The Villainess Just Wants to Study

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟒

"Is that all you can do?" Sir Conan asked with a frown, looming over where she was crouched on the floor. "Now I understand why the doctor advised milady to engage in physical activity. You weren't even running, and look at you."

"He said light physical activity," Dylan said in between breaths, emphasizing the word 'light.'

Sir Conan sighed, extending a hand to assist her. "Lady Dylan, your condition is more concerning than I initially believed. At this rate, wielding a sword might be out of the question."

Dylan gratefully accepted his hand, rising to her bone-tired feet. "Honestly, I don't think this training is the right fit for me," she admitted. "My priority is graduating with a diploma. Studying is what truly matters."

"Getting involved in activities outside of school can help you meet new people," Conan advised, holding out a wooden sword for her to take. "It's how you build connections and gain allies as a noble. This is something you need to learn."

Dylan frowned, hesitantly accepting it with an exhausted arm. She didn't feel the need to build connections because her plan involved leaving the Duke's mansion and relinquishing her noble status after graduation. That was one of the reasons why she avoided attending social gatherings altogether.

In the novel, Dylan revelled in social gatherings, she mused. Her tarnished reputation stemmed from her behaviour at these events. It's simpler to just steer clear of them.

"Now, give me fifty sweeps."

Dylan hesitated. "Fifty?"

She observed Conan's demonstration—a sweeping motion with his large sword, moving seamlessly from one side to another in a swift, practiced movement. His blade seemed like an extension of his arm, synchronized with his actions as if it were an extra limb.

Dylan glanced down at herself with an expression of embarrassment. The wooden sword looked awkward in her arms, as if it had been misplaced and picked up by a stranger. She bit her bottom lip, inwardly cursing Doctor Peregrine, before attempting to lift it with great difficulty.

~

"M, milady," Mina stammered, gently tugging at the bundle of blankets Dylan had cocooned herself in. "It's time to eat and take your medicine."

Dylan, wrapped from head to toe, wriggled around on her bed like a cocooned creature. Mina watched the squirming mass of blankets with a slightly panicked expression, unsure of how to lure Dylan out.

"Hah." The tightly wrapped pile of blankets released a long sigh. "I just want to rest a bit more."

"You can't!" Mina protested. "His Grace sent me to wake you and make sure you eat!"

"My head is pounding, and the light is unbearable, so I can't come out."

"B, but," Mina's eyes drooped with a hint of sadness. "Lady Dylan, I've already closed your curtains. There's absolutely no light—none at all!"

"I have a fever."

It wasn't a complete lie. Dylan had pushed herself too hard when her body wasn't ready, and she was certain she'd catch a cold.

"Then you should come out so we can properly examine you!" her maid scolded, tugging at the blankets once more. "You know how serious it is when milady falls ill."

Dylan hesitated. "I have a nasty skin rash. It's super contagious—you should run and hide."

Mina sighed in defeat as she collapsed onto the side of Dylan's bed. The sun was already shining, and Dylan had wasted most of her day sleeping. She had even skipped both breakfast and lunch, refusing to leave her cocoon of warm blankets.

"Perhaps I should tell you about that thing," Mina said, her voice trailing off near the end of her sentence.

The cocoon rolled over, nearly knocking Mina off the bed. "What thing?" it asked.

"A carriage from Faerchester arrived a little while ago," Mina explained, smiling victoriously. "His Grace was going to tell you once you got up."

No way, she thought, did my Black Coat arrive?

"Eat first, and then we'll go," the maid said, gently placing a tray of warm potato soup in front of Dylan's cocoon. "You also have to take your medicine."