Villain, Let Me Touch You! - Chapter 120
âJamie, find out if the maidâs room has been cleared out. If it hasnât, leave it as is. Iâll go check it myself.â
âDo you think she left something behind?â
I nodded.
People who are taken advantage of often have a hidden card, just in case.
Since sheâs a maid in the laundry room, she probably doesnât have anything too extraordinary.
Still, anything would do.
My battle with Priscilla, if people heard of it, would be called a fool’s errand, like trying to smash a rock with an egg.
I, the egg, thus planned to wield as many different weapons as I could.
And in the end, the weapon I would swing at Priscilla would be a diamond hammer.
With a diamond hammer, wouldnât even the hardest rock break?
âUnderstood. Should we search the maidâs quarters too?â
As expected, Jamie would always do two things once taught one.
âDo that. I have somewhere to go first.â
âWhere are you going?â
âTo get my diamond hammer. But first, a declaration of war.â
At my muttered words, Jamieâs eyes grew wide.
***
Priscilla’s palace was in an uproar.
“Where is the Emperorâs Consort?”
“Wh-what… Your Majesty the Queen? What brings you here?”
Priscilla’s maids rushed out and bowed deeply. They were all visibly trembling.
It wasnât uncommon for Demyr to visit Priscillaâs palace â it was an annual event. And every time, something went awry.
Either Demyr would stir up trouble in Priscilla’s court, or vice versa, but the palace would always descend into chaos, and Priscilla would seize the opportunity to purge those in the court, making sure she had full control.
Someone would end up beaten, disfigured, or thrown out to starve to death.
Given the situation, it was no surprise that the sudden arrival of Demyr seemed like the harbinger of doom to Priscilla’s servants.
Her questions were barely registering in their ears.
“Did I speak in a foreign language, or have your ears gone deaf? I asked where the Imperial Consort is.”
“Your Majesty, Her Grace is bathing right now.”
“A bath at this hour? Must be nice to live such a life.”
Demyr pointed her fan at the maid standing at the front. Demyrâs attendant helped the maid to her feet. The maid’s face was filled with fear.
“Lead the way.”
“Wh-where do you mean…?”
Was this maid as foolish as her mistress?
Demyr was getting irritated at having to explain everything. The heat inside her was already simmering.
“To the bathroom, where else?”
A sound like a goatâs bleating escaped from the maid’s mouth. It was clear that she didnât want to guide Demyr, but she had no choice but to obey the command.
The maid led Demyr to the annex attached to the palace. It was the special bathhouse Priscilla had personally built.
The large tub, always steaming even in the dead of winter, was the epitome of luxury and a source of envy among the nobles.
Priscillaâs bathhouse wasnât just a winter delight.
In the hot late spring, like now, the maids would fan the air, letting the breeze relax their bodies in the warmth.
This space, which Priscilla loved most, was exactly what Demyr hated the most.
As soon as the door opened, a rush of hot steam hit her, making her discomfort flare up instantly.
If it were any other day, Demyr wouldnât have set foot here, but would have called Priscilla out instead.
But today was not like any other day.
And there was something she had been asked to do for Rienna.
â I need a declaration of war. And…
Just thinking of Rienna made Demyr even angrier.
That little brat was almost killed!
Demyrâs fury was at its peak.
“Wait here,” she ordered.
She left the attendants outside and headed inside. The first to notice her was Priscillaâs maids.
Priscilla was sitting in the tub, arms draped over its edge, eyes closed.
Demyr made a gesture to the maid who met her gaze, signaling her to leave. The hesitating maids, now facing Demyrâs fierce glare, quickly exited the bathhouse.
Now, just Priscilla and Demyr were alone in the bathhouse. Demyr threw her fan aside and rushed toward her.
As Priscilla sensed the angry presence coming toward her, she opened her eyes.
But she soon had to close them again.
With a sharp slap, Demyr mercilessly struck Priscillaâs cheek.
