This Three Year Old Is a Villainess-Chapter 285

I lived an unhappy life in Korea.

I tried to end it all... then when I opened my eyes, I was in another world.

And that world was the universe of my favorite web novel, <The Story of the Villainous Family>!

“I’ve possessed the granddaughter of the villain?”

Knowing how terrifying that novel was, I resented the gods... until I heard:

“You have long been awaited, Dalia.”

A gentle father.

“I am Milan. These are Joshua, Balzac, and Rismund—your cousin brothers.”

“What are you staring at?”

“That’s no threat—it’s just how Balzac speaks.”

Charming older brothers.

“How dare you lay hands on another’s body without permission?”

“Ah—Duke Astra?!”

“This child’s name is Dalia Astra. She is my granddaughter, who will enjoy all Astra’s glory—!!”

And a magnificent grandfather.

“Oh—this truly is my home.”

I vowed:

“I will live here with my beloved family in this wonderful house.”

But there’s one problem.

“You must be prepared to kill, and prepared to die. Without that, you cannot bring me down, Dalia.”

...the original heroine was no pushover.

“But will I give up because of that?”

I will reclaim my original power that Father spoke of, erase these family troubles, and enjoy a happy, happy life!

“The first <Villainous Family> blurb has changed.”

In the original, the blurb described the heroine—that is, me—like this:

[...“Can I defeat the original heroine who believes I stole everything from her, and change the future?”]

But the revised blurb lavished power on my introduction. And moreover...

“It says I must reclaim my original power.”

“My original power?”

“Perhaps I have yet to manifest my Blessing.”

“Grimie can bestow Blessings—so why not yet?”

“Because he rushed to insert Dalia’s soul into an unprepared vessel.”

I smiled.

“He hastily gave her a body not yet ready—because of me.”

“Well, that’s good...!”

“Indeed, it means the fourth-tier <Heal> is currently unusable.”

They called Dalia a living goddess because of that <Heal>—a power rivaling, perhaps exceeding, that unleashed when opening a root in the true Land of Blessing.

Because of it, nobles and commoners alike trembled before Dalia; without her, incurable illnesses would remain so.

“That healing was truly astounding.”

“Right. They said she used it to grant favors to nobles across the continent, forging countless connections.”

“Yes.”

I grinned as I gazed beyond the gates.

“I’ve bought time.”

Before I reclaim that power, I can operate freely.

Refreshments awaited in the garden.

Our cousins sat at four tables, enjoying tea time.

Arriving late, I asked Liantin,

“Where’s Dalia?”

“No idea—her.”

Liantin spun on her heel.

Dionera, flustered, answered,

“Well, Liantin’s in a bad mood...”

“What happened?”

“He said Dalia—”

Dionera hesitated, then explained the garden incident.

“She riled up the opposition by her innocent heart.”

Liantin thundered a warning:

“You’d best show restraint before Grandfather intervenes.”

Yet Dalia’s sincerity melted the opposition.

“It’s not fair!”

“What?”

“I wrestled with how to keep us all safe—balancing our house’s future and loyalty to Grandfather.”

“You keep babbling—”

“Try to understand your other sisters and brothers. ❀ Nоvеlігht ❀ (Don’t copy, read here) Then you couldn’t threaten so lightly.”

Praised for that defense, Dalia won their admiration—while Liantin was utterly shamed.

“So where’d that heroine go?”

Liantin glared.

“She said the cake was delicious—then carried the entire dish into the castle!”

“Why?”

“Who knows.”

Just then:

“Grandfather!”

We heard Dalia’s voice. She came running to someone outside the garden.

“You were here—I should have waited quietly. You’re coming to the garden, right?”

“...I was passing by.”

Grandfather. He and Marquis Debussy had been walking, but he paused.

‘He’s never had such an upbeat granddaughter.’

Debussy stifled a laugh.

“What brings you here, Your Grace?”

“Well, the cake was so, so delicious! Never tasted cake like this!”

“I see.”

“So I want to share it! Good things are better shared!”

Then Dalia heaped spoonfuls of cake onto the spoon she held.

“Here—have some!”

“....”

Grandfather froze. So did all the watching cousins.

“Is she—mad?”

“She’s the first to so boldly cling to Grandfather since Erilot....”

Debussy stifled a laugh, shoulders trembling.

Dalia giggled and offered the spoon again.

“Here?”

“....”

“Now, boarding the airplane: whoosh—”

Debussy bent at the waist, trembling as if near tears.

The cousins were nearly aghast.

Then I stepped forward:

“Enough.”

Dalia stared at me, startled.

“Huh? Why?”

“That much sugar isn’t good for you.”

Though I’d also brought food for Grandfather, each treat was made by Jurisdiction chefs to suit elders—markedly low in sugar, catering to Grandfather’s taste.

“Ah, it’s just one spoon. You’re so timid, Erilot.”

“What?”

“Or jealous?”

The atmosphere grew tense.

Dalia laughed: “Just kidding.”

Debussy chuckled:

“He doesn’t take sweets.”

“Is that so? Then you have it, Marquis.”

“Pardon?”

Before he could reply, Dalia popped the spoon into his mouth.

Debussy froze. Dalia beamed.

“Well? Delicious, isn’t it?”

“Ah, yes... quite...”

He smiled awkwardly. Maids and guards alike watched wide-eyed.

I frowned and said to Dalia:

“Let’s talk a moment.”

“Huh? Here?”

