I Am the Nanny of the Villain - Chapter 62:

In every story, there exists the hero and the villain, the protagonist and the antagonist.And like every story, the hero always wins, and always gets the girl.But what happens now that I died and became a villain in the last book I read? Not even a proper villain, but one that the protagonist kills in the early chapters.I don't want to die again, and I don't want that simp of a protagonist to walk all over me. Maybe I should just become a better villain.I've always admired the smart badass villains that took on the protagonist. Maybe I can be one of them, maybe I can win—the first villain to win against the hero.I'll rewrite this story into one where I become the greatest villain. Call me sick or evil, but it's my time to shine.

Have you heard stories of love, love that would never waver for years, decades, centuries or even millenniums to come?But can you really call it love?To keep loving someone forever and ever can't be anything less than crazy, can it?This is one such story.A story of a crazy love.And it's also a story of ...Someone somewhere who wished to be saved.Someone somewhere who wished to be free.Someone somewhere who wished to be able to someday make a wish.It's a story that was supposed to be a fairytale but it turned too ugly, too twisted, and far too wretched to be called one.

I was transmigrated into a webtoon based on an alternate history of a shitty empire.‘I will overthrow this country with my own hands.’And the answer I arrived at upon experiencing it was ‘Coup D’état’.

The night before we obtained our marriage certificate, I asked him, “When did you start to develop feelings for me?”

He answered, “I don’t remember.”

“But, why me?”

“Why not you?”

“I’m very petty, and I get jealous very easily.”

“So am I.”

“I’m afraid I’m not worthy of you.”

“So am I.”

“I haven’t really dated, so I don’t know what love is.”

“I don’t know either.”

He held my hand gently, “But I know this. When I think about spending the rest of my life with you, I feel that my future is filled with hope.”

At 16, we used the same class desk, with less than 10cm between our arms. My peripheral vision was full of him.

At 26, I woke up in the morning, and saw the sunlight softly shining on his face. I thought, this is how I want to grow old – gradually, together, with him.

I guess this must be love.