Villain's Odyssey: Enslaving heroines, Conquering Villainesses

Seated on an extravagant bed was a young lady. Golden orb-like eyes gazed into the distance, and almost golden hair spilled behind her in waves, held back by a braid. Forward-falling strands covered her forehead, giving her a sophisticated beauty. Her smooth, pale face was well-sculpted, and she was dressed in a sleeping gown that concealed the figure she had grown to possess over the years—what drew eyes her way even more than her angelic face did, and the reason the prince desired her by all means.

The gown wasn't overly styled since it was meant for indoor wear, though the silk fabric hugged her figure when stretched. The front profile remained modestly cut, hinting at the burden she carried.

Click.

The door clicked open, but she didn't look away from the mirror.

"My lady," the maid spoke, her voice tinged with concern.

Camella had been like this since the day she woke up, right after finding out what had happened to Azalea—how he was expelled and went missing that very same day. She had refused to leave her room, even after her father himself had summoned her. She remained adamant, ignoring letters from her friends, gifts, even ignoring the prince the day he visited.

"What is it, Valerie?" she asked, her voice tired, her gaze fixed on the large window from which light bathed the room.

"Your friends... Lady Isabelle and Maria. They are here to see you." The moment she heard those names, something in her chest clenched tightly.

"Send them away," she said without missing a beat, her eyes still glued to the window, her expression unreadable.

"Un-understood," the maid nodded in shock and left.

She stared for a while, then raised her hand, gazing at her palm.

Why? she thought.

Why did it have to end this way?

Az.

She had always seen how exhausted he was, frustrated, how he always forced a smile when talking with her.

She knew him through Isabelle, during her fourteenth birthday—the last one of Lady Montez. The boy who was said to be unable to awaken, the cowardly trash of the Nevana family.

He looked different from the rumors.

Yes, perhaps he was a bit of a crybaby...

Okay, scratch that—he was one big crybaby.

"Hehe," she chuckled, but tears dripped down her cheeks.

But she knew he wasn't a bad person.

A coward? Far from it.

She had seen him injured repeatedly, and her curiosity had led her to find out he actually had his own fights.

From birth he was cursed to be weak, to be nothing more than the title attached to his name: Nevana.

But he fought against it. He really did.

He had saved her once before—numerous times—but she didn't know it was him at first.

The secret letters about what could happen if she didn't do something.

The crazy guy with a mask and potions during the first second semester final exam, where her team had abandoned her. She was cornered, almost died, but someone—some guy who couldn't even tie the mask properly on his face, making him look like an idiot—had saved her.

"Hahaha," More tears fell.

He had saved her times she realized it was him, and probably ones she might never know.

He saved the others too, but they were too caught up in their own selves to realize someone was actually risking his life for them.

She tried to make him open up.

But he never gave in.

He always hid his true self from everyone.

Perhaps he would have opened up if it was Isabelle.

But Isabelle never even sensed it in the first place.

He only ever cared about her, but she was just a selfish bitch.

"Sigh," she sighed.

Her fist clenched.

She came to actually love him. They spent time together—moments she forced from him as Isabelle and everyone else began neglecting him. After all, he was just an alchemist; they were all either combat mages or swordsmen. No one had time for him, so he was always alone, and it was from then the feelings came.

They would talk, and the idiot would end up crying after getting emotional.

It was annoying, but she didn't hate that about him.

He was just too human—that was what she thought.

He was the most sincere person she knew, and weak too.

That part did annoy her though, but she weaponized it to annoy him most of the time.

He went on about a peaceful life.

He just wanted to be happy.

With time, she imagined that life for them both.

Away from the constant scheming, politics, mind games—away from it all, and being with someone who was always free, never trying to take advantage of you.

She fell, with time.

She did.

She couldn't even deny it.

But she realized with time that something was wrong with him.

Yeah, aside from the constant crying like an idiot, smiling and being the Azalea she knew.

She always sensed it whenever he spoke, stared at nothing in particular. That emptiness—perhaps even he didn't notice—he sounded hollow at times, like someone who had lost everything, who was just living for the sake of it, who knew their death was inevitable.

It pained her.

It did.

She realized something.

That emptiness in him, that part of him he was hiding away—it made him unable to sense the feelings she was throwing right at his face. It was as though he was blind to it. Back then she used to think he actually liked Isabelle with how close they were. But he didn't. She came to understand. He didn't. He couldn't. There was something broken in him.

He couldn't love anyone.

Click.

She tilted her head, her eyes darkening.

"I said I didn't want to talk to anyone," she said.

"Sigh. Camella, what's wrong?"