“Dalia, you mustn’t do that. The other person might have allergies—and touching someone’s body here without permission is—”

“Huh? Really? Not allowed?”

Dalia blinked at Debussy.

“It is...”

“Are you all right, Marquis?”

“Well...”

He forced a laugh, uneasy.

‘Clueless.’

Who would dare tell the granddaughter of their discomfort? Such a question itself offends.

Yet Dalia laughed brightly:

“I’m glad. Next time I’ll be more careful!”

“....”

“And thanks for telling me—I’m not unfamiliar with etiquette, just forgot because of memory loss.”

“....”

“I hope you’ll teach me lots more, Erilot.”

She handed her plate and spoon to a passing maid, then looped her arm through mine.

Debussy smiled fondly.

“You two are close.”

“I like Erilot best, you see. Look—my eyes are green, Erilot’s are red—like roses, right?”

“Yes, indeed.”

“Then we’re a set: the Roses of Astra. Right, Erilot?”

Those nearby chuckled. Such sweetness was unheard of in Astra. Dalia’s innocence charmed them.

“Um, we’re with our cousins—Grandfather and the Marquis should join us...”

“Erilot.”

Grandfather called me as Dalia chattered.

“Yes, Grandfather?”

“Come with me. I have something to discuss.”

“Yes.”

Dalia piped up,

“I want to come too!”

Debussy gently interjected:

“It concerns state affairs—please excuse us.”

“But I’m family too!”

Dalia pleaded, looking to Grandfather.

His gaze turned cold.

‘Oh no...’

I stepped between them.

“Please go, Grandfather.”

“Huh? We haven’t finished—”

‘Clueless.’

Even when offered a way out, she made it more troublesome.

Grandfather spoke softly:

“What can you do?”

“Pardon?”

“I ask if you have abilities to match Erilot’s.”

“....”

“This child, at her youngest, made the thick-skulled Imperial Guard kneel, and never placed second in bloodline training.”

“....”

“She can perform any task admirably. And what can you do?”

“Grandfather...”

The cousins watched Dalia silently. Debussy sighed in resignation.

‘Fool.’

The novel’s Dalia was never so naive—yet this one was, perhaps because my actions shaped her reality.

I smiled warmly at Grandfather.

‘You thought a gentle attitude would win you over?’

I had striven fiercely. For any command from him, I would lay down my life. Bloodline training saw no restful nights. This made me who I am.

‘The Duke’s favor isn’t won by a kind manner alone.’

Only results could earn his heart.

Grandfather, unable to reply, glanced at Dalia and passed her without a word.

I followed him into the castle.

“Grandfather.”

“Yes?”

“She’s new to Astra. Soon she’ll feel the weight of the family’s glory.”

—and never forgetting to act the grateful granddaughter.

Looping his arm, I smiled brightly.

Grandfather cleared his throat.

“If others had understood even half your insight, my hair wouldn’t be so white.”

“What white hair? I see only gold in your hair.”

“Flattery—”

“You always look splendid.”

Leaning on his shoulder, his lips twitched. Debussy stifled a laugh.

“Indeed, Miss Erilot is the Duke’s favorite.”

“Nonsense!”

“Yes, yes.”

As they bantered, I grinned to myself.

‘Thank you, Dalia.’

Because of you, my standing with Grandfather has risen.

At dusk, Grimie returned from the Imperial Works and gazed at Dalia.

“Who upset my daughter?”

“....”

“Why so glum, Dalia?”

“Grandfather hates me...”

Grimie looked to his adjutant as if puzzled.

The adjutant explained the day’s events in a troubled tone.

Grimie’s eyes hardened. He surveyed Dalia, displeased, then softened when she glanced up.

“Your position makes it hard to show emotion to everyone.”

“But in the novel, you favored Erilot—”

“Dalia.”

His voice dropped to a chilling whisper.

Dalia flinched.

“I’m sorry...”

“People won’t believe someone came from a novel’s world. I fear they’ll misjudge you.”

“I see...”

“There will be opportunities to display your abilities to Grandfather.”

“Do you think so?”

“Of course.”

Grimie smiled, and Dalia mimicked him.

“I’ll apologize for behaving like a spoiled child!”

“Good.”

Dalia said, “I’ll go first!” and dashed toward the Duke’s study.

After she left, Grimie’s expression changed. He turned to the adjutant.

“How did this occur under your watch?”

“I-I-I beg your forgiveness! It won’t happen again—!”

The adjutant couldn’t finish. Cracks formed at his feet and he crumbled into dust.

“Master! Master! Forgive me—!”

Once he disappeared, a strange voice emerged from the darkness beyond a corner.

“If I had not silenced his voice, people would have flooded in.”

“I granted you the Blessing of Silence for just such a contingency, Pavil.”

“You seem displeased.”

“Because of Erilot’s actions, we lost sixty percent of the underground monsters—and many relics.”

“I suspect that is not the true cause.”

Grimie glanced toward the corner. His gaze grew cold.

“That child—could she stand against Erilot?”

“For the Messiah, what could our Chronote not achieve?”

A chilling voice and mocking laughter filled the corridor.

“Lord Kumal commands you give that noble place to the Messiah.”

Pavil of the Chronote Council declared:

“Use any means, we shall secure Astra in your grasp.”

A satisfied smile curved Grimie’s lips.

In the distance came Dalia’s voice:

“Father, hurry! Hurry!”

“Of course.”

This third generation is the villain.