Chapter 17

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Translator: Harry Potta

Chapter Title: Villainess Imprinted with the Male Lead: Chapter 25

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Knock knock.

"Your Grace, was that a cough? Allow me to assist you with your morning wash."

The polite voice of the attendant, who had arrived right on schedule for the morning audience at the palace, drifted in.

"……!"

Richt reflexively yanked the blanket over his body.

"Your Grace, if I may enter…?"

"Thirty minutes!"

"Pardon…?"

"……Come back in thirty minutes."

"Ah, understood."

Realizing his disheveled state, Richt shouted urgently, casting aside any concern for his dignity as head of the house and sending the attendant on his way.

"Haa. Guess I'll have to douse myself in cold water right now."

In a situation as ridiculous as this, what did a little chill matter?

Overcome with self-loathing, Richt staggered awkwardly to the bathroom.

After a tortuous ordeal of getting ready to go out, Richt headed to the imperial palace with Logan.

'His Grace's complexion is getting worse by the day.'

Logan, waiting in silence for the carriage to stop, glanced at Richt across from him and sighed.

His jawline had sharpened even more, and the dark circles under his eyes made the duke, sitting there with his eyes quietly closed, look utterly on edge.

"You look exhausted."

At Logan's gentle probe, a glimpse of red eyes flashed from beneath his closed lids.

"Is it because there's no lead on the badge?"

"……."

Richt didn't answer right away.

It was true that he received reports from the knights he dispatched daily and issued orders, but the truth was, Luciana was the main reason for his exhaustion.

"……Yeah."

But he couldn't say that honestly, so Richt brushed it off vaguely to dodge Logan's question.

'The estate's atmosphere might be tense for a while.'

Had anyone ever gotten under his lord's skin like this before? Sure, there were the occasional wildcats who lunged at him thinking they were tigers, but even they submitted before long.

"To ruffle His Grace this much. Whoever it is, they won't go down easy if caught."

"……!"

He flinched.

He knew it wasn't about Luciana, but Richt still frowned at Logan's words, which carried a hint of brutality.

"Will you turn them into pulp like last time?"

"Logan."

Unlike Logan's intent to lighten the mood with a casual joke, a noticeably subdued voice cut him off.

"……Yes?"

Why the sudden change? Had he said something out of line without realizing?

No matter how he thought about it, nothing stood out as problematic.

Logan swallowed dryly as he eyed the clearly displeased Richt.

"……Let's drop it there."

"Yes……. My apologies."

It was a losing battle to press further, so Richt wrapped it up with another vague response. Fortunately, Logan picked up on the duke's discomfort and fell silent.

"Your Grace, we've arrived at the palace."

Just as the awkwardness was settling in, the carriage pulled up perfectly on time, and Richt headed straight to the audience chamber.

'I should just ignore it.'

Logan's words conjured the image of Luciana being brutally tortured, and he'd faltered.

What did he care if that woman ended up that way?

Richt felt utterly pathetic for reacting to something so trivial.

This morning too, and today of all days—why was his composure slipping like this?

'I have no feelings for that woman. She's just an annoyance, a nuisance.'

He denied Luciana as always, but unlike before, his words rang hollow even to him.

And for good reason.

"!"

That hair color…!

Richt spotted a familiar silhouette not far off and found his feet moving on their own.

"Your Grace?"

Logan's startled call from behind faded from Richt's ears before it even registered.

Richt simply hurried toward the woman—just disappearing around the corner—who might be Luciana.

"Lu…!"

"……?"

He froze.

Sensing footsteps behind, someone turned to check the unwelcome pursuer.

"Hm? Isn't that Duke Cassio?"

"……Marquis Leslie."

Damn. Not Luciana.

"……!"

What did I just say?

Richt snapped back to his senses as his inner voice rang out starkly.

'Hell. Why did my body move on its own….'

It felt like he'd been possessed by a ghost, losing himself in an instant.

He'd given in to his instincts plenty of times before, but never had his body acted without his control like this.

Richt let out an anxious breath, visibly rattled.

Crevian eyed the duke intently before speaking.

"Duke?"

"Ah."

"Do you have business with me?"

"Uh, long time no see."

"……Yes. Not since Prince Crown Prince's birthday banquet last year."

As a high noble, Crevian had exchanged a few words with Richt now and then.

'Were we close enough for the Duke Cassio to inquire after my well-being?'

From what she'd seen of Richt in society, he shunned social interactions outside official duties.

For such a man to approach her first—especially with no shared business or political interests—made the situation all the stranger.

'Something's off with the duke today.'

His breathing was oddly ragged, like someone in distress, and his wandering gaze felt awkward, as if hiding something.

"Come to think of it, I thought I heard you call me 'Lu' just now."

"You misheard."

"……Did I?"

"Yes, Marquis."

No way.

Crevian eyed Richt suspiciously as he immediately denied it.

'Did he mistake me for Lucy?'

Nobles often confused her and Luciana from behind, especially those not close to either. At first, she thought Richt had made the same mistake.

'Well, he's Duke Cassio, after all.'

Even among the noblewomen she knew, many daughters sighed day and night over the duke's cold demeanor.

The chances of him showing interest in Luciana were practically nil.

"……No, I must have misheard. My mistake."

A twinge of doubt lingered, but Crevian decided to think practically.

"If it's not too rude, may I take my leave? I need to head back to the estate."

"Of course, Marquis."

"Then."

Crevian gave a light bow and departed without lingering.

"Why'd you suddenly seek out Marquis Leslie?"

"……Nothing important."

Yet you'd rushed over like it was urgent.

Logan found Richt's inconsistent behavior odd but held his tongue, thanks to his seasoned instincts from years in society.

"In any case, we should head to the audience chamber. Any more delay, and we might be late."

"Let's do that."

But even as he quickened his pace, the tension never left Richt's face.

'Have I really….'

Not content with dreaming of Luciana and reacting to it, now he was dashing off at the sight of anyone resembling her.

A sharp, self-reproaching voice scolded him for not keeping his wits about him, but it had all happened so fast he hadn't even realized, leaving no room to rein himself in.

Once imprinted, you fall in love with your mate regardless of your will.

The horrific truth he'd tried so hard to ignore now weighed heavily on his heart.

The curse of the imprint had already begun, and he couldn't escape it either.

Richt, who had poured all his effort into resisting his instincts so far, now had no choice but to confront his gradual changes.

Having wrapped up his morning schedule, Richt grabbed a simple lunch at a nearby restaurant before diving into his afternoon tasks.

Inspecting the plot of land he'd had his eye on and drawing up the sales contract took him past 3 p.m. before he knew it.

"Is that everything for today?"

"Yes, Your Grace."

"Let's head back to the estate."

"One moment, please. I'll send a runner to ready the carriage."

Logan pulled a few coins from his pocket and approached a boy loitering on the street, hoping for noble errands.