I May Be A Villainess, But I Won't Live My Life That Way - Chapter 63

Chapter 63

“When will I be discharged?”

The special ward of the current hospital wasn’t bad, but compared to my room, it wasn’t that great. I naturally wanted to go back home.

“I haven’t heard about that yet, but based on my experience, it’ll probably take about two months for the wounds to fully heal. But I think it’ll only take about a week to return to your usual activities.”

“Really?”

I nodded in response to the new information. Then I realized that Ricardo had just mentioned ‘experience.’

“Have you ever been stabbed with a knife?”

“Quite a few times.”

Ricardo nodded as if it were obvious. I was quite surprised, as I had never thought about it before.

Ricardo always returned from war without major injuries. And he always returned as a confident victor, not a defeated soldier.

I just vaguely thought that his swordsmanship was excellent, and his leadership skills were outstanding, so he never got hurt.

“Why? Are you curious?”

Was my expression revealing my curiosity? Ricardo looked at me intently and asked. I nodded slightly to indicate my curiosity, and Ricardo raised his hand to brush aside his hair.

As he did, I noticed a faint red scar about the size of two fingertips near the border between his forehead and hair.

Come to think of it, Ricardo always had his bangs down, and even when attending formal events, he would naturally sweep his hair to the side.

It suited him well, so I never thought he was covering up a scar.

“When did that happen?”

“At the Shampart Battle.”

As if he was only answering what I had asked, Riccardo looked at me, waiting for more questions. When I continued to stare at him, as if urging him to say more, he looked at me for a moment and then made a gesture as if saying, ‘Ah, I see.’

“Suddenly, an axe flew at me.”

“An axe?”

Not a sword or a spear, but an axe!

“The northern immigrants often use large axes. Due to their small stature and strong bodies, they prefer axes or slings that match their strength rather than long spears or swords.”

“I see.”

Come to think of it, I seemed to have read about that in the book about wars that I borrowed to understand Ricardo’s trauma.

“That must have hurt.”

“Not really.”

Ricardo shrugged as if it was nothing, but with my wound still fresh from two days ago, I could easily imagine how painful his injury must have been.

As I reached out slightly, my hand brushed against Ricardo’s scar. The scar, slightly raised above the skin, felt smoother than usual. As my fingers traced it, it felt like sharing his past, which I had not known until now.

“Do you have any other scars?”

Ricardo silently pulled up his right sleeve, revealing a round, deep scar on the inside of his muscular arm.

“When did this happen?”

“At the Federell Battle.”

Once again, his answer was brief. But having heard Ricardo’s previous answers, I could infer the answer on my own.

“You were hit by arrows from the southern immigrants.”

“How did you know?”

“Federell is in the southern region of Sprendo, and the southern immigrants are skilled in horsemanship and archery.”

Responding as I had read in the book, Ricardo nodded.

“That must have hurt.”

Though I didn’t know much about scars, this one looked bigger than the one on his forehead. Moreover, while he narrowly avoided the axe, it seemed he couldn’t avoid the arrow, so this one must have hurt more.

As I gently touched Ricardo’s scarred arm, he looked down at my hand, softly caressing his scar.

“Do you have any more scars?”

I wanted to know more.

Despite knowing him for a long time, there was so much about Ricardo’s past, and his scars and pain, that I didn’t know.

“There’s one that’s the biggest.”

“More than this?”

Even this seemed like a severe injury, so when Ricardo said there was something worse, I widened my eyes.

Godness! Why did I always assume that Ricardo returning unscathed was a given?

“Here.”

He said, lifting his shirt slightly. As my gaze followed his direction, I saw a fairly long scar on his lower abdomen. It looked like it had been cut by something or perhaps stabbed by a knife.

It was much larger than the scars on his forehead or arm, so I guessed it must have hurt even more. As I gently touched it, I felt him flinch.

“Does it hurt?”

For the first time, Ricardo reacted, and I quickly withdrew my hand, startled. Although it seemed fully healed, I had read in books that scars like these could still cause pain depending on the body’s condition.

The books also mentioned that even the pain of a missing arm could be felt, indicating it was a type of trauma that occurred during the war.

Ricardo could also be experiencing that.

