I Won't Clear Up the Misunderstanding. I Don't Mind Being the Villainess. - Chapter 27

I was smiling fondly at Ron, who looked a little sheepish, when I suddenly felt the whole atmosphere change.
I lifted my gaze and saw Martha looking at me, her expression tight with nerves.
“What is it, Martha?”
I figured she had something important on her mind. When I gave her the opening, she hesitated for just a moment before speaking.
“Madam, if you don’t mind me asking… is it really true that Madame Marvella has been let go as the governess?”
Martha was watching me with a mixture of desperate hope and apprehension. I met her eyes and nodded.
“That’s right. As of today, she’s been officially relieved of her duties as governess.”
(She’s probably still milling around the mansion, though.) I made sure that thought didn’t escape me. After all, I’d gone to the trouble of ordering Holger to keep the children far away from the dungeons for a reason.
I turned as I heard a faint rustling noise in the distance. I spotted several maids who had been in the library quickly scuttling behind the bookshelves. It’s not like I’d asked everyone to leave, and this wasn’t a secret conversation, but fine.
Invisible stares were still boring into my back. The maids were hiding from me, yet they clearly weren’t going anywhere and were intent on catching every word. I decided to ignore them and focused my attention back on Ron and Martha.
“I see…”
Martha visibly relaxed, letting out a big sigh of relief and pressing a hand to her chest. It seemed even Ron’s personal lady-in-waiting saw Madame Marvella as a disastrous choice for a teacher.
“The next governess isn’t set yet, but I plan to choose someone who won’t create a ridiculous gap between the two boys.”
“Madam, please do.”
The depth of her bow told me everything: this lady-in-waiting must have been absolutely sick with worry over Madame Marvella’s ‘educational policy.’
Honestly, anyone who genuinely cared about Ron must have been incredibly frustrated with that governess. Martha, at least, had the decency not to openly jump for joy when she heard the news.
Speaking of which, what did Ron think? I looked over at the boy, who was wearing a complex expression that looked far too heavy for his young face. Maybe confusion was the closest emotion. Noticing my gaze, Ron looked up at me.
“Um, Ma’am.”
“Oh!”
Both Martha and I blinked, startled, as Ron called out. He must have just copied Martha’s way of speaking. However, that was far too informal for the Duke’s son addressing the Duchess.
I quickly knelt down in front of him.
“Just Erika is absolutely fine.”
“Madam, you can’t possibly let him call you by your plain name…”
Martha offered a quiet protest, and I realized she had a point.
“In that case, how about calling me Auntie Erika?”
“Madam!”
“Um… is it okay if I call you Big Sister Erika?”
Perhaps taking pity on me for being corrected by Martha twice, Ron offered a suggestion of his own. Big Sister. It felt a little awkward, but since I’m only seventeen, it definitely suited me better than ‘Auntie.’
“Yes, please call me that. And is it alright if I call you Ron?”
“Yes. Um… I’m sorry that I can’t call you Mother.”
I smiled gently at Ron to reassure him as he apologized.
“It’s completely fine. As I told you before, we’ve only just met, so that’s perfectly normal.”
I don’t actually see Leo and Ron as my sons, either. When I talk to them like this, it feels like I’m dealing with a young male relative I’ve just been introduced to.
(Especially since Ron barely showed up in the manga…)
Early in the story, his brother Leo bullied him and treated him like a lackey. Their relationship improved after Leo became attached to Erika, but Ron never got his own focus arc. So, all I know is that he’s a quiet, sweet boy.
(Leo, the one who never met Erika, was apparently destined to become a tyrant like a Demon King. I wonder what happened to Ron in that timeline?)
An illustration of the adult Leo was specifically drawn for the comic, but there was no mention of the adult Ron at all. It just occurred to me that the author created a huge difference between the brothers. Maybe characters with a sharp, difficult personality, like Kevin, were the author’s favorite.
“Um, Big Sister Erika.”
“What is it, Ron?”
“Why did Madame Marvella suddenly stop being the governess?”
He asked the question with confusion. To me, it felt like she should have been fired ages ago, but he clearly didn’t think so.
“She was the governess from Father’s time, after all, and I thought no one could ever oppose her.”
“…Did Madame Marvella tell you that?”
When I asked, Ron nodded.
“She said that even when Martha got angry about her calling me a slave, Father trusted her, and if anyone was going to be fired, it would be Martha…”
“She had the nerve to say that…”
“So I thought it couldn’t be helped, even when Brother called me a slave.”
Saying that, Ron clenched his fists on his trousers. His obedience to Madame Marvella might have been driven not just by brainwashing, but also by a desire to protect his lady-in-waiting, Martha.
“Listen, Madame Marvella wasn’t nearly as important as she believed. She said many unacceptable things while laboring under a delusion of her own importance, and that made the Duke furious.”
I said this while looking into Ron’s blue eyes. Kevin didn’t let Madame Marvella run rampant because he trusted her. He did it because he was indifferent. Indifferent to Madame Marvella, and indifferent to his own children.
“Unacceptable things?”
Ron tilted his head and asked again, and I nodded.
“That’s right. Things like insulting the very existence of a younger brother—even though the King has a brother and the Prince has a brother—and also saying things that, in effect, insulted the former Duchess…”
I stopped there. Then I said in a louder voice than before:
“She managed to insult my age, my looks, my background, and my upbringing, and in the end, she insulted the Duke himself for having chosen me as his wife. That earned her his massive fury and her immediate dismissal.”
It’s only natural, isn’t it? As I smiled, I heard the sound of someone nervously swallowing hard somewhere nearby. It wasn’t Ron or Martha, who were both nodding in understanding.
(Now that you eavesdroppers have heard it, I’d really appreciate it if you’d take it to heart and spread the word to your colleagues. Honestly, I’m sick and tired of having to repeatedly lecture servants for insulting me.) I murmured this inwardly to the maids who were clearly listening in on our conversation.