Chapter 3

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Translator: Harry Potta

Chapter Title: Villainess Got Imprinted with the Male Lead 12

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Since the mana had been properly recognized, note that it could not be used by anyone other than the lady.

Other cautionary notes followed from the voice, but only one word lingered in Luciana's ears.

"Wait a minute. Bedroom...? Did I hear that wrong?"

"No. Exactly as I said."

"...!"

A voice as firm as passing a verdict.

Even in the cold winter, it felt like cold sweat was trickling down.

What would happen in the bed afterward was obvious without asking. True to the word "rut," something intimate was bound to occur.

'Still, really? Does that mean we actually have to sleep together...?'

Technically, it wasn't the first time, but there was no way she could happily agree to spend another long night just for that.

'What if he goes full beast on me?'

The concept of rut wasn't unfamiliar. In romance novels featuring a male lead with wolf blood like Richt, it was an inevitable cliché.

But the nuance of the word "rut" felt subtly awkward and uncomfortable.

Luciana was suddenly gripped by fear that Richt might be consumed by instinct and charge at her wildly.

Moreover, unlike yesterday when she was drunk and things happened, this time she would face the duke fully sober.

'Why did it have to be winter of all times?'

Laments filled her mind, but she had no time to slump down and complain at ease.

A night with the male lead, the imprint, and the rut it caused.

Today alone, how many shocks had slammed into the back of her dazed head?

With eyes that refused to accept any of it, Luciana demanded as if arguing.

"What if I don't follow your words?"

"...I wouldn't recommend that."

"Ah!"

Richt silently reached out and toyed with her light hair swaying in the faint breeze.

The sudden warm touch slid down her cheek like silk and gently gripped her chin.

"Like it or not, those in rut must spend the night with their mate."

"...!"

"You can endure a day or two somehow, but if it drags on longer... I might lose my reason and barge into the lady's bedroom."

By then, he'd truly be feral like a beast, so it was better to accept it meekly.

"Ah..."

Truly, no other choice.

As the voice slowly seeped into her mind, Luciana clutched the magic artifact Richt had handed her, her face draining to a ghostly white.

It was a vertigo she'd never felt even upon realizing she'd been born as the original story's villainess.

Richt slipped out of the palace still rowdy from the ball's aftermath and boarded the carriage he'd had his servant prepare in advance.

After taking his seat and tapping the ceiling, the coachman received the signal and expertly drove the carriage off.

"What if I don't follow Your Grace's words?"

As the steady hoofbeats rang out, he briefly closed his eyes, and Luciana's voice—turbulent with rejection—suddenly came to mind.

Her stiffened lips, trembling fingertips, eyes brimming with fear.

Everything about her had twisted miserably, as if the looming event were utterly horrifying.

"Ha."

He knew it was natural for her to find it harsh. He wanted to shred the current situation to pieces too.

Richt himself was crumbling before the reality of having to spend the night with some insignificant woman.

But what could be done? The werewolf blood flowing in his family was turning him destructive.

Forcing Luciana into it semi-compulsorily was all for that reason.

Even the same torment would be somewhat bearable if shared.

"..."

Richt recalled the balcony events with a face devoid of any mirth.

His cooled head had regained composure, but the instinct that had seeped into his mate had not.

A fragment that had hidden itself in his heart at some point was now suffering wretchedly, as if her rejection were a grievous wound.

Though for now it was just a small part he could suppress with reason, time would make it grow relentlessly, eventually devouring everything and dragging him into the mire.

Hadn't he just foolishly wavered moments ago at the sight of that woman, dressed only fittingly for a mere ball?

No matter his heart's state, the curse-like imprint had already taken deep root in his unconscious.

"Your Grace. Have you returned home?"

Godwin guided Richt, back from the palace, to his bedroom.

Perhaps the talk with Lady Leslie hadn't gone well. His master's complexion was grim.

"You've attended me. Withdraw now."

"Yes. Rest well."

Back in his bedroom, Richt undid his cravat and pulled a badge from his inner pocket.

Even at a second glance, it looked dubious as a lady's accessory, but he intended to return it, considering it Luciana's possession.

'But she said clearly it wasn't hers.'

Just before leaving the balcony, he'd offered it to her, only to hear an unexpected reply.

"This is... something I've never seen before?"

"Are you sure? It was by the bedside."

"Well, I hate snakes... Did I pick it up in the palace? I was drunk the whole ball, so my memory's fuzzy..."

Hearing Luciana uncertainly recall that day, Richt caught the scent of the clue he'd endlessly searched for.

'Not hers, and picked up in the palace? Origin unclear, but this might be the key.'

From the moment the incident erupted, his suspicions that someone had targeted him with some plot.

Moreover, that woman had been unluckily caught up in it too, so she might have picked up a clue the culprit dropped.

Not solid evidence yet, so not a confirmed hypothesis, but the sharp instincts honed from living as a ruler warned him not to overlook it.

'Doesn't look like another family's crest either.'

No noble house in his memory used a sinister snake as a symbol.

'Then it must belong to some shady group.'

As he gradually narrowed the noose, Richt sneered coldly.

He didn't know who had dared target him and pulled this stunt, but since they'd drawn the first blade, he couldn't just sit idly by.

'At dawn, I must order Logan to investigate.'

Gazing at the slyly entwined white snake, Richt's eyes gleamed like a predator on the verge of the hunt.

"Lorraine, when are you heading to the territory?"

"Earliest this week, latest within next week."

The family breakfast, with everyone gathered, was peacefully ordinary as always.

"Good. It's not a bad idea to inspect the territory in person this time. I'll send word to the steward in advance."

"Yes, Mother."

Currently, Lorraine was learning all sorts of practical duties to lead the family someday, and at Crevian's suggestion, he was planning a long stay in the south to check the situation and look after the territory's people.

"You'll do well."

Crevian encouraged her level-headed son and turned to Luciana seated across from her.

"Lucy, it's already been two months since your graduation, hasn't it? Do you have any concrete plans going forward?"

"Ah... well..."

Has time passed that quickly already?

Luciana paused picking peas from her plate and awkwardly scratched her cheek.

"I originally wanted to open a potion shop..."

"Business, huh. Not a bad idea."

One of the academy's graduation requirements was passing the manufacturer certification exam, so Luciana could open a shop anytime without issue.

'Now's the moment.'

Sensing her chance, Luciana brought up the story she'd rehearsed last night.

"But I feel my skills are still lacking... For the time being, I want to focus on personal research and studies."

"Tell me more details."

"To properly succeed in business, you need competitiveness, like developing new products...?"

"Hmm."

Her words sounded plausible enough, but the real reason for delaying business was largely the imprint. To immerse herself carefree in research, she needed the right environment to support it.