“No, it doesn’t hurt. It’s an old scar, so it’s not painful anymore.”

With a stoic face, Ricardo said, as if someone had just startled him a moment ago.

“But…”

Glancing back at the scar again, I trailed off. It was situated on one side of his firm abs. Despite being in a relaxed posture, his abdominal muscles showed no signs of relaxation.

It was like the statue of a renowned sculptor I had seen in an art museum once. Very firm, yet delicate.

“Oh…!”

It was then that I realized why Ricardo had flinched. At that moment, my face flushed with embarrassment.

“Um, I’ve seen enough.”

I quickly withdrew my hand and turned my head away.

And in that moment, I realized something else. That what I had just said was completely inappropriate.

“Seeing enough” was something you said after admiring something or having a good look at something. It wasn’t something you said after looking at someone’s scars or abs.

Did Ricardo also feel that what I just said was odd?

Glancing at him for a moment, Ricardo was simply lowering his shirt with an indifferent expression.

“Oh, Bianca.”

As our eyes met, Ricardo opened his mouth as if he had just remembered something.

“When would be a good time for the wedding?”

“Hmm?”

“In my opinion, your wounds should be fully healed in about two months. You’ll still need to be a bit careful with movements, but a wedding procession should be possible by then. If you prefer, three months later would be fine too.”

“Wait, Ricardo.”

“But I still hope we can proceed quickly.”

I tried to interrupt Ricardo while he paused for a moment, but he continued his sentence smoothly, like water flowing.

“Isn’t that too hasty?”

“After waiting for ten years for a wedding, no one would consider getting married today as hasty, right?”

He said it as if he had been waiting desperately for a wedding for the past ten years. I couldn’t quite grasp Ricardo’s sudden change in attitude.

From confession to kiss as soon as I woke up, and now straight to marriage. Even if it were someone else, such a stormy progression would leave one dazed.

“Ricardo, I’m a patient. Did you forget?”

I placed my hand gently over the area near my abdomen, where I suspected there might be a slight wound.

“Of course, I didn’t forget. If I had, I would have suggested having the wedding tomorrow.”

Surprisingly, I discovered a new side of Ricardo. Who knew he was such an impulsive man!

“Still, I just woke up from fainting, and suddenly, a wedding? It’s too sudden. Shouldn’t we decide on such things more seriously and thoughtfully?”

“Is that so?”

Ricardo’s shoulders sagged ever so slightly. He seemed to be pondering something as he glanced at me briefly. Or perhaps he was checking my reaction.

“Is there… a problem?”

“Hmm?”

“I mean, if you don’t want to get married or…”

He stopped speaking after that, as if he couldn’t bring himself to continue.

Come to think of it, I remembered bringing up the topic of breaking up the engagement with him before. I wasn’t sure if that bothered him.

“Ricardo.”

“…”

“I’m going to marry you.”

I said, looking straight into his eyes. I wanted to reassure Ricardo.

Whether this marriage would truly happen, whether the other person wanted it or not, or whether it didn’t matter if they wanted it or not, I was content with just getting a straight answer. Worrying about what the other person was thinking, that sort of thing wasn’t important. Just getting married was what mattered, even if it was enough for the past me.

“Okay.”

Seeing Ricardo’s slight smile, I couldn’t help but smile back.

Yes, perhaps this was what it meant for our hearts to connect.

Asking questions, having conversations, showing concern.

For the first time in a long while, or maybe even for the first time ever, it felt like I was having a cheerful conversation with Ricardo. It wasn’t about exchanging information, sharing opinions, or reaching a conclusion. This kind of atmosphere in our conversation was new.

“If we were to get married, how many children do you think would be good?”

I asked him partly as a joke, wanting to see his reaction.

Ricardo liked children. You could tell by how he softened up when dealing with orphanage kids.

When big boys followed him for sword training, he smiled proudly. When girls chattered around him, he smiled affectionately.

There was no need to mention the little ones like Lara.

Perhaps Ricardo wanted to have many children. Four or five, or maybe even more.

“Ricardo?”

I smiled at him, wondering why he wasn’t answering. He seemed to be lost in thought, nibbling on his lip and staring at me with uncertain eyes.

“What’s wrong? Is something on your mind?”

“Smile Love”