"The mistress is calling for you."
Hearing these words, I immediately straightened up and froze in place. Just a second ago, I had been pacing nervously around the first-floor living room, but now my heart in my chest seemed determined to take a running start before a final leap.
My excitement had reached its peak.
"All right..." I exhaled and nodded, then followed the maid to the second floor.
I tried my hardest to maintain a calm, composed expression, even though inside I was trembling with tension. Each step echoed dully somewhere in my chest with a racing heartbeat.
Of course, I was nervous before our first meeting.
How could I not be nervous when so much depended on it?
As we climbed the stairs to the mistress’s room, the maid — a sweet girl who was clearly very anxious herself — continued to give me hurried instructions:
"Please try not to speak too loudly. The mistress does not like that."
"All right," I nodded.
"And... please do not touch her unnecessarily."
"...I understand."
I nodded again, trying to remember every word she said.
"Oh, and also..." The girl hesitated for a moment and looked away. "The mistress might speak somewhat... harshly. Especially with those she sees for the first time. But please, do not take it to heart, all right?"
By this point, we had stopped in front of the door to the room.
I paused and took a deep breath, trying to calm not so much her as myself.
"Do not worry," I said softly, trying to keep my voice confident. "I understand we are talking about a sick person. I will be patient."
"Still..." Asha — I think that was the maid’s name — shifted noticeably from foot to foot, and her voice carried genuine concern. "If the mistress does say something rude... please do not be offended! She... she really does not mean any harm! It is just that she is in pain, and she cannot always control herself..."
The girl looked as if she were trying to apologize in advance for her mistress’s behavior.
As if she were afraid that if the mistress uttered even one harsh word, I would immediately turn around and leave without looking back.
And that, apparently, could not be allowed under any circumstances.
Because I was far too valuable a person.
It seemed the maid was genuinely worried that I might run away at any moment...
But honestly, no matter how many rude things I might hear, I had absolutely no intention of doing that.
If anything, they should be worried that now they would not be able to get rid of me.
I smiled, trying to calm her down a little.
"Do not worry. I..."
However, I was not allowed to finish.
From behind the door, an irritated female voice suddenly rang out:
"How much longer are you going to stand there discussing me behind the door?"
It seemed the mistress of the room had heard every single word we said.
The maid immediately flinched in fright and fell silent, lowering her gaze guiltily.
"Come in already," came the same rough voice again, though fatigue was clearly noticeable in it.
I hesitated for a moment, then nodded briefly to Asha, took the door handle, and stepped inside.
Quietly closing the door behind me, I found myself in a room almost completely shrouded in darkness.
The only source of light was a lonely lamp on the bedside table — dim, barely flickering, as if even its faint warmth were unwelcome here.
The room was so dark that I had to move almost by touch, carefully placing my feet so as not to accidentally bump into the furniture.
But I still immediately noticed the figure on the bed — a blurred silhouette illuminated by the weak, trembling light.
And without hesitation, I walked straight toward it.
When I got closer to the bed, I immediately bowed my head respectfully:
"Greetings, Your Grace."
Even knowing that the woman before me could see neither my bow nor my face, I lowered my head deeply without the slightest hesitation. Then I slowly straightened up, raising my gaze.
And at that very moment...
Ah.
I think this is the end.
Please, someone, arrest this woman immediately for her beauty, otherwise I really might have a heart attack right now!
The villainess of the novel "Actually, I Was the Real Saint" — a woman with a strong, noble physique, dressed in a simple white shirt. Even sitting on the bed with a blindfold over her eyes, her very presence filled the room with an invisible but almost tangible pressure.
Her crimson hair was slightly disheveled, and this light carelessness only emphasized the aristocratic sharpness of her facial features: thin arched eyebrows, high cheekbones, a straight nose line... and her amber eyes, which had been described countless times in the novel, were now hidden beneath a thick dark blindfold.
Her shirt collar was slightly unbuttoned, revealing the elegant line of her neck and collarbones.
Her aura — calm, heavy, overwhelming — literally pinned me in place. I stood motionless, unable to even move.
"Am I really seeing her with my own eyes?.."
This thought flashed through my mind, and an admiring sigh almost escaped my lips.
Kayla Regwerd.
"The Crimson Shadow of the Empire."
One of the legendary heroes who once put an end to the monster invasion.
But for me, all these titles meant absolutely nothing right now.
Because before me stood the person I had admired for so long. The one I had previously only been able to see in illustrations, on my phone screen, and between the lines of my favorite novel, rereading the same Chapters over and over again.
And now she was right in front of me.
In the same room as me.
And this felt almost unreal.
I was still standing as if enchanted, unable to take my eyes off the woman of my dreams, when she suddenly interrupted my thoughts in a low, slightly hoarse voice:
"So you are the woman who supposedly possesses divine power?"
"...Yes, that is me," I barely managed to pull myself together and replied hastily.
My voice sounded a little hoarse, as if I had not breathed for too long.
Kayla Regwerd.
The current Grand Duchess and head of House Regwerd.
But for me — simply my sun!
She frowned slightly, and the thin crease between her eyebrows somehow made her even more beautiful.
"Then tell me in more detail. Who are you and where did you come from?"
I was still struggling immensely to gather my thoughts so I could speak coherently and — what was even harder — not get distracted every second by her face.
"My name is Eva Rider," I began, trying to keep my voice calm and steady. "As I already said during the interview with your butler, I am a refugee from the southern outskirts. I came to the capital looking for work..."
I expected Kayla to start asking me about my background — where I was born, who my parents were, and how I had ended up on the doorstep of her mansion in the first place. But instead, she only frowned slightly and thought for a moment, as if her attention had been caught by something far more important than my boring biography.
