Chapter 10

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Translator: Harry Potta

Chapter Title: The Villainess Imprinted with the Male Lead: Chapter 19

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"Ah... This is bad. There's not a single inch of space on the desk."

Haah. When am I ever going to clean this mess up?

She wanted nothing more than to chuck it all and call it a day, but these were all tasks she had to do to survive. She couldn't just abandon them.

Letting out a sigh, Luciana placed her glass of water in a suitable spot and tidied the desk just enough to carve out a minimal workspace. Most of the items still had some use left, so this was the best she could manage for now.

"...January's already almost half over."

Settling into her chair, she bit her lower lip anxiously as she eyed the swiftly passing time.

Today was the day she was supposed to write her regular letter to Richt.

It had been over two weeks since she'd gotten caught up in that whole imprinting fiasco, but all she'd sent the duke were requests for new materials.

"This isn't right. I need to do something soon..."

It wasn't as if she'd been slacking off. Luciana had truly poured her all into her research.

But handling most things alone, with a staggering number of combinations to test, progress was inevitably slow.

"And no word from the male lead yet."

While Luciana buried herself in research, the capital had quietly blanketed itself in thick white snow, and the winds roaming the streets had turned biting cold.

The rut.

As Richt had warned, it would inevitably strike before winter's end.

Perhaps because of that, Luciana found herself gripped by growing unease with every quiet day that passed.

"...And now even nightmares on top of it."

She remembered the details so vividly that it couldn't have been just once or twice.

Whenever she dreamed of the rut hitting, Luciana lay frozen in bed like a frog about to be dissected.

Not bound by ropes or anything, yet no matter how she thrashed, she couldn't break free from that rigid position, as if pinned by sleep paralysis.

Approaching her was Richt, who looked utterly unhinged at a glance.

He let out beastly growls as he blocked her path, his eyes flashing like a starving wolf's, drool trickling down—enough to make even his striking features terrifying.

'Ugh... I don't want to think about it anymore.'

Luciana squeezed her eyes shut and shook her head.

What if the rut really came and he lost his reason just like in the dream? What if he charged at her like a wild animal?

There was no way to know until it happened, making the impending event all the more frightening.

Swoosh.

Luciana picked up the magic artifact she'd left on one corner of the desk.

It was supposed to glow when the rut hit, but the bracelet remained as still as ever, just like yesterday.

"He said the rut always comes at night."

Richt had warned her to keep the artifact close once the sun began to set.

So Luciana had no choice but to hole up in her lab and watch for the moment it lit up.

How long did she have to live in this anxiety? Today, too, it seemed the artifact would stay dormant.

"...Guess I should finish that letter."

As Luciana exhaled a troubled breath, set the bracelet down, and reached for her pen again—

Fwaaah—!

"...!"

The dead-silent mana stone suddenly flared to life, sparkling brightly.

She could feel the artifact vibrating, having received Richt's signal.

Her eyes were glued to the magic artifact, which blazed with light so dazzling it hurt to look at. It was as if it were urging the stunned, dazed Luciana to pour her mana into it quickly and head to the duke's side.

Richt's words echoed endlessly in her mind: When the bracelet glows, come to my bedroom.

'...I have to go.'

She knew it in her head.

"I can hold out for a day or two, but if it drags on longer... I might lose control and barge into Lady Leslie's bedroom."

Richt had said as much himself. Forcing it down wouldn't make the rut vanish.

Ignoring it just because she didn't want to would only backfire. It would come back as an even bigger disaster.

'And I haven't even made the suppressant potion yet.'

By the time she'd heard about the rut, winter was already upon them. Time had been too tight to complete it, ending in failure.

'There was something in the materials Richt sent, but...'

Luciana's face darkened as she recalled the contents.

Imperial Year XXXX, Month X, Day X

This year, the duke's rut came earlier than last. (Further research needed on timing.) The problem is that unprecedented blizzards delayed Madam's return from the capital; it'll take at least five days to reach the territory.

The duke's condition worsens by the hour; everyone's scrambling day and night for a solution. We burned sleep incense in his bedroom to suppress symptoms briefly, but he'd seize with violent urges upon waking.

After 24 hours, high fever set in. By 72, he smashed surroundings and tried bolting out—we had to knock him unconscious. His heartbeat's unstable; his life might be at risk... (abridged)

Far from helping, it only amplified her anxiety. The previous duke's symptoms were as severe as Richt described—if not worse.

'Dragging it out could even threaten his life.'

If her choice caused him any harm, that would be unforgivable too.

Moreover, the note on the back claimed prolonged sexual urges extended the rut's duration.

The previous duke, who usually ended in a day, had taken a full week confined to his bedroom before recovering.

"Eek!"

Just then, Luciana let out a short groan. While lost in torment, a sudden sharp pain stabbed her wrist.

"The pattern..."

It felt like being pricked repeatedly by a sharp needle, an unpleasant sensation overwhelming her.

'Is this because of the rut?'

The research log hadn't mentioned it, but Luciana was nearly certain. Why else would a perfectly fine imprint pattern hurt?

'Am I affected too? If I stay like this, the pain will only get worse.'

It was bearable for now, but the burning seemed to intensify with every delayed moment.

Bzzz, buuuz.

The signal kept coming, and her mouth felt parched like scorched plants.

There was no other path for her. She just needed to infuse a tiny bit of mana.

Yet it was as if invisible bonds held her body; she couldn't even twitch a finger.

Luciana stared at the magic artifact with eyes flickering like a dying candle flame.

"Ugh, urgh..."

The bedroom shrouded in darkness.

"Hahk...!"

Richt, who had unusually turned in early, jolted awake from a sudden unfamiliar sensation enveloping his entire body.

He clutched at his chest as if suffering excruciating chest pains, gasping for breath.

His eyes darted around anxiously, like someone robbed of something precious right in front of him. Even as he did, his frantic hands roamed the cold, empty sheets, desperately seeking someone's warmth.

"...Luciana."

Damn it.

The moment he rasped her name in his deep, gravelly voice, Richt realized his worst fears had come true. He gripped the artifact on his nightstand.

It would be a lie to say there was no hesitation before pouring mana into the inert magic artifact. But his instinct's burning desire to hold his mate crushed everything else, hesitation included.

Richt panted hot breaths as he waited for Luciana to receive the signal and come to his bedroom.

Images flooded his mind: fragrant long hair, soft and delicate white skin.

This was his first rut too. Richt ground his molars, watching helplessly as his control slipped away like sand through his fingers.

'Almost two weeks since the ball.'

All he'd shared with his mate in that time were emotionless scraps of paper. He'd suppressed his instincts for quite a while. No wonder he couldn't stand not seeing that woman.

It wasn't just about spending the night. A deeper urge built relentlessly—to touch her without gaps, to share something profound.