Chapter 5

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Translator: Harry Potta

Chapter Title: The Villainess Got Imprinted with the Male Lead 14

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“Ahem, excuse me?”

Creak. The sound of old hinges turning revealed the dim interior.

“Is anyone there...?”

Mary stepped inside, her shoulders hunched up tight.

What was this? Lady Luciana had said she just needed to hand over the handkerchief.

But how am I supposed to give it or not without seeing what's here!

Did Conner take a wrong turn? No way that could happen...

Why was no one here? And it wasn't even night yet—why was it so dark!

Maybe she should just head back out and consult with Conner. Right as that thought crossed her mind...

“State your affiliation.”

“Eek!”

What?! There was definitely no one here!

Mary jumped in fright at the man who had appeared out of nowhere.

N-No way, is this a blade...?!

She was too scared to turn her head, but the cold edge pressing against her nape felt unmistakably like steel.

“Are you just a simple intruder? I asked why you're here. Answer.”

“Gulp! I-I'm...! I'm just a m-maid sent on an errand by Lady Luciana...!”

Wait, what kind of customer service was this?

Any hint of suspicious behavior, and she'd probably scream her way to a gruesome end.

Mary's heart raced, terrified the man might swing his sword without warning.

“H-Here!”

She hurriedly thrust out the handkerchief Luciana had given her.

“...”

The man—proprietor or whatever he was—silently took it and examined it carefully.

A single white handkerchief embroidered with pink lysianthus flowers.

Just as His Excellency said.

The man in the black hood was Rick, the knight assigned by Richt to make the delivery.

He hadn't been told what was inside, only that it was important.

That was why he'd greeted Mary so roughly. No leaks to the outside could be allowed.

“You're the agreed-upon agent. Forgive my earlier rudeness.”

“?!”

What? That was the apology?

Ignoring Mary's bewilderment, he pulled a box from the safe where it had been hidden and handed it to her.

“Ugh!”

Heavier than it looked...!

What on earth had her lady ordered?

Mary stared at the brown wooden box cradled in both hands. It looked like any ordinary box you'd see anywhere, but the lock suggested otherwise.

“Your business is done. Please leave.”

“W-Wait...!”

The man placed the handkerchief atop the box and began shoving her out.

His gestures seemed to guide her way back, but it felt more like semi-forced ejection.

What...?

Am I being kicked out like an unwelcome intruder?

She'd run errands to all sorts of places while serving Lady Luciana personally, but she'd never been treated this absurdly in her life.

Sob. Lady Lucianaaa...

Did I do something to upset her? Nah, probably not.

Even so, Mary clutched the delivered box close and trudged back to the carriage.

Click.

“You called for me, Your Excellency?”

“Ah, Logan.”

Richt, who had been gazing out the window, turned at the sound of footsteps.

The man with soft brown hair and amber eyes gave off a sociable, easygoing vibe, unlike Richt's stern demeanor.

“What did you find on the thing I told you to investigate?”

Returning to his seat, Richt cut straight to the chase.

The badge Luciana had left behind that day—the root of all this, belonging to no one.

A trace that left him with an unsettling feeling.

It was also the item he was secretly digging into now.

“As ordered, I visited the information guild to trace its origins, but nothing substantial turned up.”

“Not even anything noteworthy?”

“Unfortunately.”

“...Tch. Sounds like it's deeply buried in the shadows.”

The Tristan Guild that Logan had visited was hard to access and expensive, but renowned for its accurate intel.

For them to come up empty meant the group behind the badge operated in small, shady circles—or possibly a noble's private, unofficial outfit.

The second hypothesis needs more digging to confirm.

If true, it'd be a real headache...

I'll have to pull a few knights for back-alley investigations.

It fell within expected snags, but it looked like things would drag on more than anticipated.

Anoysance like encirclement nets can be tightened by any means necessary.

As their sole lead, impatience was inevitable, but Richt resolved to bide his time for the hunt.

“...Did the item get delivered safely?”

“Ah! I actually ran into Rick on the way here. He said it went off without a hitch.”

“Good, then.”

Was it the shift in topic?

A bright, chirpy voice. Just-right dimples and clear, yellow eyes.

Richt's mind flooded with Luciana's face—the one he'd been trying so hard to ignore.

“Are you all right, Your Excellency? You look pale.”

“!”

Damn. Did I let it show?

“...Just tired. Don't worry about it.”

“...Is that so?”

Doesn't seem like it.

Logan eyed Richt, who was struggling to compose himself.

The man who doesn't flinch at most things... Whoever this group is, they've really gotten under his skin.

The duke's secrets were known only to the butler lineage that had served the Cassios since the founding—Godwin now held that role—so Logan figured some upstart fool had bared its fangs at Richt.

Wonder how those idiots will end up. They'll regret it to their bones, that's for sure.

Logan inwardly offered a wry prayer for the fools who'd picked the wrong target.

“Then, I'll take my leave.”

“Got it.”

With that, he placed the stack of documents he'd brought on the desk and left the study.

“Hoo...”

Alone at last, Richt shut his eyes tightly, shaking off the presence haunting his thoughts.

“Clear out everything I gestured at earlier. Right in front of me.”

“P-Pardon...? E-Everything...?”

For the past two days, the duke had refused to keep anything near him that reminded him of Luciana, regardless of type.

That included colors resembling her. Pink and yellow paintings lining the ducal corridors had been hauled to storage, value be damned.

Deep in his bones, he yearned for his mate—yet here he was, thrashing about like a fool.

Anyone who saw would laugh.

“...”

Richt knew it too. This ridiculous flailing might seem fine for now, but it was ultimately pointless.

Still, it was his best effort. Without it, he couldn't predict when his instincts—poised to weaken him—would swallow him whole.

Ending up devoured by instinct, submitting to his mate like a dog?

He'd never wanted that, and even imagining it disgusted him.

“...Ironically, in this mess, she's the only one I can trust.”

Richt banished her image and wearily closed his eyes.

Trapped in a dead end, her research was his only escape.

An old study, sure—but what were the odds of perfecting an impossible feat in so short a time?

Yet for his own sake, he had to pour everything into that slim hope. That's why he'd swept up every resource that could aid her research and sent it her way.

His full rut hadn't hit yet, but who knew how things would change after it passed.

Could he even hold onto his sanity then?

“...It has to succeed.”

Before he bowed to the imprint.

To avoid repeating the ancient mistake etched deep in his heart.