I Became the Villain’s Daughter – Chapter 99

“It’s a relief it’s not the Rugimi disease.”

When someone started the conversation, others chimed in one after another.

“Right? They say that damned plague was so vicious it spread across the whole continent.”

“I heard boiled garlic works against it…”

“Oh, nonsense. That’s just a rumor.”

“My cousin in the next village caught the Rugimi disease and died.”

The inn bustled again with chatter.

The innkeeper bowed gratefully to me.

“Thank you so much, miss. The only physician in our village is away right now, so we were at a loss…”

“There’s no doctor here?”

I asked without thinking, and the innkeeper immediately launched into a long story. Maybe he was just naturally talkative—or perhaps years of running an inn made him that way.

“Well, normally there wasn’t, but a few months ago, a doctor suddenly settled in our village. Since this is such a remote countryside, we used to have to travel all the way to the Inpola territory or another city for treatment. But ever since he came, things have become much easier. He’s a fine physician—rarely charges for his services, and he’s so skilled that everyone calls him a miracle worker. Unless he’s out gathering herbs like today, the entire village goes to him for help.”

“I see…”

I nodded. The innkeeper repeated, his expression earnest,

“Truly, thank you, miss. If it weren’t for you, we would’ve had to wait days for the doctor to return—or drag the poor child all the way to another town. And we don’t even own a horse. It’s not much, but please, I won’t charge you for your stay.”

I just shrugged.

Even if the herbs I’d given them weren’t as strong as the potions I made, they were still of high quality. Properly brewed, they’d help the child recover in no time. That was enough comfort for me.

I packed my bag again and went upstairs. I planned to sleep early to leave at dawn. The innkeeper thanked me several more times as I went up.

That evening—

Someone entered the quiet village of Bigo, a place rarely visited by travelers.

He seemed to see well even in the dark; despite the late hour, his horse’s gait was steady and unhurried.

His face was mostly hidden beneath his hooded robe, but the faint moonlight revealed a glimpse of his features—sharp and handsome.

As he rode slowly through the village, he suddenly frowned slightly in curiosity.

In front of the only inn in the village stood a horse of an unfamiliar, rare breed.

It looked a little tired from travel, but its glossy coat and elegant posture were far too fine for such a humble place.

“……”

He examined the horse with interest and murmured to himself,

“This aura… feels familiar.”

He lifted his gaze toward one of the rooms upstairs. The motion slightly shifted his robe, revealing a hint of orange hair glinting under the moonlight.

The second floor—usually empty—had its windows tightly curtained. But he, whose senses were far sharper than any human’s, could easily hear the faint breathing beyond the curtain.

“Hm…”

Beyond the curtain, a silver-haired girl slept soundly on a hard bed.

Around her neck hung the small wooden flute given to her by a fairy, and one of her hands gripped the blanket tightly.

Though she often appeared cold and distant when awake, her sleeping face was as soft and innocent as an angel’s.

The man gazed at her for a long while before lowering his head again.

His lips curved upward in amusement.

The next morning—

I woke to the lively sounds of people moving about outside.

For the past several days, I’d barely slept, pushing my horse hard across the roads. Even before leaving the Siwin Kingdom, I hadn’t slept well, my mind burdened with worry. After so long, a proper night’s rest felt refreshing.

I opened the window and stretched under the morning sunlight.

“It’s already morning, huh…”

My body ached from the continuous travel, and I wanted nothing more than to soak in a bath—but I resisted. After washing my face and hands, I changed clothes and slung my pack over my shoulder.

When I went downstairs, the wooden steps creaked beneath me. The innkeeper and his wife were bustling about on the first floor.

But as soon as the innkeeper saw me, he froze.

‘…?’

Puzzled, I greeted him anyway.

“Good morning.”

“G-Good morning, miss.”

“Are you not serving breakfast?”

I shook my head. I still had some bread left, and I wasn’t particularly hungry.

“I’ll be checking out. Here’s the key.”

At my words, the innkeeper looked distraught.

“Well, the thing is…”

“……?”

Something was clearly wrong. I frowned slightly.

“Is the child still sick? No improvement?”

