This Three Year Old Is a Villainess-Chapter 300

Capital City, Sector 1.

As the palace drew near, Conrad approached Alexis and whispered:

“The Duke of Isiron reports: ‘All preparations are complete.’”

“Understood.”

Even the Duke of Isiron, who couldn’t anticipate the full situation, moved swiftly.

‘So that’s who’s orchestrating this.’

Only one person could act this quickly. Alexis pictured Erilot in his mind.

He said to the procession’s head, “As soon as we arrive, dispose of the crumatus. Let every soul know who handled it.”

“Very well.”

“From now on, there will be realms neither I nor Duke Isiron can protect... Be careful.”

“I know.”

“Please... be careful.”

Conrad placed his hand over his heart and bowed deeply.

“To Kalsoye the Greatest, a millennium of glory.”

A salute to the Emperor. Alexis pulled back his hood and strode forward toward the new era.

Dalia’s eyes flew open.

‘A bed?’

She was in her own room of the shabby house Grimie had purchased in the capital.

‘What happened...?’

At that moment, the maid opened the door with a tray and rushed in.

“Milady! You’re awake!”

“...Why am I in a room?”

“You fainted on your return from the palace. You haven’t slept a wink in a month, so it’s only natural.”

The maid fussed as she pressed a vial into Dalia’s hand. She really had suffered. She’d napped fitfully while tending patients for three weeks, then cried herself sleepless over being expelled by the Emperor because of the crumatus.

“You overexerted yourself before your body stabilized. You’ve slept for days.”

“Days? How many days was I out?”

“Today is the fifth.”

“What—?!”

This was the trope where the heroine remains unconscious for days. Dalia glanced over her body in surprise.

‘I lay here all that time—no bedsores?’

When her sister lay immobilized before death, she’d suffered bedsores. The maid looked puzzled.

“What are you checking?”

“Bedsores, just in case.”

“Priests, doctors, and mages tended you daily. No need to worry.”

“Oh, thank goodness. Priests too? I heard summoning one costs a fortune—patients told me, so I knew... Patient!”

Dalia bolted upright, then clutched her forehead and swayed.

“Dizziness....”

“You mustn’t rise so suddenly.”

“But I must see the patients.”

The maid tried to persuade her as Dalia insisted on dressing.

“You collapsed caring for patients, and you still want to go back to them?”

“But they need me! Only I can help them!”

“Oh, Milady! His Majesty said you need not return to the palace. You’ve been weeping yourself sleepless all this time!”

“....”

Dalia paused, startled.

‘But that was because of the crumatus.’

She’d only used what the Emperor already used—she’d known nothing else.

‘I didn’t know.’

She’d rushed to tell her father once she learned crumatus’s true nature—and he’d been equally astonished.

“His Majesty’s anger was over the crumatus, right?”

“Y-yes?”

“I have a special wavelength that amplifies any herb’s effects. Why not try a proper herb instead?”

“That....”

“If you work hard, the Emperor will clear up the misunderstanding!”

She and the Emperor were close friends. ‘He’s upset now, but he’ll forgive me soon.’

Dalia brightened and entered the dressing room. The maid sighed.

“Such spirit and positivity... but perhaps too much.”

Dressed, Dalia left the house—and found something odd.

‘Huh? It feels different from before I collapsed...’

Lines remained long at every hospital and medical tent. People still collapsed exhausted while waiting for medicine. But the cries of agony that echoed like hellfire were gone.

“Keep your place in line! Hey, keep your place!”

Wooden crates were being hauled into a medical tent.

‘So many crates... like deliveries.’

“Leticia.”

The maid looked up.

“Yes, Milady?”

“What are in those crates?”

“Oh, cures.”

“Cures...? There are cures?”

“They began arriving a few days ago. Oh! A shop reopened—would you like something to eat?”

She hurriedly pointed across from the medical tent. Dalia scowled.

“Why change the subject?”

“It’s....”

“Spit it out!”

“Sent by Erilot-sama.”

“...Huh?”

Patients passing by murmured happily.

“All this medicine came from Astra estate.”

“How did they prepare it so fast?”

“Erilot-sama anticipated using Tricolor Blossoms against the plague. She locked herself in the manor to prepare them!”

“Ah, I heard. That... whatever she used instead of crumatus—what was her name? They called her a saint or something.”

“Dalia Astra?”

“Right, that cousin of Erilot Astra!”

They clicked their tongues.

“Last month they quarreled over crumatus, didn’t they?”

“They say Dalia’s tantrum got Erilot kicked out.”

“A saint, my foot.”

“Who even calls Dalia Astra a saint now?”

They laughed boisterously and passed on. Dalia, cheeks flaming, clutched her skirt.

‘Those rude people...!’

Tears brimmed in her eyes. The maid hurried to comfort her.

“Don’t heed their words. Gossips are like bats—nonsense.”

“I worked so hard... and they know nothing....”

“The public is like that—talk without knowing. Let them earn their comeuppance.”

Yes—fame brings such ugly rumors. Celebrities endure thoughtless slander.

‘Those wicked people. But who knows how it will end? I’ll stand firm.’

Dalia wiped her tears.

“I won’t let this get me down.”

“...”

“There seems plenty of medicine now, so let’s go. There must be somewhere I can help yet!”

Clenching her fists, Dalia declared:

‘Just wait and see.’

She would make those who blamed her apologize.

The Imperial Palace.

The Emperor stared intently at Alexis.

“Raise your head.”

It was Alexis’s first time meeting the Emperor at such proximity. He slowly lifted his chin.

“....”

“....”

Their gazes locked in empty air—clear as a mountain lake untainted by man. Alexis’s face was composed in disciplined lines, yet there was a strange sense of déjà vu.

