The Abandoned Villainess Became a Zombie - Chapter 15

I left Idorian behind and entered my room, closing the door.

He seemed to want to clear up the misunderstanding, but I couldn’t let the conversation drag on in front of Rumi’s room.

And in the first place, it wasn’t even a misunderstanding.

Maybe Idorian himself hadn’t realized it, but I knew—because I had read the novel.

If the one in danger on the mountain had been Lilia, not me, he would have saved her no matter what.

Of course, Lilia was a lovable person, even in my eyes. In contrast, Penelope Lloyd was always a burden, never of any help—so in hindsight, it was only natural that Idorian would feel differently toward us.

‘I understand that, just like he said, it’s not a given that he should help me…’

Still, it was bitter to think that things which wouldn’t be acceptable for Lilia were inevitable for me, Penelope. Because that meant I could be left to die at any moment.

He had abandoned me without the slightest hesitation.

It hadn’t been a mistake—so if another moment of choice came to him, he would abandon me again.

The moment he found out I was a zombie.

‘Is there anyone in this fortress who would stand up for me?’

If I could be sure I wouldn’t be killed—just exiled—that alone would ease my fears.

Staying close to the protagonists may be the fastest and safest way to return to being human, but as long as I’m alive, I’ll find a way somehow.

If only I had possessed Lilia instead, I wouldn’t have to live in constant fear of death even if I were a zombie.

Uben, who followed her loyally as though indebted to her for his life. Heresden, who looked agonized over the smallest scratch on her hand. Even Idorian, who would save her no matter what danger she faced. They all cared for Lilia.

If those people began to feel even a little warmth toward me, too…

‘Maybe they wouldn’t kill me. Maybe they’d at least let me live and drive me out?’

Of course, no matter how hard I tried, I could never become someone like Lilia to them. But if I could earn even a sliver of goodwill, perhaps I could avoid the worst-case scenario.

Then, maybe all I had to do was become kind, like Lilia?

“……”

I doubted whether any effort on my part could ever turn their resentment toward Penelope into affection, but I shook my head to rid myself of the anxiety.

It would be best if they never found out I was a zombie, but just in case, I had to do whatever I could.

Even if I wasn’t certain, it was something I had to try.

First of all, I decided to make curtains for Rumi, who was now staying here.

If the bright sunlight made him sleep poorly and he ended up with another nosebleed, I’d be the one suffering. So I quickly got started on the sewing.

It helped that Penelope had once learned embroidery, wanting to make a gift for Idorian whom she loved.

I cut up unused blankets and bedsheets a little larger than the window size and stitched them so a curtain rod could go through.

Of course, the sewing was far from perfect. The stitches were wide and uneven, with threads sticking out here and there, and the shape was a mess—but it still did the job of blocking the sunlight.

And more than anything, this was the best I could do in this body.

Still, as I neared the end, the stitches became more even and the shape improved. It seemed I was slowly getting used to using this body.

By the time I finished the curtains, the sun had already set and dusk had fallen.

Knock knock.

“Lady, it’s time for dinner.”

Just as I was inspecting the finished curtain, Lilia knocked on my door.

“Lady, did you finish the curtain? I can help you hang it.”

When I stepped out of the room, she peeked in, checked inside, and pointed to the window.

“Ah, no. It’s not for my room.”

“Huh? Then for…?”

Lilia blinked quickly.

“For Rumi. It seems he gets nosebleeds when he’s tired from lack of sleep.”

Lilia looked at me with an expression that said, ‘Why?’

It was as if she couldn’t understand why I was the one making curtains just because he wasn’t sleeping well.

“You made it for him?”

After a moment of thought, Lilia asked in confusion.

“Ah…”

I hadn’t expected her—who had always accepted everything I said without question—to ask something like this…

“It’s a bit of a long story, but… I’m scared of zombies. Even though I know it’s safe inside the fortress, just hearing their sounds terrifies me.”

After a moment’s hesitation, I made up an excuse.

