Flag-Breaking Villainess: The Story of How Breaking the Romance Flags of the Otome Game's Protagonist Ended Up Creating New Flags Between the Reincarnated Villainess and the Heroine - Chapter 14.1

On a certain holiday, in an effort to avoid an event, Liel and I came to the Royal Art Museum for a uniformed date. It was just the two of us.

Next to the museum was an event venue where different exhibitions were held periodically. Currently, a regional cuisine fair was taking place, which was where Urs had decided to go first. I knew she had no interest in art, and in any case, she would come running the moment I called for her, so there was no real issue with her not being by my side.

The museum showcased a wide variety of artistic works—paintings, of course, but also ceramics, sculptures, and, as one would expect in a fantasy world, taxidermied magical beasts and artifacts integrated into art pieces. Even without an in-depth understanding of art, there was plenty to enjoy. Liel, too, seemed intrigued.

For example, in front of a large dragon-shaped installation, she pressed a button and gasped in shock when flames suddenly erupted from the dragon’s mouth. Later, when we passed by a trick art installation that made the floor look as if it had a massive hole, she hesitated, shrinking back in cautious retreat. Her reactions were so endearing that I couldn’t help but smile.

“I always thought of art as just paintings, but there’s so much more to it…”

“Exactly. That’s why just walking around and admiring everything is fulfilling. If you look closely, each piece has its own unique charm. Not bad, right?”

“Not at all! If I had gone out alone, I probably wouldn’t have come here. I’m really enjoying discovering this new world!”

Watching Liel beam with childlike joy made me glad I had brought her along.

Next, we headed to the museum’s collection of paintings. Among the many displayed works, one particular piece captured my attention—it was a faceless angel. The expressionless figure exuded a void-like emptiness, a quiet sorrow that, somehow, felt deeply familiar to me.

I possessed memories of my past life. However, I couldn’t say with certainty that my “past self” was truly the same as who I am now. Most of those memories were mere knowledge, while the recollections themselves were fragmented. I didn’t remember my face, my name, my parents, or my friends. Had the lightning burned away the memories of my soul? Or had the lightning seared certain fragments of my past permanently into me? I couldn’t tell. Either way, there was an undeniable sense of incompleteness within me.

Then, what about the “original version of me” from this world? Before regaining my past memories, I had been identical to her. I had clear recollections of my life in this world, and I was aware of my own existence. My past memories didn’t come from possession or a soul transfer—they were simply something I had remembered. And yet, my emotions and thought patterns were now closer to those of my past self. Moreover, I had averted the event that had supposedly broken the original me—my mother’s death. I also had no attachment to the love interests in this world.

In other words, the “original me” was no longer who I was now.

No matter which identity I used as a reference, I remained an incomplete existence. If I dwelled on it too much, I might begin to wonder if the world itself would be better off rejecting me—erasing this anomaly that didn’t belong.

Just like this angel…

A sudden warmth enveloped my hand.

Startled, I looked down to find Liel gripping it tightly. Her blue eyes gazed up at me with concern.

“What’s wrong?”

Liel hesitated for a moment before responding.

“It just… felt like you might disappear, Lady Lilia.”

A sharp ache ran through my chest.

To Liel, I wasn’t an anomaly or an incomplete existence—I was simply myself, someone she cherished. The warmth of her concern spread through me, softening the edges of my loneliness.

“I won’t disappear. Thank you for worrying about me.”

I gently squeezed her hand in return, feeling its softness as I smiled at her. She, too, smiled back, reassured.

“Can we keep holding hands as we walk around? I feel at ease when you’re close.”

“Of course! I want to stay with you forever!”

Liel’s delighted response warmed my heart.

Hand in hand, we continued exploring the museum, the touch of her palm grounding me in the present. With her beside me, my heart felt as still and serene as the surface of an undisturbed lake.

Ever since regaining the memories of my past life, I had developed a detached, almost analytical perspective toward myself, others, and the world around me. The reason was simple—I knew this world was based on a game, and I had already experienced death once before. Because of that, the rigorous training and studying necessary to improve my status, which would typically be grueling, never felt burdensome. It was merely a task, a repetitive game mechanic that I could complete with ease.

The first time I ever took a life was the day I met Urs. And yet, I felt nothing. It was the same when Urs and I ventured into the backstreets of the royal capital to hunt down criminals lurking in the shadows. We captured them together, tested the effects of an elixir on them, and disposed of them in the end. Not once did my conscience waver.

The only reason I approached Liel in this world was to avoid the impending doom flags. It was a rational decision, made from an objective standpoint. At first, I only saw her as “the protagonist of the original story.”

But… something shifted that stormy night.

The warmth of her embrace as she held me close.

The sound of her heartbeat, steady and alive.

They made me recognize Liel as a person.

As we wandered through the museum, we talked about all sorts of things. Liel’s pure-hearted curiosity and unfiltered reactions were so endearing that I found myself cherishing every moment. No matter what I thought of myself, being with her had become something undeniably precious to me.

“There are so many different types of exhibits, but what’s your favorite, Lady Lilia?”

“If I had to choose one, it would be paintings. I used to paint, long ago.”

“You don’t paint anymore?”

“Not anymore. Unlike before, I can’t seem to do it now. Even when I want to… I don’t know what to paint, or what feelings should move my brush. I just… don’t know anymore.”

By “before,” I meant my past life.

Since regaining my memories, I had tried multiple times to paint again, but I never succeeded. Whether I used a brush or a pencil, the moment I attempted to draw, everything blurred into uncertainty. My hands turned cold and refused to move.

It was likely because, in my past life, my final work had been ruined. My art had been rejected, and I had died feeling as though my talent had been denied. Though I had been reincarnated, the artist in me had remained dead.

As for nail art, that wasn’t an issue—I could simply hire a skilled artisan, describe my vision, and have them bring it to life.

“If there’s anything I can do to help you paint again, please tell me. I would do anything for you, Lady Lilia.”

“How dependable. If I ever think of something, I’ll let you know.”

“It’s a promise! I’ll do my best for you!”

Liel’s unwavering devotion made her seem like an angel, someone who wanted to support me without hesitation.

And yet… that very thought sent a stabbing pain through my chest.

A guilty conscience.

I had started feeling guilt ever since I truly began to see Liel.

Her kindness wasn’t meant for someone like me. The person meant to stand by her side wasn’t me. It should have been one of the story’s capture targets. The current situation, the relationship we had—it was all the result of my deliberate interference. I had manipulated events to steer her away from them. Had I not intervened, Liel would have had the freedom to choose her own path.

…But even if my chest ached, it wasn’t enough to make me stop.

I was selfish. I had stolen an angel’s wings—the wings of possibilities that Liel was meant to have.

There was no doubt about it.

In this world, I was the devil.