How to Heal a Villain with L*ve

Soft. Fluffy. Under my fingers, I can feel the warm embrace of… a blanket, I guess? No noise… Only the vague scent of flowers I’m becoming gradually aware of.

    Where am I?

    Last thing I remember, I was in my mansion… ohh yes, Gallghaid managed to harm me. Devious scumbag… Did he manage to kill me? Is this hell?

    It isn’t exactly how I expected it to feel. But, come to think of it, isn’t it a place supposed to embody torture for the cursed souls trapped in there? And what more cruel kind of torture for an evil mind like me than to be exposed to goodness? Horrid beasts… They won’t even greet me with the flames of hell. If I can already feel wrapped in softness, what awaits me once I open my eyes? The devil dressed in a maid outfit??

    Resigned to my grim destiny, I slowly unseal my eyelids.

    Little stars are the first thing I catch sight of. Tiny stars painted in pastel yellow, hanging from the ceiling. As if brushed by a faint breeze, they turn at the end of thin threads. A nursery mobile.

    A ceiling painted in lilac, adorned here and there by woolly clouds. Horrendous… All seems crafted with care.

“You’re awake?”

    A soft voice. Caught off guard, my heart misses a beat.

    As I turn my golden eyes, I catch sight of her figure at the bedside, dressed in her usual pastel green dress. A book lying on her lap, she observes me attentively.

“Ambrillia?!”

    With a sudden jolt, every remnant of slumber fleeing my body, I straighten up.

    The moment I lean against my forearms, a sharp pain curses my body for its boldness.

“Don’t move. You need to rest.” She gently scolds, leaning in closer, seeking support on the edge of the mattress.

    With a wince, I am forced back against the pillows, her hand pressed to my chest.

“Your wounds aren’t that bad, but don’t push your luck.”

“What happened?”

“Gallghaid managed to harm you, but then Keillweist handled him. He won’t be able to attempt anything now.” She observes me with a softened smile for a while before adding with a joyful note. “More importantly, you’re still alive.”

    Alive? Ohh, that’s being naive. That life of mine will not last long with her so close to me. I can already feel my senses numbed by her apricot scent, her figure now still leant over mine.

“W-where am I?” I ask with apprehension.

    That’s when she finally has the decency to sit back in her armchair.

    THANKS DEVIL.

“In Ambrosia. I brought you to my estate, even though your butler had some protests to voice about it.” Her smile widens ever so slightly. “But I promised to take good care of you. He will handle your mansion and duties during your absence.”

    A shiver runs up my spine.

    That’s what I feared… I was brought to this den of k*ndness. I can already feel the unevil air corrupting my lungs.

“Keillweist, you traitor…”

“Do you like the decorations?” Ambrillia wonders as I eye skeptically the cage of softness I’ve been placed into. “At first, I thought I would merely settle you into one of our guest rooms. But they are so lame…” She leans her hand against her cheek with an unconvinced expression. “Hence I decided it was better to move you into the room I occupied as a child. We just had to move in a bigger bed.”

    Evil. There is no other word to describe the schemes of that beautiful creature. Gifting me her most innocent memories the moment I wake up? Letting me discover the room blessed by her first breaths? What sort of adorable child was she? The urge to know more about her somehow dulls the pain in my side…

    As if she needed more of those stratagems when every part of me already wished to worship her existence.

    Ahh!

    But that’s when a terrible realisation strikes me.

“And you dare to let the evil Duke into such a place? I can’t sully this holy place any longer with my malevolent aura…” I mutter, attempting to straighten up more cautiously.

    A rustle of fabric.

    In the blink of an eye, Ambrillia’s figure hovers over mine, her hands against my shoulders pressing me back to the pastel sheets.

    Now that to lean forward to stand up means dangerously reducing the gap between us, I’m left unable to move. Unable to find a distraction from the sensation of my ears burning.

“Am...Ambrillia, you’re too close.”

    At my words, she leans in even closer, to the point that her breath mingles with mine.

“What did you just call me?” She whispers.

    My mind shatters.

“Armillia…”

“Mmhm, better.”

    Satisfied, she leans back ever so lightly.

“The more I think about it,” she resumes after a pause, “the more I want to protect you from yourself.” Her hand reaches out to allow her fingers to play idly with strands of my crimson hair, wrapping one around her finger. “If you try to leave this room, know that I’ll find you. I’ll bring you back. And I will tie you to this bed.”

    G-Gasp.

    I have to heal. There’s no other way. I have to rapidly defeat these wounds or my heart will grow old before its time…

༻❦︎༺

    As I turn my head towards the round window, the last rays of the Sun filter through the purple curtains.

    The memories of that night linger in my mind. I was supposed to meet my death by the end of the night, and yet I’m still breathing.

“Am I no longer threatened by Iagan’s prediction? She said it should have happened that night, but what if it simply got postponed for a few days? Maybe it’s still looming over my head.”

    My thoughts drift to my father.

    As far as I’m aware, nobody managed until now to deflect a banshee’s prophecy.

“If I… if we had tried harder back then, could we have been able to save my father?”

    Almost fancy, the thought crosses my mind. The horrid reality revealed by my butler follows without failing.

“If even angels can be malevolent, if a benediction can be changed into a curse according to their whims,… maybe it was beyond us. Maybe even today, I would’ve been unable to protect my father.”

    At this moment, Ambrillia enters the room, holding a basin of water.

“It’s time to refresh you a bit, Rowan!”

    Putting the basin on a chair she pulls close enough to the bed, Ambrillia sits on the edge of my bed.

“Let me see these wounds.”

    With her help, her hand brushing my back, I straighten up in a rustle of fabric. The sheets fall to my waist, revealing my bare chest covered only by a bunch of bandages.

“Maybe it isn’t my fault.”

    Her fingers run over my skin as she seeks the edge of the bandages, allowing her to undo them.

“Does it hurt?” She wonders, her voice a gentle breath.

“No.” I mutter, despite a slight ache where her fingers press.

    As if sensing my discomfort, her fingers press a bit harder against my skin. Monster.

“Does it hurt?” She repeats.

“N-no…” I mutter, frowning.

    But the pressure grows more insistent, leaving me unable to hold back a wince. Almost at once, she releases the pressure.

“Don’t hide it from me. To properly take care of you, I have to learn what makes you tick…” she reaches for a wet towel, and I feel her shift her position behind me, adjusting her position on the mattress, “… what hurts, what soothes…”

    As she speaks, I feel the lukewarm fabric brush against my back. If I manage to bite back a sigh, a slight shiver betrays me. Her hand keeps guiding the fabric against my skin, the pressure growing more subtle as she inches closer to my wound.

“Mmhm, it’s cleaner. It’s healing well. I guess my magic wasn’t completely useless.”

    At her words, I can’t help but direct a curious glance at her over my shoulder.

“Your magic? What do you even mean?”