How Could the Villainous Young Master Be a Saintess?

Things... seemed a little not good.

‘[Virtue +400].’

‘[Current Virtue: 10294].’

‘[Virtue +250].’

‘[Current Virtue: 10544].’

Just looking at that string of Virtue changes made Vinny feel like something was seriously not right.

What the hell was going on? This Virtue burst was way too exaggerated, wasn’t it?!

Even if it was Mirexia—honestly, even with Mirexia, Vinny had never seen Virtue spike this hard. Hundreds at a time.

On the other side, Mirexia instinctively wanted to refute it, but for a moment she didn’t know how.

If Isatia did something like that, what identity was Mirexia supposed to use to refute it? Vinny’s childhood friend?

Even Mirexia felt that identity didn’t carry enough weight. It would be meddling too far.

“This is... a public place.” After a long silence, Mirexia seemed to finally find a reason that was at least somewhat reasonable. She said it in the same calm, cold tone as always—only this time, the “cold” part seemed to take up more of it. It almost felt icy.

“The rules of this café seem to only forbid loud noise and making too much of a disturbance that affects others. I don’t believe there’s any rule in there that forbids someone from feeding another person cake.” Isatia took a calm sip of coffee.

“Or is it that Mirexia is the type with conservative, traditional views—someone who can’t stand seeing this sort of thing?”

“Then I’m sorry. I truly didn’t expect that even after choosing such an out-of-the-way seat, we’d still be run into by someone else.” Isatia said that, but there wasn’t the slightest hint in her words that she felt apologetic about what she’d done. She was still composed—steady, unruffled, and full-voiced.

The tone and phrasing gave both Vinny and Mirexia, listening at the side, a very subtle feeling—like Isatia had deliberately chosen this spot, like whatever she wanted to do had already been arranged in her mind, and Mirexia was the variable that hadn’t been accounted for.

As if it wasn’t Isatia who ought to apologize for her behavior, but Mirexia who should apologize for interrupting her process. After all, she’d already chosen a corner so remote that nobody should have seen anything. And yet she still got caught—how unlucky could you get?

It even carried an unspoken implication of: If you’re too conservative and don’t want to see it, you can avoid it.

Of course, that was only what Vinny felt. Maybe it was just his imagination. He figured Isatia probably didn’t think that way.

...Probably.

He suddenly remembered how, when they entered the café, Isatia had told him to find somewhere quiet, then led him straight to that corner. At the time, he hadn’t thought anything of it.

“Ahem—uh, Mirexia, we really are just studying! Isatia was joking with me just now!” Vinny could only try to smooth things over, even though his own attempt sounded unconvincing.

But what else could he do? Maybe his attention had been completely on Isatia. Mirexia had crashed in like a runaway carriage—no time to react at all. And her timing was absurdly perfect: it was right when Isatia had him hard-controlled. A second earlier or later and it wouldn’t have been like this. He was literally about to plan a bathroom escape, and it had to be right then.

“If there’s something you don’t understand... you can ask me.” After a short silence, Mirexia said it dully.

Even to Vinny’s ears, that line tasted way too sour.

“Mirexia, that would be letting down Vinny’s goodwill.” Before Vinny could speak, Isatia spoke first. Her voice was perfectly flat—no rise or fall of emotion—as she explained on his behalf.

“As Student Council President, Mirexia is extremely busy, burdened by paperwork and exhausting responsibilities—especially after the Kamov Mountain incident. Vinny didn’t want to disturb you over something like this. On the contrary, my work is relatively less busy. I’ve already handled most of it, so I have more free time. Besides, Vinny has always had an agreement with me. Coming to me is simply more convenient.”

Yes—reasonable and well-supported. It was basically what Vinny had wanted to say. There was nothing wrong with Isatia’s words.

But coming out of her mouth, with her tone and her wording, it gained a subtle implication.

Because Vinny explaining it himself, and Isatia explaining it for him, were two completely different things.

The way she said it made it sound like, for Vinny, when it came to everyday life stuff, he’d rather go to her, not Mirexia—going to Isatia was “life,” and going to Mirexia was just “work.”

Oh, hell no.

