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Chapter 15
Märchen for the Villainess
The moment Isabel fell—
“Grrrk!”
The beast’s eyes snapped wide as it swung up its forepaw and slammed her falling body upward.
With that rebound, Isabel’s body floated into the air and was flung safely through the window.
“Ugh!”
Barely escaping death, Isabel rolled across the floor and grabbed her shoulder.
‘The Grand Duke’s claw grazed me.’
A slashed patch of flesh throbbed, crimson blood soaking into her nightgown.
“Rwaaagh!!”
Roaring, the beast tried to hurl itself through the window, but a jelly-like transparent barrier snapped into place, blocking its entrance.
Isabel had never felt a magical barrier from her room before.
Dangling from the tall tower wall, the beast trembled, clawing furiously—but the barrier would not break at once.
Then, sunlight glimmered behind him—
Dawn.
With sunrise, black smoke curled off his body, and he returned to human form.
The barrier vanished. The Grand Duke, now a man, scrambled desperately over the window frame and into the room.
“Shit—why the hell am I up here…?!”
He backed away from the window with a ghastly pale face.
For a man with such a massive build, he looked almost afraid of heights.
‘Now that I think about it, he never goes near windows when he visits the tower… He really must be scared of heights.’
The contrast was so absurd that Isabel let out a pained snicker.
“…Princess?”
Finally noticing her, the Grand Duke stiffened at the sight of Isabel collapsed on the floor.
His pupils trembled like candle flames caught in a sea wind.
“What—what did I do…?!”
He seized a handkerchief from the nightstand and pressed it to her wound.
‘He treats injuries like a soldier would—experienced.’
Isabel extended the blood-covered hand she had been pressing against her shoulder.
Her pale fingers dripped red.
“Wanna drink it?”
It was good for him—but she had no way to explain that.
The Grand Duke grimaced at the bizarre offer.
“Just one sip.”
She pressed her finger against his lips, sealed stubbornly tight like a clam.
Red stained his thick, masculine mouth.
He jerked his head away fiercely, glaring like she was insane for joking at a time like this.
She gave a weak laugh.
‘You only hurt me while trying to save me. None of this is your fault.’
It wasn’t even a serious injury, but her mind was drifting away.
Without saying what she wanted to say, Isabel closed her eyes.
Even though she could see her own blood, he showed no desire for it—only fear and worry for her.
It had been such a long time since she’d seen eyes like that.
* * *
A quiet morning.
Snow stood at the seaside holding a pouch full of dried dates.
‘Master said the coordinates were around here…’
He checked his watch, calculating the sun’s position as he paced the shore.
He had even worn a wide-brimmed hat to shield the morning sunlight.
One careless moment, and freckles would appear.
A ring of blue light suddenly traced itself into the air—
A portal opened.
From the blazing mass of light stepped a man in a foreign changpao, red-tinted hair spilling down one shoulder.
Archmage Chaymon.
“Master!”
“Who’s your master? I’ve never raised an idiot like you. Call me Tower Master, brat.”
Chaymon cursed first thing, twisting his waist as if stretching stiffness away.
“Haha, perfect timing.”
Snow plucked a date from his sack and shoved it into Chaymon’s mouth, walking alongside him—unusually courteous for Snow.
“You being nice is unsettling.”
“Princess Isabel is critical, Master.”
“What?!”
“She was clawed by the Grand Duke’s beast form… she hasn’t woken up for days.”
“I’m not a healer, Snow.”
“The external wounds healed quickly, but none of the physicians know why she won’t wake.”
“…Don’t tell me the curse seeped into her.”
Chaymon murmured.
For the Duke’s curse to transfer, he would need true emotion toward the target.
But in beast form—when reason was gone and only violence remained—that made no sense.
If that were possible, he’d have fixed the curse ages ago.
He almost brushed the thought away—but Snow’s earnest eyes made him hesitate.
“As you said, Master, the curse seems entangled in her.”
“Stop calling me Master.”
“Please help her. Just once, Master.”
Snow bowed his head earnestly.
If anyone could help Isabel recover, it was the Tower Master.
He had even informed the Duke, who—for once—welcomed Chaymon’s visit.
All he needed now was to drag his foul-tempered teacher to the manor alive.
“Haaah… I didn’t come here to work…”
Chaymon rubbed the dark circles under his eyes and checked his pouch.
