Chapter 36

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Translator: Harry Potta

Chapter Title: Villainess Imprinted with the Male Lead: Chapter 42

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‘It’s stinging more and more. A cat’s claws are sharper than I thought.’

She carefully examined the wound and let out a small sigh.

‘Mary’s going to throw a fit if she sees this.’

I could already picture her flying into a rage, demanding to know who had done this to her young lady’s hand.

Luciana thought of Mary’s gentle eyes drooping with distress as she headed toward the area where the servants were waiting.

‘Wearing just one glove would look strange.’

That was when it happened, as she walked on while removing the other glove.

“Ah!”

Richt…?

Feeling a persistent gaze from somewhere, she looked up—and there was none other than the duke, staring at her with a rigidly tense face.

She had no idea what had happened with his partner, but Richt was alone as well.

‘That’s not the point. Whether he’s by himself or not, it’s none of my business.’

But Richt seemed to think differently from Luciana, who wanted to brush him off. He closed the distance between them in an instant and asked without hesitation.

“Are you hurt?”

“……Pardon?”

Her shoulders flinched at his low, steady voice.

‘Is he pretending to know me again?’

She had decided to be cautious until the imprint was completely severed.

It was a clear promise between them.

Yet here he was, striking up a conversation out of nowhere in a public place?

Flustered by Richt’s sudden action, Luciana didn’t even register his question about her injury.

But whether she did or not, Richt had already caught sight of her reddened hand. He grabbed her wrist and grumbled irritably.

“Damn it. Your beautiful hand is all scraped up.”

“?!”

W-what did he just call my hand?

“What do you think you’re doing…!”

Smack!

Was it because of that utterly bizarre, otherworldly remark?

Luciana forgot he was a duke and slapped the back of his hand with a loud crack.

“Ow! I mean, that is…”

“Who did this to you?”

“Pardon?”

Regardless of Luciana’s flustered excuses, Richt was entirely focused on finding the culprit behind her wound.

‘What… is going on?’

Only then did she realize he was showing something akin to worry.

The idea that he was fretting over her.

Luciana’s expression turned subtly complicated, as if she’d bitten into a grain of sand.

“Doesn’t look like you tripped and rolled. The shape suggests some beast did it.”

Richt’s obsessive gaze remained fixed on the back of her hand.

‘He’s making a huge fuss over a little scratch…?’

His behavior was ridiculous, like he was ready to wipe out an entire species of animals on the spot.

What did he care if she got hurt?

Luciana wanted to believe there was something wrong with her eyes, but Richt kept acting like a man whose heart ached at the sight of his wounded lover.

Perhaps because of that, an embarrassing feeling welled up again, turning the ears of the usually unflappable Luciana bright red with bewilderment.

“What do you think you’re doing right now?”

Just being near him made her feel strangely off-balance.

Luciana hurriedly stepped back and scolded him in a voice just barely audible.

Not content with acting like they knew each other, now he’d grabbed her hand—what was he thinking?

Thankfully, no one seemed to have witnessed it, but the very real possibility made her heart sink.

“Ah.”

Only after seeing the resentful glare in Luciana’s eyes did he snap out of it, it seemed. Richt gaped foolishly, as if just realizing what he’d done.

“This was… a mistake.”

His mumbling lips and wandering gaze suggested it wasn’t a lie. His complicated eyes remained fixed on her injured hand.

“……I’ll be going now.”

He must have finally become aware of the onlookers around them.

Richt whispered to himself as if to the glaring Luciana, then vanished as quickly as if he’d never been there.

‘Did he eat a poisonous mushroom in the woods or something?’

Though half-formed words tangled in her mouth, Luciana resumed walking.

“Make sure you put some ointment on it, at least.”

That faint voice he’d left behind before departing.

‘Hah. What nonsense.’

What on earth had prompted that? Did he even realize what he’d just done?

Luciana hurriedly shook off the voice that lingered like an afterimage, but she didn’t know.

That Richt’s bizarre behavior—which she thought was over—was only just beginning.

After spending time in the lounge listening to Mary’s affectionate nagging, Luciana returned to the Spring Festival.

‘Fortunately, he’s not around this time.’

Confirming there were no black-haired figures nearby, she slipped away from the crowds toward a quieter spot.

By the way, how long did Louis plan to hide? It seemed he was cowardly slacking off alone.

She’d expected as much from someone who hated crowds as much as she did, but he hadn’t shown his face since vanishing after the first dance.

The ladies she knew were all spending intimate time with their partners, and joining the giggling clusters over there—looking like they were on blind dates with pink auras swirling around—didn’t appeal to her either.

‘……Maybe I should just go back to the lounge with Mary.’

If she did, she’d get teased for not receiving any dance invitations at the ball, but she had no interest in meeting a handsome partner or being chosen as the goddess of spring—what else was there for her to do here?

“Lady Leslie?”

“Eek!”

As she pondered, someone grabbed her arm and called out familiarly.

Startled by the sudden contact, Luciana turned to see a familiar face in her view.

“Oh dear, did I startle you?”

“……Young Lord Dmitri?”

“Oh, you remember me.”

The man sidled up to her with a sleazy drawl.

When Luciana absentmindedly said his name, Dmitri flashed his white teeth in satisfaction.

“Since you haven’t shown your face after the year-end ball, I thought you’d forgotten all about me.”

Smack.

Dmitri took her hand without permission and planted a loud kiss on it, lingering with a sticky smile.

‘Ugh.’

She didn’t openly recoil, but discreetly rubbed the back of her hand against her dress hem and swallowed a sigh.

Matthias Dmitri. Recalling that name after so long made her head throb.

She had no particular connection with him. He’d simply been her partner at the year-end ball—the same night she’d spent with Richt.

‘He was handsome enough, and his family wasn’t bad, so I agreed readily……’

Who could have known he hid a slimy interior beneath that affable exterior?

Unlike his neat appearance, his attitude toward women was crude, and he clung like a leech.

‘Sticking to someone who’s said no is just rude.’

No matter that he had a huge interest in her—she’d made her refusals clear repeatedly, yet he wouldn’t back off.

“You came with Young Lord Dalton.”

“……Yes, that’s right.”

“Isn’t he your cousin?”

Dmitri’s eyes narrowed slyly as he said it.

The implication seemed to be: ‘You kept rejecting my partner requests, so I thought you had a fiancé or something—but apparently not?’

“Hmm.”

No other man in the picture, then?

Seeing his chance, Dmitri casually scanned the surroundings with a leisurely gaze.

Fortunately, her partner—the only obstacle between them, the second son of the Dalton family—was nowhere in sight.

‘Finally, things are going my way.’

No matter how much she played hard to get, she was still a woman.

A few sweet, devoted words, and even with all her thorns, she’d bloom shyly for him alone.

With no more hurdles, Dmitri reached out to Luciana with even more confident body language.

“I thought you were wearing the gift I gave you.”

“……!”

Swish.

Before she could dodge, his hand slipped into her bonnet and brazenly touched the small ear hidden inside.

“Eek! What do you think you’re doing all of a sudden?”

“Rosefina’s Spring. Didn’t you like the gift?”

Luciana demanded an explanation for his presumptuous touch, but Dmitri was too busy confirming the absence of the sparkling pink diamond on her small ear.

“I went out of my way to prepare it especially for you.”