Even Vinny, who was pretty dull in this sort of area, could feel that from Isatia’s words—so how could Mirexia, who was more emotionally sensitive, not feel it?

Vinny wanted to explain a few things, but... what could he even explain? Was Isatia wrong?

She wasn’t wrong. She’d already explained what he wanted to explain. If he added more, he’d just be repeating her.

So what was he supposed to say? He couldn’t possibly nod along in front of Mirexia and go, “Yes, that’s how it is,” right??

Vinny felt like he absolutely could not say that. If he did, he’d be even more doomed!

‘[Virtue +200].’

‘[Current Virtue: 10744].’

“An agreement?” Mirexia’s brows knit slightly, and even her usually unchanging iceberg expression seemed to melt a little.

“I see—so Mirexia didn’t know about that?” Isatia tilted her head expressionlessly and looked at Mirexia. “It’s a bit complicated to explain, and in the end, it’s between Vinny and me. It could be considered our private matter.”

“Uh...” Once Isatia said that, Vinny wanted to explain, but he didn’t know where to start—because she’d already framed it as her privacy, something she didn’t want others to know.

“??”

‘[Virtue +300].’

‘[Current Virtue: 11044].’

“???” No—why did it suddenly burst that much Virtue again?!

Vinny was stunned on the side. He had no idea what ridiculous thing Mirexia had just imagined that made her explode that much Virtue.

As for Isatia, just a casual glance at Mirexia’s eyes was enough for her to roughly understand what Mirexia had guessed. Mirexia’s emotional fluctuations were far too intense—so intense that it only further confirmed one of Isatia’s suspicions.

For some reason, the corner of Isatia’s lips lifted by an almost imperceptible arc. Nobody knew what she’d thought of in that moment.

But she didn’t explain. She let Mirexia think whatever she wanted. She said nothing, and so she had to explain nothing.

“What does Isatia mean? Why would I know?” Mirexia’s cold, pretty face tightened another degree.

“Nothing. I just felt that Mirexia should know.” Isatia still didn’t clarify. She kept it vague, as if she was simply letting Mirexia guess and think her way through it—her tone relaxed and in full control.

“Isatia, I don’t remember everything. Especially agreements that are already outdated or voided—I certainly wouldn’t remember those.” Mirexia gradually recovered her usual composure.

“Of course it isn’t an outdated agreement. And even if it were outdated or voided... it seems it still has nothing to do with Mirexia.” Isatia took a light sip of coffee.

The unspoken meaning was: Mirexia didn’t have the standing to comment on this issue.

“I’m Vinny’s friend and childhood friend.”

“I know that.” Seeing Mirexia bring out that childhood-friend identity, Isatia replied without hesitation. Those noble violet eyes watched Mirexia calmly, like an emperor assessing a subject.

“My information is likely more well-informed than Mirexia’s.” Isatia continued. “From south to north across the Tyrel Empire, from the far east to the far west, I know the news like the back of my hand. And beyond the Tyrel Empire, I also hear a little.”

“For example, bits and pieces about you and Vinny... reach my ears from time to time.”

“?!” Mirexia instinctively clenched her fist slightly. That “punch” from Isatia felt like it had landed straight on her vital spot, leaving her speechless—like she couldn’t even get the words out.

Mirexia understood what Isatia was hinting at.

Isatia probably considered Vinny being present—she was sparing his face—so she only called it “bits and pieces” between Mirexia and Vinny. But what Isatia was implying, Mirexia knew very clearly.

What she was implying... was the past between Mirexia and Vinny. Before enrollment. Before that banquet where Vinny had poured red wine all over Aesphyra.

Mirexia and Vinny’s relationship was extremely subtle—no, extremely tense.

The whole Camella Royal Capital—no, the entire Camella Kingdom—knew that Vinny had pursued Mirexia like some kind of crazed guard dog, loved her and couldn’t get her, to the point that the scandal spread so far that even many foreign nobles knew about it.

Something like that naturally couldn’t escape the ears of Isatia, a Tyrel princess. Of course it would reach her.

But Isatia wasn’t like the nobles who blindly followed rumors or treated it as entertainment. She believed in hearing all sides and staying clear-headed, and she held an observant stance toward any information. To her, it was all merely for reference.

