The Villainess's Secret Bedroom Service
Chapter 83: A Blessing Or A Curse

Chapter 83: A Blessing Or A Curse

"Altair?!"

Rosalie’s voice rang out, echoing through the air as her friend’s name tumbled from her lips. Her heart surged, an unexpected jolt coursing through her as his sudden appearance just behind her sent her senses reeling.

"Good afternoon, Lady Rosalie. It’s been a while, hasn’t it? How have you been?"

Altair wore his customary warm and welcoming smile, but today, there was a weariness lurking in his deep, pale eyes. They stood out starkly against the dark blue circles beneath them, hinting at countless restless nights that had weighed upon him.

"I am well, I suppose, nothing extraordinary. But how about you, Altair? You appear rather fatigued and unwell. Is everything all right?"

The man greeted Lady Ashter’s genuine concern with another warm smile and gently shook his head. His flowing white hair caught the afternoon sunlight, giving it an ethereal glow.

"Nothing’s amiss, do not worry. My days have been quite occupied lately, and sleep often eludes me. I find solace in spending my free hours amidst these countless tomes of knowledge... Anyway,"

He shifted his pale gaze to the bookshelf behind the girl and continued,

"I couldn’t help but notice your quest for something. Is there a particular book you are seeking?"

Lady Ashter tried to conceal her curiosity, searching for a suitable pretense. Yet, no mental disguise seemed capable of conveying the true intent behind her inquiry. Therefore, despite the potential for reprimand, she summoned her courage, took a deep breath, and finally inquired,

"Would you happen to know of any books on Demons?"

As if he had foreseen such a query, Altair released a soft chuckle. His gaze, which had initially drifted past Rosalie’s head, was now fixed on her, and he replied with surprising calmness, his voice tinged with upliftment,

"Of course, please, My Lady, follow me."

With a grace that suggested a deep familiarity with the library’s labyrinthine aisles, Altair led Rosalie further into its depths. They meandered amongst towering wooden bookshelves, and it felt as though they had been wandering without end, their destination elusive. Eventually, he brought her to a halt before a bookshelf that appeared half-deserted, its shelves burdened with ancient, well-worn tomes. There, he carefully retrieved five black volumes, cradling them in the embrace of his left arm. He then turned to Lady Rosalie, a warm smile gracing his features,

"These volumes should more than suffice to quench your curiosity, Lady Rosalie. However, if you would prefer not to spend hours unraveling their intricate text, I’m at your disposal to answer any questions you might have, regardless of how perilous you might deem them."

Altair graced her with another sly smile and began to stride toward a towering, expansive window that boasted a commodious and inviting windowsill, alongside a small wooden table paired with a few chairs similar in design. With casual ease, he placed the books upon the table and selected one from the stack, making himself comfortable on the windowsill. He then leaned against the pristine white wall and proceeded to skim through its pages.

Rosalie hesitated. She was taken aback not only by Altair’s surprising knowledge of Demons but also by his lack of curiosity about her sudden interest in the subject. Nevertheless, it might be her sole opportunity to acquire knowledge without arousing suspicion, even though the manner in which she would acquire it felt dubious as well.

Slowly, she settled onto the windowsill beside Altair. After a brief, hesitant pause, she finally broached the subject one more time,

"Altair... What exactly does it entail to enter into a contract with a Demon?"

Altair shifted his deep, contemplative gaze away from the black book in his grasp and locked onto the gray mist of Rosalie’s large eyes. His lips curled into another understated smile.

"Entering into a Demonic contract means bartering your soul with the Demon, trading it for a wish or a portion of their power. However, it’s important to note that this pact does not imply the Demon will lay claim to your soul only after your demise. They possess the right to do so at any point, though not before a period of ten years has passed."

"Oh, I see..."

The girl nodded her head understandingly and continued,

"Then... What exactly does it mean to exchange only a fraction of your soul for the Demon’s power?"

Altair pondered for a moment, his chin receiving the thoughtful caress of his fingers. He then gently closed the book and released a sigh.

"Such occurrences are rather uncommon... It implies that the Demon cannot lay claim to your entire soul. However, they do possess the right to seize something intrinsically tied to you, something carrying a part of your soul... For example, your offspring."

"Huh?"

Rosalie recoiled, her eyes gradually widening in shock. Could this be true? Did the original Rosalie possess this knowledge? And if so, what could have possibly motivated her?

"Is there a problem, Lady Rosalie?"

Once more, the girl flinched, casting aside the disquieting thoughts that had gripped her. She leaned closer to Altair, her apprehension mounting.

"Can this contract be undone?"

Her query was almost a shout, causing Altair to briefly recoil, his upper body colliding with the cold stone wall behind him.

"I beg your pardon?"

"What if someone made a mistake? Or acted hastily? Can’t they simply relinquish a portion of their lifespan instead? Surrendering their child... doesn’t that seem even crueler to you?"

Altair’s eyes widened, an unmistakable aura of bewilderment shrouding him in a dense, somewhat stifling cloak.

"Well... There is a possibility, albeit a challenging one. It would entail the intervention of a Demon Advocate, but persuading such an entity to take on the case is no simple feat. Furthermore, if the Demon in question refuses the Advocate’s entreaty, then regrettably, there would be no recourse."

The man’s response, although not entirely hopeful, seemed to ease Lady Ashter’s tension, her countenance regaining its softness as her body released the rigid grip that had held her like unyielding chains.

’The Demon Advocate, huh? But how would I even locate them? If I’m fated to remain trapped in this body, I certainly do not wish to surrender my future child to Asmodeus. I mean... There is a chance I might have a child someday, right? This is truly insane!’

The girl silently rose to her feet and took a seat behind the dark wooden table, pulling one of the books toward her, and absent-mindedly flipping it open to a random page. In truth, she no longer cared about the other things she wanted to learn about – her mind was now solely preoccupied with one major thing – the part of her soul that she was bound to give up was the life of her future child and she could not allow that to happen.

***

The remainder of their time in the Imperial Library passed in complete silence. Once Rosalie had managed to regain her composure and focus, she embarked on a methodical journey through the books Altair had chosen for her. She devoured them one by one, tirelessly dissecting the intricate depths of their teachings, her sole aim to discover even a single clue to ease her frantic mind.

However, all she unearthed was her own surrender, the inexorable pull of exhaustion becoming impossible to resist. Slowly, she lowered her heavy head onto the open book, her eyelids closing as she succumbed to the relentless gravity of slumber.

Altair gently set aside the book on Continental History and approached the table. His movements were as soft as falling feathers. He carefully removed his white embroidered jacket from his shoulders and draped it tenderly around Rosalie, shielding her from the encroaching chill of the evening air.

In silence, he settled into a chair next to the girl, leaning over the table, then aligned his head with Rosalie’s, his pale eyes gliding appreciatively over her lovely features. As if moved by an invisible yet undeniable compulsion, he tenderly ran his large hand through Lady Ashter’s soft hair and melted into a warm smile.

’So it was just a fraction of your soul, huh? Now, I am torn between calling it a blessing or a curse.’