Reincarnated As A First Rate Villain: I Don't Know How To Play My Role-Chapter 42

Morning crept gently through the aged wooden slats of the inn’s shutters, its golden rays pouring over the interior with a soft glow. A cool breeze filtered through the narrow gap beneath the window, carrying with it the scent of dew-kissed earth and warm bread from the kitchen below. Inside the modest guest room, Lucien lay undisturbed, his tall frame partially swaddled in the white linen sheets. His silver-white hair, tousled from sleep, fanned across the pillow like strands of moonlight. His face was peaceful, boyish even, unmarred by the concerns of the world.

Then, a knock.

It came gently at first, then again with a rhythm that was almost apologetic. The sound reached Lucien’s dreaming mind like the first whisper of dawn. He stirred, slowly. A quiet yawn escaped his lips as he sat up halfway in bed, his back slouched and his legs still tucked beneath the covers. He rubbed his eyes sleepily with the back of one hand, blinking against the brightness as reality returned.

Another knock.

Lucien stood, stretching lazily as the sheets fell away from his chest. The wooden floor was cool beneath his feet. His long white robe, slightly wrinkled from sleep, clung to him loosely. He dragged his feet toward the door, his hair a silver halo of disarray.

He opened the door.

Standing there was Maid Marie, already presentable and neat, her shoulder-length brown hair combed carefully and tucked behind one ear. Her brown eyes, warm and ever-attentive, met Lucien’s sleepy gaze.

"Good morning, young master," she said, her voice as soft as the morning light.

"Mm... morning," Lucien murmured, his voice still hoarse with sleep. He yawned again, covering his mouth with a hand.

Marie smiled and gently bowed her head. "Lets take our breakfast young master. Also there’s a bathing room down the hall if you’d like to wash up first."

Lucien nodded slowly, stretching his arms above his head until his joints popped. "Thank you, Marie."

They made their way down the creaking staircase together. The inn’s dining hall was a far quieter place now than the lively mess it had been the previous night. Only a few adventurers lingered, seated at wooden tables littered with maps, mugs, and half-finished plates. Their chatter was low and subdued, half-formed plans and complaints shared over weak ale and fresh bread.

"--I’m telling you, we should head north. The Frostfang Caverns are mostly empty this time of year."

"Empty, he says. Like those frost wraiths don’t count."

"Better than staying here while everyone panics over the damn system."

"Keep your voice down! You want to jinx it or something?"

"Bah, nothing’s going to happen. They just need to reboot whatever it is. It’s not the end of the world."

Lucien glanced briefly in their direction before settling into a table by the window. Morning sunlight filtered through the antique glass, casting dappled shadows across the tabletop.

A young boy—the same one from the night before—approached their table. He looked slightly nervous but eager to serve. In his hand was a notepad and pencil, clearly ready to take their order.

"Good morning!" the boy said, offering them the modest menu with a polite bow.

Lucien accepted it with a nod, flipping through the handwritten list of options. Most were simple fare—stews, bread, eggs, dried fruits. Just what travelers needed.

After placing their order, the boy scampered off toward the counter where a gruff, bearded man—likely the cook or owner—glanced over the note with a grunt and started to prepare their food.

Lucien leaned back in his chair, letting his gaze drift toward the hearth. "Where’s Knight Rex? And the others?"

"Tending to the horses and carriages," Marie replied, pouring him a glass of water. "They took turns throughout the night to keep watch around the inn. Rex was very thorough."

Lucien nodded. "That sounds like him."

For a few moments, silence lingered between them, broken only by the distant clatter of dishes and the soft crackle of the hearth.

Lucien turned to her again. "Did you sleep well, Marie?"

She looked momentarily surprised by the question, then smiled. "I did, thank you. And you, young master?"

Lucien gave a small smile in return. "Very well. It’s been a while since I slept that deeply."

She was about to respond when the boy returned, balancing a tray with two plates and a pitcher. He set the food before them with practiced care: warm buttered bread, lightly salted eggs, grilled vegetables, and a bowl of fruit preserves. Nothing extravagant, but comforting.

Lucien thanked the boy, who beamed and scurried off to continue wiping down other tables.

They began to eat in peaceful silence. Marie occasionally glanced up to check on Lucien, noting the way his eyes still held the faint traces of drowsiness and how he seemed more relaxed than usual.

She smiled quietly to herself.

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As the last bite of their breakfast disappeared from their plates, Maid Marie dabbed her lips with a napkin and turned toward Lucien with her usual warm, dutiful smile.