"Your voice..." the villainess said thoughtfully, tilting her head slightly to the side. "Why does it sound familiar to me?"
A chill immediately ran down my spine.
My heart skipped a beat.
"F-familiar?.." I asked cautiously, hoping the tremor in my voice was not too noticeable.
"Yes," she nodded slowly.
And even this simple movement of her head looked surprisingly graceful and somewhat predatory in her execution.
"I feel as if I have heard it before."
For a moment, I felt as if I had stopped breathing.
"Th-that is... impossible!" I objected too hastily. "As I already said, I am just a refugee from a village on the southern outskirts. Where could I possibly have met Your Grace? And how could you have heard my voice?"
My argument, at least from a logical standpoint, sounded quite reasonable.
Kayla was silent for a few more seconds, as if mentally weighing my words.
And then she sighed quietly.
This exhale sounded tired... and somehow almost disappointed.
It seemed that in the end, she decided to drop the thought.
At least, I very much wanted to hope so.
"...So you truly possess holy power?" Kayla Regwerd finally asked, returning to the most important thing.
To the reason why I had ended up in this house in the first place.
To the reason why I had been hired.
"O-of course!"
At that moment, I had mentally prepared myself to recite the pre-planned legend — a beautiful story about how I had supposedly accidentally discovered divine power within myself.
But as it turned out, Kayla had no intention of listening to that at all.
"Then prove it right now."
Her voice was even and commanding, leaving no room for objection whatsoever.
I was momentarily taken aback by such directness, but quickly pulled myself together.
"As you wish!" I answered immediately.
Without hesitating another second, I stepped closer and gently touched her forehead.
My fingertips met warm skin, slightly damp with barely noticeable perspiration.
Kayla Regwerd first tensed noticeably — someone else’s touch was clearly unfamiliar to her, almost unpleasant. But the next moment, her expression faltered.
And changed.
Because she truly felt it.
The holy power emanating from my fingertips spread softly but confidently through her body — warm, alive, healing energy. It gradually eased the pain that had tormented her day after day, month after month. The very pain that Kayla had almost grown accustomed to, but that still never fully released her.
Now she looked stunned.
No medicine she had managed to obtain in all this time had given even a tenth of such an effect. And just one brief touch from me had been enough to make her persistent headache begin to recede.
She took a deep breath — so deep that it seemed she had not done so in a very long time.
Finishing the brief procedure, I slowly pulled back. My fingers trembled slightly — whether from nervousness or from the emotions overwhelming me.
"How... do you feel?" I asked quietly, although the answer already seemed written on her face.
Because of the blindfold, Kayla could not see anything. And yet, at that moment, I had a strange feeling that she raised her head slightly and "looked" directly at me. Through the fabric. Through the darkness. Through everything.
From this invisible but almost physically tangible "gaze," my nervousness involuntarily increased.
And suddenly — instead of a comment about my abilities or even a restrained word of gratitude — the woman abruptly grabbed my hand and pressed it back against her forehead.
"More," she demanded.
In truth, at that moment I hesitated a little.
Performing more than one purification procedure at a time was not entirely safe — it increased the strain on the body. Usually, once a day was more than enough.
But... since Kayla herself was asking, how could I refuse her?
Besides, she had suffered for so long. Had lived with this pain for so long.
My heart simply could not take it.
I thought: if I break the rule just once, nothing bad will happen... right?
"All right," I answered quietly.
Keeping my hand on her forehead, I performed the procedure again. This time, I put in a little more power — just to be sure. To make sure her headache truly subsided. So that, for at least a few hours, she could feel real relief.
And it worked.
When I pulled back again, the villainess’s expression became noticeably softer. The tense crease between her eyebrows disappeared, her clenched lips relaxed.
She even looked a little sleepy — as if the procedure had immediately made her feel drowsy.
This kind of reaction to holy power was fairly common, so I was not even surprised.
"Your Grace, do you have any further orders for me?"
Kayla had already lain down on the bed — as if she really intended to fall asleep right then — and lazily waved her hand:
"No... Go."
"All right," I was about to take my leave and quietly exit so as not to disturb her rest.
But at that moment, her voice sounded again — quiet, almost sleepy, as if already on the verge of sleep:
"You... I do not remember what your name is."
My heart skipped a beat for a moment.
"My name is Eva...!" I immediately responded eagerly, delighted at the chance to repeat my name as many times as necessary. But it was not needed.
"Never mind..." she murmured, already drifting off to sleep. "Just... come again tomorrow."
"Of course!"
Once the villainess was asleep, I should have left the room immediately.
But instead, I lingered.
For another minute.
For a few more moments.
After all, today my eyes had also received, as it were, their own "purification" — just looking at her made them almost water from the emotions overwhelming me. I truly could not believe I was seeing this with my own eyes.
Very quietly, almost on tiptoe, I stepped closer again to the bed where the villainess was sleeping a rare, truly deep sleep.
I just looked at her.
At this face — alive, real, not drawn on pages or captured on a screen.
And at that moment, I understood: I did not regret dying and being reborn in this world one bit.
Because, it seemed, only now had my life truly found meaning.
"Kayla... my treasure..." I whispered, already almost reaching out to touch the face of my favorite character, whom I could now see in person.
But I sharply stopped myself just in time.
No. Stop.
Even if you love her that much — you cannot touch sleeping people!
I am not some kind of maniac, right?..
Though, honestly, with each passing second, that conviction became less and less convincing.
And, to be frank, I had already begun to doubt whether I could handle any of this at all...