I Became the Villain Chapter 128: The Road Paved with Intentions

Chapter 128: The Road Paved with Intentions

"Is he really going? To the North? To accompany that person?"

The whisper came from behind a curtain of heavy silk, the voices of two court ladies overlapping in a rush of hushed whispers.

"The King’s favoritism of that villain is one thing, but sending Lord Philia into that wasteland? It’s barbaric. I heard the snow there eats the sun alive."

"Oh, hush. I heard it was Lord Philia himself who practically begged to go. Seems like he’s trying very hard to look noble. Honestly, isn’t it just a bit... dim-witted? After the way Lord Cherion treated him? If I were him, I’d simply keep my distance and have nothing more to do with him."

Right in the middle of all the gossip and whispers stood Philia.

He didn’t look like a man preparing for a journey into the mouth of winter. He looked like a painting. As servants scurried in and out of the courtyard with the frantic, silent urgency of ants, Philia stood by the lead carriage, overseeing the loading of crates that cost more than a village earned in a decade.

There were piles of fabric, soft silks and thick, fur-lined brocades. There were rare medicinal ingredients preserved in crystal vials, and delicate trinkets that glinted in the sunlight. On the manifest, these were listed as "Gifts of Royal Favor." A gesture of care from a King who clearly missed his favorite, Cherion.

He heard the whispers. He heard the guards muttering about his "naivety" near the barracks. He heard the kitchen maids calling him a fool for going after a man who had once tried to ruin him. He heard the nobles scoffing at his "softness."

And he ignored every single syllable. Or rather, he let them wash over him, filing each insult and each pitying look away into a mental ledger that he would, eventually, balance. He didn’t defend his honor. He didn’t correct the rumors that he was "too kind for his own good." Why bother? If the world wanted to believe he was a fragile, selfless lamb wandering into the wolf’s den, he was more than happy to let them keep the wool over their eyes. It would make everything easier when the time came.

It had been a week since the King had granted his blessing for this "mercy mission." A week of frantic preparation, of choosing the right perfumes to mask the smell of Northern soot, and of ensuring that every person in the palace knew exactly how much he was "sacrificing" for the sake of Cherion’s well-being.

Now, the day of departure had finally arrived.

Standing beside him, acting as a human barrier against the prying eyes of the court, was Yerel. The Crown Prince was, as always, a masterclass in effortless composure. He looked like the future of the kingdom personified, broad-shouldered, calm, and wearing a smile that never quite reached his eyes.

"I find myself envying the road, Philia," Yerel remarked, his voice smooth as aged wine . He adjusted the collar of Philia’s traveling cloak. "I wish I could go with you."

Philia offered a soft smile. "You have a kingdom to run, Your Highness. Or at least, the parts of it your father hasn’t handed over to his ministers yet. Everything will be fine. It’s just a bit of snow and a very stubborn man at the end of the road."

Yerel’s expression darkened, just a fraction. He took Philia’s hand, his grip firm, almost possessive. "If Cherion tries anything... if he so much as looks at you with that viper’s tongue of his, you are to send a message immediately. Do not ’endure’ it for the sake of peace. I will go North myself and teach him a lesson in manners that he won’t soon forget. He’s been away from the capital’s shadow for too long; he’s forgotten who holds the leash."

Philia chuckled, a light, melodic sound that didn’t betray the cold calculation running through his mind. "You’re far too protective, Your Highness. But I suppose I find it charming."

From the far end of the hall, the King appeared, flanked by a small army of advisors. His steps were a bit more measured, but the light of favor in his eyes when they landed on Philia was unmistakable. He offered a few words of parting, something about safety and "family bonds