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🖤 The Villainess Just Wants to Sleep

Chapter 13: The Girl Who Mends What Bleeds

> “Some magic heals wounds.

Others, the soul.”

— Unknown healer’s journal

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The Herbal Magic Courtyard was the quietest corner of the Academy — tucked between the greenhouse and the infirmary, where the air always smelled faintly of mint and sun-warmed parchment.

Kaelaira had never entered this part of the campus before.

But today, she had been asked to deliver scrolls from the central archives.

She walked silently between rows of enchanted herbs, trailing fingers over leaves that glowed faintly at her touch.

And then she heard humming.

Soft. Sweet. A lullaby from the Western valleys.

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There, kneeling beneath a flowering moonvine, was a girl in pale green robes — sleeves rolled up, hands gently glowing with healing light as she touched the petals of a sick plant.

She looked up with wide, startled eyes.

> “Oh — forgive me! I didn’t see you approach!”

Kaelaira blinked. The girl was… small. Maybe her age. Her braid was too loose, her robes a bit stained with soil, but her eyes — they shimmered like warm spring water.

> “You’re… Kaelaira, right?” the girl asked nervously. “The one who dueled the Crown Prince?”

Kaelaira said nothing at first. Then gave a practiced nod.

> “Yes. And you are?”

The girl stood and wiped her hands on her robe.

> “Lysa Verain. Daughter of Baron Verain. My family isn’t important, really… I’m just here for the healer’s track. I specialize in regenerative magic.”

Kaelaira tilted her head. “A rare field.”

Lysa grinned sheepishly. “Everyone else wanted elemental glory. I just wanted to stop people from hurting.”

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Kaelaira handed her the scrolls.

Their fingers brushed.

Lysa blinked, then blurted, “Your hands are cold.”

Kaelaira smiled faintly. “They always are.”

Lysa hesitated — then, instead of looking away like most students did, she gently took Kaelaira’s hand in both of hers.

Her magic sparked — just enough to warm Kaelaira’s skin.

> “There,” Lysa whispered. “Everyone deserves a little warmth.”

Kaelaira froze.

No one had ever… done that.

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They sat together by the vine archway after that, speaking softly.

For once, Kaelaira didn’t feel the need to speak with caution or strategy.

Lysa was simple. Honest. Sweet. And unafraid.

When the bells rang for class, Lysa stood and waved.

> “If you ever get tired of pretending to be strong all the time… I’ll be here. I can’t protect you, but I can patch you up.”

Kaelaira blinked.

Then, for the first time in years—

> She smiled. Not the practiced one.

Not the hollow one.

A real one. Just small. Just enough.

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Later that night, in her private dorm, Kaelaira wrote a single name into her black journal of court names and noble titles.

Under “Useful Allies,” she scratched a line.

And under it, wrote:

> Lysa Verain — Healer. Honest. Important.

Then closed the book, held it against her chest, and whispered:

> “Maybe this world isn’t all poison.”

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End of Chapter 13

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