I Am Troubled That My Fiance Is a Villain

After a little while.

After Lizzie and Bern left, Donald was still tied to a chair and left alone.

Of course, it has Ionias on it as a lookout, an impossible situation such as escape even if it is not tightly tied.

Moreover, it is as hot as the face and left index finger are burning, intermittently as a pushing wave when the intense pain pulls off. When I lost my mind, I was going to cry like hell.

I wonder what will happen to me now. Will I really live as a civilian? Will I not see Lyla again?

How could I have done such a ridiculous thing?

He came suddenly to Donald's chest, like the light that such thoughts put between the clouds.

He asks himself, bewildered.

How did this happen? I just liked Lyla purely. But she admires His Highness, and His Highness also adores her. So I thought I'd watch Lyla be happy. How could that be?

That's how I remember it.

"If you truly love Lyla, it's going to work. Get rid of her worries. Lizia Lietberf. '

That's what I said. Aloise's bruised, laughing look. Lyla getting scared and stuck in something. Lila will be fine without Lizia Lietberf. It all works out. What made you think that? I can't remember it as if it stuck on my head. The small room taken to Aloise was filled with an irresistible and sweet smell. Even then, like this, my head was blurred, so.

"Ha-ha-ha! Good for you, Mr. Leetbelf is kind! If I hadn't, Bernhardt would have killed me by now, you ~. Hey, I've been worried sick about you too, thinking I might have to deal with your body, huh?

Donald was drawn back to reality once and for all by that voice as if he had come down and sprung up because he was having a hard time repeating unanswered questions.

It's like hiding your shape. A dull robe, a dark purple blush. A cheerful man in the head's dislike. I'm Lucas, the famous art teacher at this school for freaks.

"Mr. Muller, keep an eye out. I'll take this. You need to rest now."

"Yes."

Lucas doesn't know what's fun with the smile, but he unraveled the rope that lowers Ionias and admonishes Donald. Apparently, Lucas is just a art teacher. Ionias can't resist you.

Freed from the fixed position, the pain in my joints hits me more tired.

In the meantime, it doesn't have to fit the pain anymore.

I'll let Donald, who temporarily interrupts himself in questioning and appeases his future anxiety for the first time, stand up with Lucas on his shoulder.

My knee, which had remained bent the whole time, was suddenly stretched out and giddy.

I pulled Donald's shoulder in a fluttering wind, like accidentally, and you're an idiot too. How dare Lucas laugh lightly.

And at the next moment, that raunchy voice changed to something so inorganic that it gave me goosebumps, I said this.

"I think Bernhardt is sweeter than I am."

Don't shock the right chest.

"Heh?

Donald didn't know what had happened to him.

There was something elongated and unfamiliar growing out of his own chest looking down.

A delicate silvercraft pattern floats in a blurry light. Maybe it's a knife. The knife is stabbed.

Yet strangely, there was no pain or bleeding at all, and its spine became cold and cold as if it had been replaced by an ice-cold. His senses slowly dulled from his toes, and at last he could not stand and he knelt on the floor.

"It's like you - if I keep you alive with extra mercy, I don't know when you'll be used to mud this one again for good. To dispose of it, you've never rubbed it. Oh, yeah, yeah! I've actually already come up with a way to dispose of your body. It's the only big job you can do."

Donald didn't understand what Lucas had to say as one thing.

Only that I was going to die was right in front of him as an unrealistic fact.

Senses, thoughts, reality, everything goes far.

Why would Lucas kill himself? This is how one life, Donald McGinn, was quietly wiped out of the world without even knowing its sincerity.