For example—rumors about Vinny’s identity and background, what he’d done in the Camella Royal Capital, what kind of person he really was. She had never fully believed those rumors.

And reality proved her approach was correct. Those false rumors about Vinny could now be stamped with the label: slander.

In Isatia’s eyes, it might be true that Vinny had pursued Mirexia... but just how “crazy” it had been, and whether that “crazy” had been exaggerated by people with ulterior motives—that was unknown.

As for the claim that Vinny had confessed to Mirexia publicly and been rejected—Isatia had also treated it with half-belief and half-doubt.

Now, she had confirmed it completely.

How did she know? Mirexia’s current gaze and expression had already told Isatia the whole truth. It was real.

With a single glance, Isatia understood everything.

That look—like she’d been hit in a weak spot, instantly unable to counterattack, sinking into shame and mental self-torment, looking like she wanted to vanish into the ground—there was no faking that.

Even though Mirexia was trying her hardest to hide it, how could Isatia not see through it? The flicker in Mirexia’s eyes just now had already sold her out completely.

She remembered it—how she had once rejected Vinny’s confession and pursuit. She remembered how excessive she had been back then. How she’d been completely unaware that Vinny had been doing it all for her—giving his kind smiles to nobles who were false and hypocritical, while throwing the greatest malice at the person who loved her most.

Isatia said nothing. She merely mentioned a “trifle,” and yet Mirexia felt as if she could hear Isatia questioning her.

Mirexia was someone with strict moral standards. Every time she recalled those things, guilt clogged her throat until she couldn’t speak. Her heart turned into a muddle of mixed flavors, to the point that she couldn’t even “counterattack” Isatia anymore.

“Damn, Mirexia, you’re amazing.” Right when Mirexia’s emotions were in turmoil, Vinny spoke.

Mirexia lifted her gaze in confusion and realized Vinny had somehow picked up the reimbursement form she’d dropped on the ground. He looked at the items crossed out on it and praised her sincerely. “No wonder it’s you, Mirexia. You finished all this work?”

As he spoke, Vinny also picked up the pen and returned everything to Mirexia.

Mirexia’s lips parted slightly, but she stayed silent.

‘[Virtue +150].’

‘[Current Virtue: 11194].’

“Isatia, can Mirexia sit here?” Vinny pointed at the seat in front of them.

“If you want.” Isatia naturally wouldn’t refuse Vinny’s request.

“Mirexia, just sit here. No need to find another seat.” Vinny said. “Okay?”

“...Mm.” Mirexia pondered for a moment, then nodded. She took her paper and pen and sat down. She looked at Vinny, then her gaze fell onto Isatia.

When Isatia noticed Mirexia watching her, she didn’t look back. She just read her own book and stopped speaking.

In Isatia’s eyes, this was already something that didn’t need to be worried about at all.

Once that thin layer of paper had been pierced—once a confession was made and that confession was rejected—no matter what either person thought before and after, no matter what kind of closeness they had once shared, no matter what changes might happen later... that barrier couldn’t be erased.

Or rather—if their relationship had been better and closer before, then after the rejection, things would become even more awkward. In the end, they wouldn’t even be able to maintain friendship. They’d become two parallel lines that would never intersect again.

Even if, later on, one of them developed feelings like that, that barrier would keep leaping out like an inner demon, obstructing them, forcibly separating them.

Just from Mirexia’s eyes, Isatia could tell: as the one who had rejected him, Mirexia knew this was awkward and damaging to their relationship—but she had still underestimated its power. She had underestimated its impact on Vinny.

It was like... some things, once lost, were simply lost. One day, you suddenly realize you need that thing and want to pick it back up—but the possibility is too small. Something thrown away to who-knows-which street corner and which intersection—how could you possibly retrieve it?

Most likely, Vinny would, from now on, avoid thinking about that kind of possibility with Mirexia—because if he confessed again and got rejected again, then the two of them truly wouldn’t even be able to remain friends.

And Isatia could see it: Vinny absolutely did not want to reach the point where he couldn’t even be friends with Mirexia.

Isatia understood deeply that each person’s personality was built from decades of experience, stacked layer by layer.

So she guessed that perhaps Vinny’s hesitance to take initiative in relationships... was something Mirexia had created.