, descended from the spacious sofa, donned her glasses, and prepared to embark on new research.

As for why the two shared a sleeping space... well, that traces back to a time long ago when Ansel first insisted that Ravenna rest properly.

Their sleeping positions were impeccable, and their appearances were... any improper thoughts seemed almost criminal, thus they simply lay together naturally and harmoniously on the same sofa.

Ravenna performed a spell for efficient self-cleansing, and her feet, encased in black tights, silently stepped onto the floor as she moved towards her workstation.

However, as she picked up her pen, ready to delve into calculations and research, she found herself utterly unable to concentrate.

"... Ah, up so early again?"

As Ravenna stared blankly at the blueprints, Ansel, yawning, sat up and said, "How many times have I told you, breakfast first, Venna."

After a couple of seconds of silence, Ansel, half-squinting, took in Ravenna's silent, frozen demeanor, and his lazy, casual expression gradually faded.

A peculiar, indescribable silence enveloped them until Ravenna murmured softly, "I'm not really hungry this morning; you go ahead and eat."

Ansel did not respond but simply propped his cheek with his hand, gazing at Ravenna for a long time before finally sighing in resignation, "It seems you've taken my joke to heart."

"... I believe," Ravenna turned her head, her expression earnest, "that's not something to joke about."

"Don't you know me by now?"

Ansel said nonchalantly, "To me, there's nothing too serious to joke about. Or is it that..."

His voice suddenly became lighter, more elusive, as if a ghost aimlessly wandering the world was whispering.

She should be thankful that she didn't open her eyes at that moment, didn't meet Ansel's gaze, and now, didn't see the expression on his face.

That expression, which, despite emitting such a close laugh, was detached, eerie, and terrifying.

Sometimes, pain does not necessarily signify struggle, but rather... a choice already made.

Just as Ravenna understood Ansel so well, he understood her just as much.

—Her pain did not stem from indecision, but from the knowledge that if Ansel truly intended to give up, or even betray...

Then she would undoubtedly give up on Ansel.

"Venna," Ansel murmured warmly as he caressed Ravenna's back, "Let's go and gaze at the sky once more."

Looking up at the boundless azure was one of Ravenna's rare pleasures, and now, comforted, she had no reason to refuse.

"Are you trying to offer me some solace?" Ravenna whispered, her face close to Ansel's cheek.

"Something like that," Ansel smiled, "I am your best friend, after all."

I am your best friend, and so are you, Venna.

Therefore, just this once... I think, I'll give you another chance.

Not from my own conjecture, but for you to voice that answer yourself.

Me, and that hollow, illusory obsession...

Which will you choose?

Ansel, still embracing Ravenna, stood up and mused inwardly.

He turned his head as if to listen to Ravenna's heartbeat, or perhaps the whispers of fate.

But all he heard was the distant, faint rumble of thunder from the heavens.

A storm was coming.

*