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Chapter 4
“I Am the Villainess, but I’ve Imprinted with the Male Lead ”
“…Pardon?”
Richt also had no intention of dragging this troublesome situation out with Luciana any longer.
However, despite his desire, he could not simply let her go.
Because the two of them had already…
“Because of what happened last night, you and I have been imprinted.”
Their souls had been bound as one.
“…What did you say?”
A sense of unease swept through her entire body.
Luciana, who had been holding onto her composure until now, began to crack at that moment.
“An imprint…?”
Her delicate brows furrowed.
She wasn’t trying to ridicule Richt, but the absurdity of his words made her react instinctively.
Imprint.
Not a word commonly used in daily life—but one that frequently appeared in romance novels she had read before dying.
“…You’re saying that happened to me?”
Knowing the meaning of the term only made her feel like she was sinking deeper into something horrifying.
Imprints were usually something reserved for non-human beings—or protagonists with mixed blood who chose a destined partner.
“What exactly is going on? Richt is supposed to be a normal human…”
No matter how she searched her memory of the novel, there was no mention of the male lead having any special origin.
“…You’re joking, right?”
“Do I look like I am?”
At his sharp reply, she had no choice but to shut her mouth.
‘I can’t even tell him this is a novel world… I’m in serious trouble too.’
No matter how she thought about it, she couldn’t accept Richt’s claim about an imprint.
‘Can I even fix this situation myself?’
If what he said was true, then this was a serious matter for both of them.
Luciana squeezed out every last bit of her rationality, but reality felt like a collapsing ruin she couldn’t keep up with.
An imprint… Not only had she made a disastrous mistake with the male lead she had barely even acknowledged before—but now this?
She couldn’t remain calm.
But Richt had no intention of waiting for her to process it.
“By now, the mark should have already manifested.”
He wasn’t insensitive to her confusion. He himself could hardly accept it. But reality was reality—they could not remain stuck here forever.
Deciding that showing her was better than explaining, Richt silently gestured toward her.
Luciana followed his gaze and pulled her hand from beneath the blanket.
And there—on the inside of her left wrist—was a small unfamiliar mark.
It was the same color as Richt’s crimson eyes.
“…!”
When did that appear?
Panicked, she rubbed at it desperately, but it was useless. The mark had already sunk deep into her skin, as if it had become part of her body.
“This is proof that we are imprinted.”
Richt’s cold voice cut through the air, sounding almost resigned.
Only then did Luciana stop her futile attempts.
“Do you believe me now?”
Her trembling eyes moved to his hand.
There, on his wrist as well, was the exact same mark.
“…This can’t be real.”
She had rubbed her wrist so hard it had turned red, but the mark remained unchanged.
As if to declare there was no escaping it.
The binding of souls.
Luciana recalled what Richt had said earlier.
That heavy, irreversible phrase—now applied to her situation because of a single drunken night.
“…Intent doesn’t matter. Once physical intimacy occurs, the imprint is formed.”
“!”
As much as she didn’t want to believe it, Richt’s words were reality.
The matching marks on their wrists were proof.
‘What is this guy…?’
Luciana swallowed dryly.
Ordinary humans weren’t supposed to have anything like this imprinting system.
And yet Richt was clearly affecting her existence.
Richt Cassio. The male lead of a romance novel—so what was he really?
Her doubtful gaze naturally turned toward him.
“…Damn it.”
Sensing her suspicion, Richt cursed inwardly.
Her gaze—filled with doubt and faint disappointment—irritated him in a way he didn’t understand.
It was a new feeling, yet strangely familiar, as if he had experienced it many times before. Richt forced himself to ignore it.
‘She’ll inevitably be curious after hearing the word “imprint.”’
The woman before him was now bound to him.
Even if he disliked it, he would have to reveal part of his family’s secret.
But when he tried to speak, the words didn’t come easily.
It wasn’t that he trusted her—it was that they had only just met.
A proper magical oath would normally be required to ensure secrecy… but that would take time. Until then, he would have to keep her here.
“Your Grace, forgive me for asking, but are you perhaps a normal human—”
“Enough.”
“!”
Richt cut her off coldly and looked at her.
‘Words alone won’t be enough to silence her.’
…Then there’s no choice.
Even if he disliked it, this was the only way.
His dark eyes narrowed as he studied her.
Shallow breaths. Nervous gaze. A fragile appearance—but she seemed to value her life.
A proper warning should be enough to keep her quiet.
Without hesitation, Richt stepped closer and reached out.
“Ah—!”
His large hand slid beneath her loosely worn shirt and moved toward her neck.
“You are a daughter of House Leslie, correct?”
“Yes… that is correct.”
His touch carried no real strength, almost as if he could crush her like foam—but the slow press of his thumb against her skin made her heart drop.
From another angle, it might have looked almost intimate—but Luciana couldn’t move at all.
Richt, ignoring her frozen state, spoke in a chilling voice:
“If you let even a single word of this reach the wrong ears, neither you nor your house will survive.”
“…!”
The unmistakable threat pressed down on her shoulders.
‘He’s serious.’
She had stepped into something dangerous by becoming involved with the concept of “imprint.”
Instinct told her that disobeying him would bring silent, unseen consequences.
He was the male lead—someone with immense influence in the empire. If he decided to act, there would be nothing he couldn’t do.
“I-I swear I won’t.”
Luciana shut her eyes tightly as she promised.
“It would be wise to keep that promise if you value your life.”
Richt withdrew his hand as if satisfied.
‘Haa…’
Only then did Luciana feel the tension leave her body as she exhaled.
What on earth was so serious that he had to go this far?
Before she could think further, Richt spoke again.
“I am not like ordinary humans.”
“…?”
He ran a hand through his dark hair as if trying to suppress something.
“The ducal bloodline… carries the blood of wolves.”
“…What?”
“And the imprint is a result of that.”