“That’s why I don’t want to draw zombies with the smell of blood.”

The moment I saw the compassion deepen in Lilia’s eyes, I hesitated slightly, but I finished my words to the end.

“…I see.”

Seeing the look on her face, pained to the point she looked like she might cry, it was clear she was imagining something—and I could guess what it was.

She was probably picturing poor me, trembling alone in the mountains at the sound of zombies.

Because of what I had just said, Lilia must have concluded that I had developed severe trauma due to zombies.

“Ah, um…”

…But this wasn’t so bad, was it?

“I hate the smell of blood.”

If this went well, maybe I could get away with openly avoiding blood from now on.

“It’s just… so, so terrifying.”

“Ah… I see.”

As I bowed my head in anguish and hugged my arms around myself, I must have looked so pitiful that Lilia finally let out a small sigh and hugged me.

It was the very moment I gained a valid reason.

I didn’t know since when, but Idorian had also been standing in the hallway. Before long, he turned his back, so I couldn’t see his expression.

But his red lips were tightly shut.

***

Now, let’s organize things.

1. When I become a zombie, all my physical abilities decrease. However, when awakened by the smell of blood, I surpass human physical capacity.
2. Once awakened, the zombie’s instinct to bite people intensifies, and the veins swell enough to be noticeable.
3. After awakening ends, I feel extremely fatigued. I can fall asleep suddenly, and for a while, I become more sensitive than usual to the smell of blood.

Tap, tap, tap.

I sat down to write what I had come to understand about my body, but the list ended quickly.

Tap tap, tap.

Though I thought I had grown somewhat accustomed to this body, the pitifully short list and the still mostly empty page said otherwise.

Tapping the paper meaninglessly, I soon gave up trying to recall more features of a zombie and carefully folded the sheet, tucking it deep into the desk drawer.

Instead, I reviewed the novel’s plot.

Before the Emperor’s army reached this fortress to rescue the Crown Prince, the main characters had spent quite a long time here.

The distance from the capital to this Mendwil estate could be covered in half a day on horseback, but with the dire situation of ceaseless zombie outbreaks, it had taken the Imperial Army a full eight months to reach the fortress.

Eight months…

It would surely be a long and difficult time, but if I could endure that, I would be able to safely return to the capital under the army’s protection.

Of course, it would take another four months to return to the capital, but—

If I survived for a total of one year and made it back to the capital as in the original story, I planned to lock myself away in the duke’s residence until a cure was found.

If I kept mingling with people, the risk of being found out as a zombie would only increase.

After surviving all the way to the capital, if I were to be discovered there—what a cruel waste that would be.

Fortunately, unlike the novel, Rumi had not died, which meant there was now a possibility that the situation could be resolved sooner than expected.

He was the only man in the novel ever called a genius.

I couldn’t remember exactly, but I recalled that Idorian had often expressed regret over Rumi’s death because he had once developed some kind of cure.

‘What was the cure again?’

I agonized for a long time, but I couldn’t recall it clearly—probably because I didn’t remember all the details of the novel.

Still, what mattered was that he was already an acknowledged researcher.

“It’s raining.”

As I turned my head without much thought, I saw the window gradually being soaked through.

I thought of Idorian and Rumi’s clothes, which Uben had diligently hung out, and stood up.

Before the rain got heavier, I headed down the stairs with the thought of gathering the laundry from the backyard.

Everyone seemed to be asleep, except for Heresden, who was on watch near the outer fortress—the hallway was completely quiet.

When I reached the backyard, the clothes Uben had hung were already quite damp from the heavy drops of rain.

I hurriedly gathered the laundry and entered the building, only to run into Uben, who had been running down the stairs and passed right by me—then stopped.

“Aren’t those the clothes I hung up?”

“Yes, it started raining.”

“Give them to me.”

At his stiff voice, I handed the clothes I was holding to the boy.

“What is this?!”

The moment he took the clothes, Uben threw them to the floor and shouted.