“Oh, no! After drinking the herbal tea you made, the fever went down significantly. It’s just that…”

“Just that…?”

He hesitated so much that I felt my patience thinning. Finally, he confessed,

“The thing is… your horse is gone.”

My mouth fell open.

“…What?”

He stammered,

“I’m terribly sorry! We’re searching for the culprit right now… but I fear someone in the village must’ve stolen it. A horse that fine is a rare sight around here.”

“How could this…”

A dull ache throbbed in my head.

“There must be clues—no one could hide such a large animal so easily.”

“I truly am sorry…”

The innkeeper told me there were no horse traders in this rural area. The few horses that existed had already been sold to soldiers from the Inpola territory months ago for the war effort.

“Miss, if you’re not in too much of a hurry, perhaps you could stay until we find it…”

“I am in a hurry. A person’s life depends on it.”

“Oh dear… is that so?”

The innkeeper wiped sweat from his brow.

“Could anyone else have a horse for sale?”

“I’ll ask around, but honestly, I doubt anyone in this village has one left…”

Walking would take far too long.

‘What should I do?’

At this rate, I might have to settle for an ox and cart. The innkeeper looked helpless, and no solution came to mind.

Then someone called out,

“You there, miss.”

I turned my head—and saw a man I hadn’t noticed before sitting by a table.

How had I not seen him earlier?

He was striking—so striking that it almost felt out of place here.

His robe was pure white, spotless like a healer’s uniform, and long hair flowed from beneath his hat.

That vivid orange hair and eyes were colors rarely seen, even in the cities.

I blinked, and he smiled playfully at me.

“If you’d like, I could lend you my horse.”

The innkeeper’s face lit up.

“Oh! That’s right—Doctor! You have a horse, don’t you? Thank heavens!”

‘Doctor?’

I looked at the man in confusion. The innkeeper explained beside me,

“Miss, this is our village’s only physician. I heard he’d gone to the city, but it seems he returned last night.”

“I heard you treated one of my patients in my absence,” the man said, lifting a cup of water to his lips. “You were heading to the Inpola territory, weren’t you?”

“…Yes.”

He grinned brightly.

“Quite brave of you to travel alone. I don’t know what your business is, but since you’re in a hurry, I’ll lend you my horse. But I’m headed that way too, so we’ll have to ride together. I’m in a bit of a rush myself.”

“……”

I stared at him uneasily.

Ride together?

Even a child knows better than to trust a stranger who’s too friendly.

Especially one who looked that refined and spoke such clean, polite language—a far cry from the thick southern accent everyone else here had.

‘Still…’

There wasn’t really another choice.

Perhaps sensing my hesitation, the innkeeper spoke up,

“Why don’t you accept his offer, miss? You’ll be coming back this way eventually, right? The Inpola territory is the farthest one at the border. By then, I’ll make sure your horse is found.”

“……”

Earlier, the innkeeper had asked how much my horse was worth—and nearly fainted when I told him.

Understandably so. It wasn’t just any horse—it was a purebred from the Siwin royal stables, a gift from Ray himself.

Even selling this entire inn wouldn’t cover its price.

Still, seeing my hesitation, the innkeeper quickly added,

“I know it’s hard to trust a stranger, but I can vouch for him. In thirty years of running this inn, I’ve never met a doctor so kind and selfless. He’s truly a good man.”

At that, the man smiled faintly. He looked to be in his mid-twenties, his expression bright and open.

In the end, I had to decide.

It was uncomfortable to ride with a stranger, but with the innkeeper guaranteeing his identity—and my own abilities to protect myself—it seemed acceptable.

“…Then I’ll be in your care,” I said finally.

The man stood up.

“Leaving right away?”

“Yes.”

“Good. I’ll fetch my things.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry—thank you both, miss, doctor,” the innkeeper said repeatedly.

As the man rose, I noticed how tall he was—at least a head taller than me.

“By the way,” he said as he reached the door, turning back slightly.

His orange eyes gleamed brightly in the morning sun, and though I couldn’t say why, there was a hint of amusement on his face.

“My name’s Rel.”

Without thinking, I replied,

“…I’m Laila.”

—And that was how my strange connection with him began.