Never Die Villain

"Pardon me, where is Father?"

The servant hesitated before lowering his head.

"The Master is... unwell at the moment, My Lady. He has asked not to receive any visitors for the time being."

"Is that so...?"

Anastasiya looked toward the doors of Valentin’s office, waiting for several seconds as though she expected them to open anyway. When nothing happened, she slowly nodded and adjusted the training sword she carried under her arm.

"Never mind, then. I’ll ask the knights for some pointers."

And so, Anastasiya worked hard.

She had wanted to ask Valentin for help now that she had finally decided to take her position as his successor seriously.

There were countless things she didn’t understand, and if she was truly going to become Grand Duchess one day, then there was no one better to teach her than the man currently holding the title.

When she returned the following week, however, the answer remained the same.

"The Master has yet to recover, My Lady. He said he will see you soon."

"Uhm... okay."

Anastasiya looked toward the closed doors again.

"Could you tell him I came by?"

"Of course, My Lady."

"Thank you."

She returned to the training grounds alone.

Another week passed.

"Father still isn’t available?"

"My apologies, My Lady."

"Oh."

Anastasiya hugged the books she had brought with her closer to her chest.

"...Tomorrow, maybe?"

"Perhaps."

Tomorrow came and went.

Then another.

Before Anastasiya realized it, a week had become a month.

Valentin stopped taking meals with the family altogether, and on the rare occasions Anastasiya caught sight of him walking through the estate, he looked nothing like the father she remembered.

His beard had grown untidy, there were heavy bags under his eyes, and he would walk past people with his attention fixed somewhere else entirely, disappearing into his office before Anastasiya could gather the courage to call out to him.

Still, she continued trying.

"Could you give this to Father?"

Anastasiya handed one of the servants a notebook filled with pages of her handwriting.

"I wrote down everything I’ve learned this month. There are a few things I don’t understand yet, so I marked them for him. Tell him he doesn’t have to look through all of it. Just the parts I marked would be enough."

"I’ll make sure His Grace receives it."

Anastasiya smiled. "Thank you."

Several days later, she found the notebook sitting untouched on a table outside his office.

She picked it up without saying anything.

After that, Anastasiya began relying more heavily on the knights.

She trained until the skin on her palms split, forced herself through lessons she once would have abandoned halfway through, and started paying attention whenever the adults discussed matters she had previously found unbearably boring.

Whenever she struggled, she reminded herself that Ilya was in no condition to take her place anymore, and whenever she wanted to run to Valentin for help, she remembered the closed doors waiting for her at the end of the hallway.

Months passed.

"Lady Anastasiya."

One of the knights lowered his sword after their morning practice.

"You’ve improved considerably."

Anastasiya stared at him, breathing heavily as sweat ran down the side of her face.

"...Really?"

"Yes. Your stance is much better than before, and you’re no longer hesitating before your attacks."

Her face immediately brightened.

"Do you think Father would notice?"

"...."

The silence was enough to make her smile disappear.

"...Never mind."

Anastasiya picked up her sword again.

"Can we go one more time?"

"My Lady, you’ve been training since dawn."

"One more."

The knight looked at her blistered hands.

"You should rest."

"I said I’m fine."

Her grip tightened around the sword.

"Again."

So they continued.

Somewhere along the way, Anastasiya stopped waiting for Valentin to come out of his office. She stopped bringing him notebooks, stopped asking the servants when he would be available, and eventually stopped looking toward his door whenever she passed through that corridor.

She had wanted her father to teach her how to become a proper Grand Duchess.

In the end, she began learning without him.

As Anastasiya wandered through the library in search of something to help with her windows.

Mariya was there with Ilya, a book on the table between them. Though judging by the conversation Anastasiya could hear from where she stood, they had long since wandered away from whatever they were supposed to be reading.

She almost called out to them and walked over, only to stop when her mother’s laughter reached her first.

"My, you really do have a way with words, Ilya." Mariya covered her mouth as she laughed. "Sometimes I forget I’m speaking to an eight-year-old. If I closed my eyes, I might mistake you for some well-read gentleman trying to impress me."

"Is that supposed to be a compliment?"

studies, she caught sight of two familiar figures seated together near one of the

"Of course it is."

"Then I’ll accept it."

Mariya laughed again. "See? There you go again."

Anastasiya smiled at first.

Ilya really did look better.

The brother who had barely spoken after returning from Rabelle was finally holding a proper conversation again, and there was even a faint smile on his face as Mariya teased him.

Anastasiya should have been relieved to see it, especially after spending so many nights wondering whether the Ilya she remembered would ever come back.

Then Ilya spoke again.

"Thank you, Mother."

"Eh...?"

Anastasiya stopped.

Had she heard that correctly?

She remained between the bookshelves, staring at the two of them as Mariya continued speaking as though there had been nothing unusual about it. Ilya didn’t correct himself either, nor did he look embarrassed about accidentally using the wrong word.

He had called her Mother.

When had that started?

Now that Anastasiya thought about it, when was the last time she had even spoken properly with Ilya?

Her days had become consumed by lessons and training. She woke before sunrise, spent most mornings with the knights, attended lessons throughout the afternoon, and used whatever time remained to study all the things she believed a future Grand Duchess was supposed to know.

She had been so busy trying to become someone capable of protecting her little brother that she hadn’t noticed he no longer seemed to need her protection.

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