Villain's Odyssey: Enslaving heroines, Conquering Villainesses Chapter 12: Camella

Seated on an extravagant bed was a young lady.

Golden, orb-like eyes stared blankly ahead, frad by hair that shimred almost like sunlight—its waves cascading down her back, loosely held by a braid. A few strands spilled over her forehead, giving her an air of sophisticated beauty. Her face was smooth, pale, and finely sculpted—delicate yet noble. She wore a sleeping gown that veiled the figure she’d grown into over the years, though it did little to hide the allure beneath. What truly drew eyes to her wasn’t just the angelic face, but the aura she exuded—one that had made the prince determined to have her by any ans.

The gown, simple in design for indoor wear, clung subtly to her body, the silk hugging too tightly in places where it stretched. The modest cut at the front hinted at the burden she carried on her chest—graceful, restrained, but undeniably present.

Click.

The door opened quietly, but she didn’t shift her gaze from the mirror.

"My lady," the maid’s voice broke the silence, tinged with concern.

Calla hadn’t been the sa since the day she woke and learned what had happened to Azalea—how he’d been expelled, how he’d vanished that very day. Since then, she had refused to leave her room, ignoring even her father’s summons. Letters from friends went unanswered. Gifts were left unopened. Even the prince himself, during his personal visit, had been turned away.

"What is it, Valerie?" she asked, her voice drained, her eyes fixed on the large window through which sunlight poured and breathed life into the room.

"Your friends... Lady Isabelle and Maria. They’re here to see you."

The mont she heard those nas, sothing clenched sharply in her chest.

"Send them away," she said without hesitation, her eyes still glued to the window, her expression unreadable.

"Un-understood," the maid stamred, bowing quickly before retreating.

Calla sat still for a long while. Then, she slowly raised her hand and gazed at her palm.

Why? she thought.

Why did it have to end like this?

Az...

She had always seen it—the exhaustion in his eyes, the frustration he tried so hard to mask with a smile whenever he spoke with her. She’d t him through Isabelle, during her fourteenth birthday, the last son of Lady Montez.

Back then, he was known as the boy who couldn’t awaken, the cowardly trash of Nevana.

But he didn’t match the rumors.

Sure, he was a bit of a crybaby...

Okay, scratch that—he was a huge crybaby.

"Hehe," she chuckled softly. Tears slid silently down her cheeks.

But he wasn’t a bad person. Not even close.

A coward? Far from it.

She’d seen him wounded—again and again. Her curiosity had led her to investigate and discover that he had been fighting all along.

From birth, he had been cursed to be weak, to live in the shadow of the na Nevana. But he fought against it.

He saved her once.

No—many tis.

And at first, she hadn’t even realized it was him.

The secret letters warning her of dangers if she didn’t act... the masked lunatic with potions who appeared during the second sester’s final exam, when her team had abandoned her and she was cornered—she nearly died that day.

So guy had stepped in. Couldn’t even tie his mask right—made him look like an idiot.

"Hahaha..." More tears fell. Her laugh trembled.

He had saved her, again and again—tis she rembered, and probably many more she never would.

He saved the others too. But they were too caught up in their own worlds to realize soone had been risking his life for them all along.

She had tried to get him to open up.

But he never let her in.

He always hid his true self.

Maybe... maybe he would’ve opened up if it were Isabelle.

But she hadn’t even sensed it.

He only ever cared about her.

Yet she had been too selfish to see it.

"...Sigh..." She exhaled shakily.

Her fists clenched tightly in her lap.

She had co to love him.

They had spent ti together—monts she forced him to share after even Isabelle and the others began neglecting him. After all, he was just an alchemist. The rest of them were combat mages or swordsn—no one had ti for soone like him.

So he was always alone.

And it was then the feelings began.

They talked. The idiot would end up crying over the smallest things.

It was annoying.

But she never hated it.

He was just... too human.

That was what struck her. He was the most sincere person she had ever t. And yes, he was weak too.

That part did annoy him.

And she used it, sotis, to tease him.

He spoke of a peaceful life. That’s all he wanted—just to be happy.

And with ti, she began to imagine that life with him. Far from the scheming, the politics, the lies. Just the two of them—free from everything.

She fell. Slowly, but deeply.

She couldn’t deny it.

But she realized, eventually... sothing was wrong with him.

Aside from the constant crying and his idiotic grin, there was sothing else.

Sothing broken.

Sotis, when he spoke or stared off into space, she sensed it—that hollow emptiness.

He sounded like soone who had lost everything. Soone who was simply waiting for the end.

It broke her heart.

She ca to understand sothing.

That emptiness inside him—he had hidden it so well, but it blinded him to the feelings she had been throwing right in his face.

Back then, she used to think he liked Isabelle, with how close they were.

But he didn’t.

She understood.

He couldn’t.

There was sothing inside him that wouldn’t let him love anyone.

Click.

Her head turned slightly, her golden eyes darkening.

"I said I didn’t want to talk to anyone," she said coldly.

"...Sigh... Calla, what’s wrong?"