I Am the Villainess

Chapter XVIII: Verity 2

"Why," Corbeau's anguished cry reverberated through the air as Delora materialized beside him, still clutching the lifeless body in his arms. As she peered down at the disfigured face of the deceased, a putrid stench filled her nostrils, the body having decayed under the sun for two days.

"The night you left, this man found me here. He tried to take my life, so I defended myself," she lied, the rain cascading down on both of them, concealing her emotions.

Corbeau's voice quivered with agony and pain as two heart-wrenching words escaped his lips, "My brother."

In an instant, Delora grasped the horrifying truth – the life she had taken belonged to Corbeau's younger brother. 

"That's my brother," Corbeau's uncontrollable screams echoed in the rain, his trembling hands gently moving his brother's brown hair away from his lifeless face.

"He should have never come here," Delora's voice remained devoid of emotion, her words laced with lies and self-preservation. Though she believed he should never have followed her, the blame she passed onto the victim weighed heavily upon her.

In a surge of fury, Corbeau rose from the ground, catching Delora off-guard. Before she could comprehend what had happened, a cold blade pressed against her throat, its sharp edge slicing her skin. She held her ground, her gaze locked in a tense confrontation with Corbeau.

"You killed my brother," Corbeau's confusion mingled with determination as he sought retribution for the death of the last member of his family. 

"I was protecting myself," her lie was swift, rehearsed to perfection.

Corbeau's mind was a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. He had spoken to his brother about Delora, sharing some details about her identity, but he couldn't fathom why his brother would have sought her out. The pieces didn't fit together, and he found himself torn between grief and doubt. The two people he held closest to his heart now stood before him – one dead and one alive. The one he loved had killed the other.

Lowering his dagger from Delora's throat, desperation replaced anger. In this moment, Delora saw a side of Corbeau she had never witnessed before. He had always appeared impassive, unyielding to emotions. But now, grief had shattered his façade, revealing the depth of his pain and vulnerability. She saw this as an opportunity to manipulate him further. 

"If I knew, I would have never killed him," Delora lied again, desperately attempting to regain control of the unfolding tragedy. "I'm truly sorry, Corbeau."

Her words fell upon his ears like shards of broken glass, stirring an emotion he had never displayed to her before – hatred. Corbeau's eyes bore into her, searching for truth and finding only the painful void of deceit.

 In that moment, he stood at a crossroads, torn between conflicting emotions and uncertainty. He had no concrete evidence and couldn't fully grasp the situation, but the love he once held for Delora had withered away. What remained was a lingering attachment, a faint glimmer of hope that perhaps his brother had indeed initiated the confrontation and that his demise was a result of his own actions, not Delora's dark intentions. Corbeau was now bereft of family, with no one to rely on but the very woman standing before him, the one who taken it all away.

After the death of his brother, Corbeau vanished for a month, carrying his sibling's lifeless body with him. Delora believed she had lost him forever, resigned to the idea that he would never return. However, one fateful night, a drunken and broken Corbeau stumbled back into her life. His heart was still wounded, unable to fully mend from the pain he endured.

Welcoming him back, Delora allowed him to stay by her side once again. Yet, beneath the surface of his intentions, something sinister lurked. Corbeau made several attempts on Delora's life, but each time, he faltered, unable to deal the final blow. Doubt gnawed at him, clouding the truth of that fateful night, and the fear of loneliness after her demise held him back. Despite his hatred for her, a deep and bitter love entwined with his animosity.

Delora was well aware of Corbeau's conflicted feelings, but she chose to ignore them, using him as a faithful, obedient companion. As months passed, he played the role of her servant, suppressing his inner turmoil while harboring his vengeful desires. However, everything changed when he heard the prophecy. In that moment, he saw an opportunity to be part of her inevitable downfall, as long as he wasn't the one delivering the final blow.

Valeria, a mysterious figure, entered the scene, offering Corbeau freedom. She offered him the chance to free himself from the weight of his emotions, promising vengeance and peace in return. Despite his uncertainty about how Valeria knew his struggles, he cared little for the source. To him, she was the answer to his problems, the key to breaking free from these rotten emotions, even though a part of him still clung to his conflicted love for her.

Delora's mind snapped back to reality, the weight of her past actions rushing in like a torrent. In a swift gesture, she ignited the candles scattered around the dark room, casting an eerie glow on the haunting memories that haunted her. Seating herself on the bed, she let out a long, heavy sigh. The memories brought back the bitter taste of remorse for the lies she had spun to keep Corbeau by her side.

She was well aware that the only thread keeping him attached to her, and sparing her life, was the doubt he held about his brother's death. Once the truth was unveiled, she knew her fate would be sealed. She couldn't blame him for seeking vengeance; after all, she understood the consuming desire for retribution all too well. Delora accepted that when the time came, she would allow him to have his revenge.

Although for now, she would not be forgiving if Corbeau stood in her way before she was able to achieve her own revenge. She would eliminate anyone standing in her way. With Zephyr's aid, she might be able to gain the upper hand on Valeria's strange knowledge. 

Deep down, she knew Corbeau was actively working towards his own vengeance, a fact she acknowledged. However, there was something she understood even more clearly – Corbeau lacked the courage to take her life himself. Though he harbored hatred towards her, a twisted love still lingered, preventing him from dealing the fatal blow. That was the advantage she still had over Corbeau. His heart was weak.