“Have we met before?”

“Yes... from afar, when I served in the Western Army.”

“Ah, I heard the Duke of Isiron’s son served in the Western Army.”

The Emperor nodded, then continued.

“I’ve heard you executed your duties admirably.”

Securing relief supplies and barrier stones. Instituting lockdowns per village. Establishing autonomous watch groups to maintain internal order. Deploying imperial guards to monitor them. Distributing cures via an efficient route. Promising agricultural provisions and mana ore support to conscripted laborers to make up shortages caused by the plague.

The Emperor asked, “Why agricultural supplies and mana ore of all things?”

“Because once the contagion passes, we will face a food shortage.”

“....”

“Fields of rice, barley, and wheat would have been neglected. Output will be minimal.”

“So you prepared for vigorous farming afterward—but only landowners welcome such supplies.”

“...”

“Mana ore is rare. If spent now, how will we procure it when we need it later?”

“I have solutions.”

Alexis met the Emperor’s gaze.

“First, permit the trade of relief supplies.”

“...What?”

He answered calmly:

“There will be many sellers if trading is allowed. In urgent times, they can sell what they need.”

“And?”

“The more supply, the lower the market price.”

“....”

“Then buy back at the low price.”

“Second solution?”

“Store crops.”

“The people already lack food—now tell them to stockpile?”

“If the palace stores grain and drives up market prices, farmers will work harder to profit.”

“But that burdens the palace immensely.”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“When our food crisis is resolved, other nations will be reeling from the plague.”

“Then we trade crops with them at profit... Ha.”

The Emperor laughed, increasing from a chuckle to hearty guffaws, tapping the armrest in delight.

“Excellent plan. A marvel!”

Even the courtiers who had overheard nodded and laughed.

“As expected of the Duke of Isiron’s son—renowned for his foresight. Or perhaps it suits Erilot Astra’s fiancé, famed for her vision.”

Alexis bowed, and the Emperor looked pleased.

“Continue to use your talents without reserve by my side.”

“I am honored.”

Alexis bowed and ✧ NоvеIight ✧ (Original source) exited. Just as the door closed, someone blocked his path.

“Father is greatly pleased.”

‘Salvatore.’

The cause of his birth’s exile, the Empress Consort Oselia’s son, who sent countless assassins after him. Salvatore remarked flatly:

“You lack even basic courtesies toward royalty.”

Alexis lifted the pendant at his neck. Salvatore snorted.

“So the Twin-Dragon Crest went to you this time?”

“As the Emperor’s envoy, I cannot bow to a mere prince.”

“Mere prince?”

“Is that not so?”

“You—”

“My duties are pressing.”

Alexis brushed past Salvatore. The prince’s aide protested.

“How rude—!”

“....”

Salvatore’s gaze on Alexis’s departing back was chilling.

Alexis walked on in silence. In an empty corridor, Teroine—whom he’d met at the Academy and taken as a lady-in-waiting—approached.

“Your expression has clouded since entering the palace.”

“My mind is restless.”

A hot surge churned within him since his return to the palace, as if reliving the fugitive days fleeing the Empress Consort’s assassins. A strange blend of rage and fervor lashed like chains at his ankles.

Teroine lowered her head.

“Understandably so, Your Highness.”

“...”

As Alexis’s heavy-lidded eyes met the corridor’s end, the Communication Stone rang. He connected, and a familiar voice burst forth.

[How did it go? Huh?!]

Erilot. Her voice thrummed with even greater tension, and Alexis laughed.

“It went well.”

[Did I make an impression? Did I stamp them with my mark? Tell me! How did the conversation flow? Hurry, speak!]

“You’ll suffocate at that pace.”

[I thought you really might!]

“I’m not livestock for sale.”

[You’re in more dangerous territory than a market, obviously!]

“No problems. If this continues, everyone in the capital will have the cure within a week.”

[Not that—I mean you. Did it upset you meeting royalty?]

“...”

[Who cares? You did fine. Who are you anyway?]

Someone who, despite never receiving parental affection, never despaired—she made him believe in himself. She was that person.

“How is training with Kalli? She teaches well—best warrior, after all... Wait, what’s that mark on your face!”

“Let it be. I was injured during training.”

“They beat you enough to leave bruises? Those bastards...!”

“What do you want from me?”

“Huh?”

“If you want me strong, train me harshly. If you worry, stop them from hurting me.”

“That’s my dilemma, you see.”

“...What?”

“I want you strong enough to protect yourself, yet I get angry when you get hurt.”

“....”

“You lack consistency.”

Never since meeting her had he slept peacefully—an inexplicable creature who appeared when his heart ached. He hated others’ worry more than death, yet with her, the greatest worry was him—and that comforted him.

“...I’m foolish, aren’t I.”

[Who calls you foolish? Who did that?!]

“It’s nothing.”

[Then why say it? Name them. I’ll—]

“You, of all people, call me foolish most.”

[...I have no reply to that.]

Alexis chuckled. Teroine watched in astonishment. Erilot Astra was like the wind to him—ungraspable, sometimes a storm that tore through his heart, yet the one who drove away his darkest clouds and let the sun shine.

Teroine’s Communication Stone blinked urgently. She checked it swiftly.

“Lord Alexis!”

Alexis disconnected from Erilot and looked at Teroine. She said urgently:

“A mature Despair has appeared in Sector 17 of the capital...!”

“It’s cured there already. Then why—”

“They haven’t reported the cause. But Lady Dalia Astra seems to be confronting the Despair adult.”

Alexis’s expression hardened.

“I must go, Erilot.”

[An adult Despair... Even you— Alexis? Alex—is gone.]

He departed at speed toward Sector 17.