The Villainess Whom I Had Served for 13 Years Has Fallen-Chapter 378: The Woman Talks About Her Meeting with That Man (4)

Ricardo smiled brightly, as carefree as a child.

"It does sting a bit, though."

"How... how did you get here?"

"How else? I walked up the stairs."

His boyish grin never wavered. It was as if he were unaware of the life-threatening fire he had just braved to get here. He looked at her with the same expression he always wore, unbothered, as if this was just another day.

Reality started to blur for Shartia.

Looking at Ricardo’s smile made her want to laugh too, like a thoughtless child. The fear of death she had faced moments ago began to fade, replaced by an inexplicable sense of calm.

Yet, as water dripped steadily from his hair onto the floor, she realized Ricardo had not entered this inferno lightly.

—Crackle...

He had risked his life.

—Crash...!

And he stayed, knowing full well the debris above them might collapse at any moment.

Shartia’s hands trembled as she shouted at Ricardo.

"Get out of here!"

She told him to leave, to ignore her and save himself.

"I can get out on my own. Just go—quickly!"

She said it because she didn’t want him to be in danger. The truth was, she was grateful he had come and wanted nothing more than for him to hold her and get them both out of there. But instead, she let those foolish words slip out.

Ricardo smiled softly and placed his hands on her shoulders.

"Shh. Don’t say anything. I know what you want to say."

"...Huh?"

"You’ve inhaled too much smoke. Don’t breathe too deeply."

Without waiting for a reply, Ricardo placed a damp cloth over her mouth. He positioned her weak, limp hand over the cloth so she could hold it herself, then gently patted her head with a small smile.

"Luckily, the Empire’s treasure is safe."

"Treas...ure?"

"You’re the Empire’s treasure, Princess."

"..."

"Though, of course, I’d say you’re the world’s treasure."

The cold cloth soothed her breathing, bringing her a sense of relief—relief that she was still alive. But something else stirred within her as she looked at his calm, smiling face.

You...

The thought crossed her mind: You’re different from everyone else.

He touched her shoulder without asking for permission—an audacious move for anyone dealing with royalty.

"I’m going to hold you now."

He didn’t hesitate to lift her like a fairytale princess, even though the implications could be disastrous.

"I’ll hold on tight, so just stay conscious, okay?"

He wasn’t afraid. Unlike others, he didn’t tremble before her title or the risks.

Shartia realized it for the first time then: Ricardo was someone who could stand firm, someone strong enough to shoulder others’ burdens.

Although his actions were unpredictable, she couldn’t bring herself to think badly of him. In fact, his unpredictability felt oddly reassuring.

"Let’s go."

Time seemed to freeze.

The moment he held her, it was as though the world had stopped, like the way books described a first kiss. The memory of being in his arms burned itself into her mind, unerasable.

Even amidst the black smoke and searing flames, this moment felt more serene than anything else in her life.

"Ah, hot!!"

And yet, he yelped foolishly, breaking the spell.

"That’s incredible."

"Isn’t it?"

The guildmaster, grinning like a lovesick youth, couldn’t help but tease Shartia.

Even on the princess’s normally stoic face, a girlish smile lingered.

"Sounds like a romance straight out of a novel, doesn’t it? A daring rescue by a brave young man."

"Don’t tease me. It’s embarrassing..."

"Tease? Not at all! When I was younger, I dreamed of meeting a man like that. Though I did end up with my husband... Anyway, if someone burst through flames like a hero for me, I’d fall for him in a heartbeat. Who wouldn’t?"

"I suppose that’s true."

"So... what happened next? It doesn’t seem like Ricardo was indifferent to you either."

"Hah. I’m too busy trying to survive to worry about romance. A woman like me would be too much trouble for someone like him."

"Too much trouble? You’re stunning! You’re on par with Olivia Desmont, the Empire’s most beautiful noblewoman."

"Olivia..."

Shartia snorted, recalling Olivia’s eccentric habits, and shook her head.

"In a completely different way, maybe."

"Hmm..."

Lifting her teacup, Shartia began to recount the aftermath.

"Well, if Ricardo had made a move after that, I might’ve given in."

"Does that mean...?"

"Let me finish."

She brushed her hair back, sighing as if just the memory of him gave her a headache.

"But remembering what he did at the hospital still makes me furious."

When Shartia regained consciousness, she found herself in the academy’s infirmary.

No matter how skilled the academy’s resident doctors were, the sudden influx of patients had overwhelmed the facility.

"..."

She raised her hand to check the time.

5 PM.

Roughly two hours had passed since the fire began. The last clock she’d seen before fainting had read 3 PM.

"Haah... This is a disaster."

Shartia wanted nothing more than to rush back to the academy and deal with the aftermath, but her body wouldn’t cooperate. Even lifting her hand felt like an ordeal, let alone taking action.

