Taming The Villainesses

Chapter 450: Clear Skies, Then Occasional Showers of Petals (2)

The chill in the air had finally peeled away.

The imps, who had all curled up with their tails tucked in, were now starting to wander the streets one by one. A certain imp with striking red bobbed hair walked along the road.

Her eyes turned toward a small girl, flitting busily through the street—just like herself.

“Extraaa, extraaa! Read all about it!”

“Hoae-noia! This great Tartart demands a copy of your newspaper...!”

Imp intern Hoae-noi, who was working for the newspaper company and bustling through Monarch City—the royal capital of Angmar—was called over by the imp Tartart, wearing a bright red armband. Tartart bought a copy.

Rustle.

As she unfolded the paper, the front-page headline caught her eye first:

“Angmar's National Council Finally Normalized!”

“Celebrating One Year of Alliance Between Leones and Drayco...”

“Ahead of the One-Imp-Per-Household Act Launching in April...”

“Ugh! There’s nothing but boring news—! Just where in the paper did they put the Marumaru Doll advertisement!?”

The red imp doll Marumaru was the main revenue source of the Black Angmar Company. They’d recently spent a fortune running an ad, but couldn’t find which page it had landed on.

Flap, flap.

Tartart flipped through the pages, her red eyes skimming wildly through the print.

“Simultaneous Slump Among Magicians Worldwide?”

“Spring Comes a Bit Early This Year, Weather Warms Considerably.”

Just as her eyes were zipping across another article, they came to a stop.

“After a Clear Morning, Occasional Showers of Flower Petals Expected.”

Showers of flower petals?

Tartart let out a phuhuhu laugh. As if petals could really fall from the sky like rain. If such a thing were possible, it could only be called magic or a miracle.

Flit.

At that moment, something tickled Tartart’s nose. She reached up—and caught a soft, pink petal, delicate as a baby fingernail.

“Waaah—”

Tartart’s usually prickly face lit up in an instant. When she raised her head, she saw petals fluttering gently down from the sky.

Flutter, flutter. Sway, sway.

One by one, people walking through the streets stopped in their tracks. Windows all across the city swung open.

Children and carefree imps reached toward the sky, holding up big buckets and bowls.

Overwhelmed by the beautiful, fairytale-like scene, Tartart ran—she dashed straight toward the Black Angmar Company’s main building.

She wanted to climb to the 7th-floor window and take in this magical view with her sisters, all at once!

When she arrived, the wide company grounds were already filled with imps—colorful tails bristling—who had poured into the garden to look up at the sky.

Among them stood Comrade President Marmar.

Tartart called out to her,

“Marmar! It’s raining flower petals—! Someone must be up there on the clouds, scattering petals everywhere—! They’d be perfect for doll dyes...!”

At that, President Marmar’s eyes sparkled.

“Let’s gather them all!”

The imps all swarmed the garden, collecting the petals scattered across the ground. But no matter how many they gathered, the petals kept falling without end, and the imps grew more and more delighted.

Someone said,

“This weather feels like magic...!”

Magic.

Just as they said—this strange weather could only be described as magic. But then, who in the world could cast such a grand spell?

“It must be Queen Ayra of Angmar casting it—! Only Queen Ayra von Tarantella could handle magic on this scale!”

The queen of Angmar, known as the greatest magician alive?

“No, it must be the old grandpas from Highlord—! Even though Queen Ayra’s skilled, only those sage old grandpas could pull off something this wide-reaching!”

The Highlord elders, hailed as sages?

“Maybe it’s Prince Kasim casting magic to woo some pretty girl...!”

Or perhaps Kasim, the red jewel of Turki, wandering the world on endless travels?

If you asked, “Who is the strongest magician?”, the debate would rage on all day with countless opinions.

But Marmar knew.

If you asked, “Who is the greatest magician in the world?”—

Everyone would give the same name.

“...Comrade.”

Amid the falling petals, Marmar felt warmth. And perhaps the others did too, for they stopped gathering petals—and one by one, began running into the streets.

No special reason.

Just that their long-awaited master, no, their dear friend, was finally coming home.

***

Certainly. Here's the faithful continuation of Chapter 449 – Clear Skies, Then Occasional Showers of Petals #2 from Taming The Villainesses, English translation:

* * *

The court assembly of the Royal Palace of Angmar was always held under solemn and rigid atmosphere. The ministers and retainers could do little more than glance nervously at the queen’s furrowed brow.

“Mm-hmm.”

“Ahem.”

Not one of them dared to speak plainly; all were tiptoeing around. The only one who could be counted on during times like this was the formidable Chancellor, Reinhardt von Leones.

Normally, he would have broken the tension and spoken his mind regardless—but even he today wore a deep frown as he sat before the queen in silence.

Thanks to that, the ministers felt as though holes were boring into their stomachs. More than one of them contemplated quitting court affairs altogether, heading to the countryside, and living out their days watching their grandchildren and raising dogs.

“If only that man were here today...”

He had been resented in many ways—but no one could deny that when it came to handling the capricious queen, there was no man more suited.

Why had they worked so hard to slander and drive a wedge between the queen and that man?

Perhaps because, deep down, they believed he would never truly leave her side.

But now, it had been almost one full year since he vanished without a trace.

And so, the ministers who had once scorned him now found themselves missing him. If he were to return, they’d treat him better this time. They’d invite him to dinner, polish his shoes, and bring him gifts.

But—

Everyone in this chamber knew it was no longer possible.

And worse yet, they all knew: his name should never be spoken lightly again.

That was when—

“Well then—”

The one to break the long silence was none other than Lady Narmee. At her voice, the ministers all brightened as if glimpsing a ray of hope.