"Young Master," she said gently, her voice brushing through the air like morning dew, "if you would, please go at the far left end of the corridor, there’s an available bathroom there. Sir Rex asked me to pass along a dimensional pouch with your change of clothes. He said they were chosen specifically for comfort."

Lucien blinked once, still in a soft haze from his well-rested state. His silver-white hair was slightly tousled, curling in soft waves around his cheeks, giving him the look of a noble just roused from a painting. He looked at the pouch she handed over and gave a small, sleepy nod. "Alright... thank you, Marie."

She offered a slight curtsy. "I’ll settle the bill and wait for you here. Please take your time."

Lucien made his way down the corridor, the sound of wooden floorboards creaking softly beneath his steps. The inn was quiet now, the earlier morning chatter faded into muffled echoes, and the distant hum of wind brushing against the windowpanes offered a serene companion to his thoughts.

The bathroom, though simple in its build, had a warmth to it. Wooden panels lined the walls, and a large bath—already filled with steaming water infused with soft-scented herbs—waited in the center. Ivory-hued soap rested neatly on the wooden shelf nearby, alongside a fresh towel. The steam curled like spirits in the air, inviting him.

Lucien disrobed slowly, folding the white robe and setting it aside. He stepped into the bath, and the warmth engulfed his tall figure. A quiet sigh left his lips.

It felt... good.

His newly awakened body, matured and transformed, seemed to soak in the warmth differently now. Muscles previously absent now relaxed with quiet strength. The scent of the water mixed with soft floral oils, easing the last remnants of tension from the events of the previous day. It was a rare moment of stillness, where he could simply be.

After several long minutes of relaxing and washing, Lucien finally stood, reaching for the towel. He dried himself slowly, carefully, still unfamiliar with the slight height difference and the grown frame he now occupied. It was strange. Both exhilarating and a bit disorienting.

He opened the dimensional pouch and pulled out the change of clothes. To his surprise, they were modest in design—plain trousers and a tunic in soft earthen tones, almost like sleepwear or loungewear. The fabric was of the highest quality, smooth like velvet, yet breathable like cotton.

"Rex really did think about comfort," Lucien murmured with a soft, amused smile.

He dressed, pulling the trousers up and tying the waistband, then slipping on the tunic. There was even a fresh pair of underwear, which made him pause for a brief moment. With a slightly embarrassed flush to his cheeks, he folded his used robe and undergarments and placed them back into the pouch.

"Shamelessness is a kind of strength," Lucien muttered, his voice echoing softly in the wood-lined room. "Besides, Rex probably wouldn’t even blink at something like this."

Pouch secured in his side pocket, Lucien opened the bathroom door and stepped out. The corridor greeted him once more, quiet and sunlit. As he turned the corner, he spotted Marie sitting where he left her, sipping her tea in silence. Her presence felt like an anchor, calming and steady.

She noticed him immediately and stood, her gaze briefly dipping as she registered his new clothes. A soft smile curved her lips.

"You look comfortable, Young Master," she said. "I’ve paid for our meal and returned the room keys. The others are waiting outside. Shall we?"

Lucien nodded. "Thank you again, Marie." Then, as they walked toward the entrance, he couldn’t help but think, I never see her take a bath... yet she always smells so... nice.

The thought flickered and embarrassed him slightly, but he said nothing aloud. Some curiosities were better left unspoken.

As they exited the inn, the morning sun bathed the earth in its golden light. The faint scent of horses and old wood drifted on the breeze. The black-flamed steeds stood obediently behind the inn, breathing out mist and stamping the ground with their powerful hooves.

Knight Rex stood near one of them, inspecting the harness while speaking in low tones to the other five A-rank knights. All wore the same focused expression beneath their helmets, but Lucien noticed a subtle change in Rex’s posture the moment they stepped out.

The seasoned knight approached and gave a firm nod. "Morning, Young Master. I hope the bath was refreshing?"

Lucien gave a small smile. "It was, thank you."

"Then let us proceed. We’ve some distance to cover before we reach the estate."

Knight Rex turned and opened the carriage door for Lucien with practiced ease. Lucien gave Marie a quick glance and a parting smile as she walked toward the second carriage. She returned it, eyes soft, before climbing into her own.

As Lucien stepped into the carriage and sank into the plush seat, the wheels beneath him began to turn with a smooth, graceful start. Outside, Knight Rex mounted his horse, leading the procession with quiet authority.

Behind him, five A-rank knights rode in formation, black-flamed steeds pacing in disciplined steps.

The world rolled by as the journey resumed, the path ahead now drawing them steadily back toward the heart of the Velebrandt estate.

Lucien, still nestled in comfort, let his eyes drift out the window, the soft rhythm of the wheels like a lullaby for his thoughts.