A Villain's Way of Taming Heroines

Chapter 459: Boy - One - I

On a street nearly devoid of pedestrians, an elderly man and a boy stood silently amidst a torrential downpour.

"Young lord," the umbrella-holding elder inquired, "shall we return now?"

"Just a moment longer, Saville."

The boy, adorned in an elegant black suit, gazed across the street at the opulent manor, murmuring softly, "Just a moment longer."

Saville was utterly devoted to Ansel's commands, yet he was unaware of why Ansel insisted on lingering after the ball had ended, uncertain of what awaited.

Moments later, a slight twitch caught the corner of his eye.

With the sharpness of a hawk, the elder's gaze, illuminated by the lightning, spotted a shadow with a knife in the window of a side building.

"Baron Whitman ought to be dead."

So declared Ansel, "Go check, Saville."

"Yes, young lord."

Saville handed the umbrella to Ansel, and in the next instant, his figure shifted dramatically.

He took the umbrella from Ansel, his expression peculiar, "He is indeed dead, and—"

"And it was his own wife who killed him... Let's go."

The young Hydral lowered his gaze and turned to leave.

The old butler followed closely behind his young master, puzzled by the fact that they had come merely for a simple dance and had never had any dealings with Baron Whitman before, yet Ansel had instantly recognized the bizarre murder. However, Saville never spoke more than necessary.

"Ah, Ans!"

At the entrance to the Hydral estate, standing in the rain, Annelisa spotted the returning Ansel from afar and joyfully waved at the boy, "Come and dance with mom!"

The Lady Hydral at present was dancing in the rain with the blooming flora at the manor's entrance, exuding joy and freedom.

Despite her ability to let the rain slide off her without a trace, she chose not to. Her golden hair, as radiant as the sun, was drenched, and her thick, conservative gown less voluminous. Her youthful, fair face was dotted with raindrops, yet her eyes shined brightly, piercing through the gloomy weather like stars breaking through storm clouds.

As the woman danced, the rustling of the flowers and trees blended into the relentless downpour, playing a cheerful melody that overpowers the somber mood of the weather. With each step into the shallow puddles, flowers bloomed beneath her, lifting her figure. Thus, Lady Hydral danced with light and splendid steps, humming a tune as she approached Ansel.

"Clang!"

Annelisa, lifting her sodden, heavy skirt, performed a curtsy, her face adorned with a radiant, unrestrained smile, devoid of the demureness expected of a lady.

The woman blinked, "How was my dance?"

Ansel touched his face, "You splashed rain on me, mother."

"Such fuss!"

With a huff, Annelisa pulled Ansel out from under the umbrella held by Saville, shaking off her hand, "Saville, you may go back now."

"...Yes, madam."

The elder nodded slightly, his figure vanishing from the spot.

Annelisa's spirits lifted, and it was as though the sun had broken through the clouds, spotlighting only Ansel and his dance partner. The light that enveloped him moved with his steps, making Ansel the center of the universe.

"Besides her appearance, do you perceive any other merits in her?"

"Quietude, thoughtfulness, grace, erudition... and a genuine fondness for me," Ansel responded calmly to his mother's vexing inquiry.

"The last point need not be reiterated! I am aware that every girl adores you."

Annelisa's heels clicked crisply against the floor as she swayed, her disdain for Ansel's words clear: "Mediocre! Such girls are far too common, utterly unremarkable!"

"There are but thirteen grand dukes in the empire, Mother."

The woman snorted, "And there is only one Ans."

"Your 'gentleness' towards women always seems tinged with hostility."

"What are you implying, that I am not gentle enough?"

Annelisa was infuriated, and Ansel's floral dance partner gently tripped him by the ankles, but he spun around and executed a spectacular dance move that drew applause.

"It means, Mother, that you are unconventional, and it is precisely for this reason that you captured Father's heart."

"...That's more like it."

Annelisa muttered, then resumed orchestrating the tempest to vary Ansel's performance.

Her music was devoid of any set pattern, a pure flow of emotion, sometimes rhythmically perfect, sometimes inexplicably odd, yet Ansel always managed to adjust his steps perfectly to the unpredictable changes.

The boy dancing in the storm was flawless in every aspect, beyond reproach.

Yet, watching her perfect son, Annelisa's smile gradually faded as she improvised her music.

She suddenly asked:

"Ans, did you enjoy the ball?"

"..."

The young Hydral hesitated for a moment, marring the otherwise perfect dance steps, but he quickly adjusted and calmly replied, "I was content."

Annelisa asked softly, "What delicacies were there at the ball?"

"... The steamed blue lobster was quite decent."

"Besides your little dance partner, are there any other charming young ladies?"

"Mr. Oma's eldest daughter, the companion of the president of the Keta Commerce Association..."

"Were there any amusing activities, intriguing characters, or marvelous events?"

"..."

In the torrential rain, the boy who had maintained perfection remained silent, perhaps because there was none, or perhaps because... he could not answer the question.

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