“Well then, seeing as we’re already ten minutes past lunchtime! Let’s wrap it up here and go eat!”

A few small sighs of relief echoed through the room. Right—despite all the work, couldn’t they at least be allowed a lunch break?

Even if there’s work to do, let us eat, was what everyone silently agreed on.

It had been a good while since the queen and her noble entourage had returned from what could only be described as a wild, runaway escapade.

Since then, the political situation in Angmar had stabilized remarkably. Crops and fisheries were booming, ushering in a golden age.

“And before we go, I—President Leadernoi of Pallen Village—hereby propose the establishment of a continental railway system and national healthcare insurance! Though, uh, I have no idea how any of that works!”

They’d returned from beyond the great barrier with unheard-of systems and wildly advanced technologies.

The public outrage over their spontaneous disappearance on the wedding day? It had melted away in mere days—swept aside by a rapidly transforming world.

But for about a year after that, the ministers had been drowning in relentless overtime. The only glimpses they caught of their families were of them sleeping.

It was just then—

“Narmee, Ayra! Come quick!”

Someone came sprinting in, flinging the doors of the council chamber open wide. With her silver hair and pale face flushed red, she was the spitting image of Lady Narmee von Drayco.

Of course, it was Mirna.

To see the normally serene, modest, and composed Mirna looking so flustered—everyone was shocked. At once, they all hurried out after her.

And when they emerged into the garden, they froze.

Colorful flower petals were raining from the sky.

Even the oldest of court elders, who had lived long enough to believe they’d seen everything, were struck speechless by the sight. It was... beautiful.

While everyone stood in silent awe—

Queen Ayra von Tarantella, who had been knitting her brows in constant worry, looked out over the garden and spoke in a soft, gentle voice:

“Today, let’s all go home early. Go have lunch with your families. Take a proper rest.”

No one opposed her.

They simply turned to go, gazing at the falling petals—heading off to wherever their families might be looking up at the same sky.

Swish.

Behind them, Ayra reached out and plucked a small, delicate petal.

A black rose.

A petal that recalled the queen once dubbed the Flower of Evil.

“You’re finally coming.”

At last, a smile returned to Ayra’s lips.

One that hadn’t bloomed in a very long time.

It was a smile like early spring.

Smiling, she began walking—toward somewhere. And behind her, Mirna and Narmee came running after.

***

“Ra-ah... A-uh...”

“Elga, did you hear that just now? Leonoi called me Stella! I swear!”

“She was probably just babbling.”

Professor Stella, as always, made a big deal out of everything. Ever since Leonoi was born, she had barely calmed down even once.

“They say young imps develop fast—Leonoi must be the same!”

Still, it was thanks to Stella’s help that Elga had it easier. Neither Mirna, nor Ayra, nor Narmee were particularly suited to childrearing.

For Elga, having someone like Stella—who had accumulated all kinds of knowledge over her long life and now helped like a true older sister, like family—was a rare blessing.

No... that’s wrong.

Not like family.

They are family now.

They had been born at different times, raised in different worlds, even of different races—but Elga and Stella were family. So were Mirna and Narmee. And so was Ayra.

Sometimes it all felt too surreal. So dreamlike it seemed they’d been caught up in magic.

Magic.

That must be it.

It was the magic cast by the man said to be the world’s greatest magician—a spell that bound completely different people together under the name family.

As Stella poked Leonoi’s soft cheek with her finger, the little one let out a cry.

“Hyiiieee!”

“Even her scream is just like an imp. I mean, of course it is—she is one.”

Stella laughed brightly as she looked at Leonoi.

“Can you believe it? Not a quarter-imp, but a full imp was born. So many scholars studied the mystery of imp birth—and now we learn the answer like this?”

Apparently, when a half-imp gives birth, the child is not a quarter-imp, but a full imp.

How exactly it worked was a mystery. But if they kept having more kids and studied it properly, maybe they could finally unravel the hidden truth behind imp birth.

“So then, what would be born from a half-imp and a pure elf, huh?”

“Stella, stop treating the child like research data.”

“Aren’t you curious too, Elga?”

“...Well.”

She was, honestly.

But she didn’t say it aloud.

Because Elga still couldn’t quite believe that this little imp had been born from her. A golden-haired imp. Fairies came in all colors, but golden ones were rare.

Her smooth forehead and delicate nose looked just like hers.

And those sea-colored eyes—

No, those blue eyes looked more like his.

Elga closed her eyes for a moment and pictured the man’s oceanic gaze. The fact that she could still recall it so vividly brought her comfort.

But at the same time, it saddened her.

What if even those memories faded someday?

Come home already. Before I forget you.

Just as that bitter longing pressed on her chest and made her lips clamp shut—

“Fufufu...”

A tiny giggle came from the cradle.

Looking down, Elga saw Leonoi’s blue eyes reflecting a swirl of color—just like the sea and the sky.

Elga turned her head to look out the window.

And outside—

A spring that had come far sooner than expected—

Or perhaps, one that had arrived far later than expected—

Was falling.

Fluttering down, petal by petal.

Elga and Stella, as if drawn by some invisible force, stepped out of the room and made their way into the garden.

“Elga, look!”

Stella suddenly pointed upward.

When Elga looked up, she saw it.

Above her head, in the bright midday sky—where no stars should ever shine—countless stars began to twinkle. A storm of stars, spinning and swirling.

A meteor shower.

Stars were falling to earth alongside the petals.

And among them, one especially large and beautiful star blazed across the sky, trailing a ⊛ Nоvеlιght ⊛ (Read the full story) long tail of fire...

Falling toward the far-off hill in the distance.