There was the fire report to write, the student roster and damage assessments to compile, and the restoration and aid requests to draft.

Just thinking about it made her head pound. She let her hand fall from the clock back to the bed, exhaling a long sigh.

"Forget it. I just need to rest."

Trying to do anything in her current condition was impossible. Donning a patient’s gown and stepping up might earn her praise, but collapsing midway would cause more trouble.

"No one’s here..."

The room was empty.

Not a single visitor came to check on her, no one stayed by her side out of concern. She was entirely alone in her quiet, private hospital room.

Perhaps her royal status had earned her the privilege of a single room, but the loneliness of staring at the ceiling was unbearable. Shartia covered her eyes with her hand and sighed again.

"..."

It wasn’t sadness, but whatever this feeling was, it wasn’t pleasant.

"..."

The hours passed.

—Tick.

For ten minutes, she stared at the closed door, trapped in silence, time crawling by as if each minute were an hour.

What if the door opened? What if someone came to check on her? She waited, but no one came.

—Thud.

Her chest felt tight.

She had survived, yet instead of feeling grateful, she felt a growing sense of emptiness.

She needed to recover, to thank Ricardo for saving her life. But the weight in her heart kept pulling her down.

Just as the clock passed five more minutes—

—Knock, knock.

"I’m coming in, even if you don’t grant permission."

A familiar voice reached her ears.

"What...?"

The door opened, and a man with red hair walked in, carrying an absurd amount of ★ 𝐍𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 ★ fruit.

Ricardo met her gaze and froze, his expression briefly showing disbelief that she was awake. Then his pupils trembled as he muttered,

"..."

"I guess doctors can’t be trusted after all. They said you wouldn’t wake up for five days... Looks like the capital is full of quacks."

"You..."

"You’re awake?"

Ricardo’s cheerful smile returned as he poured water into a cup.

Shartia watched him silently, her gaze lingering on the burn marks on his face and the signs of makeshift first aid. He clearly hadn’t received proper medical attention.

—Thud.

Why is he doing this?

Shartia, who had nothing to offer in return, found Ricardo’s kindness unsettling.

So she stiffened and asked in a clipped tone,

"The fire?"

"It’s been extinguished."

"Any injuries?"

"No fatalities. The most severe case was yours, though it wasn’t due to the fire but because you collapsed from overwork."

"Good... That’s good. How long was I unconscious? Two hours?"

"Ah..."

Ricardo handed her the glass with an awkward smile.

"It’s been about two days."

"What?!"

Shartia tried to sit up in alarm, but Ricardo gently pushed her back down, shaking his head.

"Stay still."

"Let me—"

"Nope. Not without my permission. I saved your life, so you’re under my care now."

"I have work to—"

Ricardo interrupted her, holding out the glass with a carefree grin.

"I’ve already handled the urgent paperwork. The report’s written, too."

"...What? You did it?"

"I’m something of a prodigy, you know. I was educated in a duke’s household. Oh, and I’ve temporarily handed the student council to someone capable."

Shartia stared, dumbfounded. The troublemaker she’d dismissed as a fool turned out to be an elite, the kind of person nobles would scramble to recruit.

"They’re a better administrator than I am, so you can trust their work. Probably."

She felt a pang of envy.

He made her laugh, handled her responsibilities competently, and knew exactly what to say to ease her mind. A man like that—she couldn’t help but want to keep him close.

"So, about the young lady..."

"Pfft! Are you crazy?"

"No, I mean—"

"Go on, keep talking."

As they chatted, Shartia found herself relaxing.

They talked about their lives, their experiences at the academy, and other things she hadn’t spoken about in years. For the first time in what felt like forever, she smiled—a genuine, warm smile.

"..."

Watching Ricardo peel fruit, Shartia spoke softly, almost shyly.

"Thank you..."

Ricardo, sticking a fork into a piece of fruit, replied nonchalantly.

"Don’t mention it."

But when they returned to the academy...

"UGH! SHUT UP! I’ll do whatever I want! I’m the president now! If anyone has a problem, get out—or better yet, you’re expelled!"

It felt like her world was crumbling.

"Thinking about the chaos I dealt with that day... Ugh..."

"Ha ha ha ha!!!"

The guildmaster doubled over laughing.

"Your friend Ricardo seems very... considerate."

"What?"

Shartia glared at the guildmaster, displeased at the unexpected remark. Remembering that day only brought back frustration.

But.

"He deflected the criticism, didn’t he?"

The guildmaster smiled knowingly.

"Didn’t he divert all the blame from the student council president to himself?"

"..."

"Desmont Olivia probably loved it, too."

It was something Shartia hadn’t understood until now, something she’d missed from afar.