He fished out several top-grade mana stones—gorgeous as jewels, but worth mountains more.
‘Painful. I hate wasting these.’
He would rather pretend ignorance—but she had to survive.
‘Heaven’s Grandchild’s last chance…’
The prophecy whispered by the High Priest a month ago brushed his mind.
“The Grand Duke will pay well.”
“I don’t want money—just some of his blood.”
Typical mad mage—always asking for strange things.
Psychopath, Snow cursed internally, remembering his thesis-writing days at the Tower—while keeping a polite grin plastered on his face.
“Whatever you want, Master. This way.”
* * *
Isabel blinked open her eyes with effort.
In her blurred vision, she saw a broad back.
The Grand Duke in a white shirt stood with a hand on his hip, scolding—
“Your skill has gotten sloppy, Chaymon.”
“You welcomed me when I arrived. Now that I’m done, you throw me away?”
Chaymon tossed the spent mana stones onto the nightstand—once radiant, now dull rocks.
“Suspicious timing.”
The Duke drew the slender sword at his waist and leveled it at Chaymon’s throat.
“You still can’t take a joke. Go ahead. Stab me. Come on.”
Chaymon leaned his neck into the blade.
Steel bit into flesh—blood streamed down, staining the collar of his changpao red.
He didn’t so much as grunt—as if pain meant nothing to him.
“Ohh, now that I’m bleeding, I crave something sweet.”
Still skewered, he plucked a date from the table and chewed it loudly.
The Duke finally withdrew his sword and wiped the blood away.
“Why isn’t she waking up?”
Even his words of worry sounded like cold commands.
Despite the calm tone, his tense shoulders and back muscles strained visibly beneath his shirt.
“She’ll wake soon. Be patient. Gods, your temper…”
Chaymon slumped onto a sofa and wiped the sweat beading his forehead.
“Two sleepless nights of work, and now you slice my neck… unbelievable.”
He waved lazily; thin bracelets on his wrist jingled softly.
Not frightening in the least—yet—
In bed, Isabel tensed instinctively.
It was not Jung Se-ha’s reaction—
It was Isabel’s.
‘I don’t know him—but something about him terrifies me.’
Her gaze drifted back to the Duke.
Her fear-drenched heart calmed again at the sight of his broad back.
‘If that man protects me…’
No one would dare take her blood or hair, she thought in relief.
Isabel reached out weakly.
Her eyelids drooped.
Her iron-heavy hand fell short of touching him and dropped.
The Duke snapped his head around instantly.
“Princess?”
His hand wrapped over hers—only to tuck it back under the blanket.
‘What a strange man.’
He radiated ice—
Yet his touch was warm.
Soft like wool yarn—
Yet always cut sharply away.
Her tension melted.
Isabel drifted back into sleep.
* * *
Isabel—or rather, Jung Se-ha, who possessed Isabel’s body—stood alone in a pitch-black void.
Facing her was the body’s true owner, Isabel Dejarz, staring coldly.
“Isa…bel?”
“So. Are you enjoying your new life?”
She waited, bored and expressionless.
How could someone look so shameless? Jung Se-ha ground her teeth.
“What are you?”
“How silly. Isn’t it obvious?”
I’m Isabel.
She curtsied elegantly, lifting her skirt.
“Don’t play dumb. Why did I enter your body? Where is this place?!”
“No idea. I’d assume you simply returned to where you belong.”
“This is inside a book!”
“A book?”
“Yes—you’re a side character from The Little Mermaid.”
A nasty-tempered one.
“A side character?”
Isabel gave a haughty laugh and rolled her eyes.
Jung Se-ha marched toward her.
“Because I possessed you, I’ve died painfully again and again. Send me back!”
“Send you? Where.”
“Where I originally—!”
Jung Se-ha closed her mouth mid-sentence.
Right. She died bungy jumping.
In a remote mountain village.
Had rescuers even found her body?
Probably still lodged at the riverbed.
Come to think of it… there was nowhere to return to.
“…Wow. I’m pathetic.”
She rubbed her forehead and gave a self-mocking laugh.
“Still pathetic now?”
“What?”
“Do you still pity yourself?”
“I guess… I should say I’m living well now, married to a good man.”
Though soon to die—
She swallowed the rest and smiled faintly.
“I see. Then that’s enough.”
Isabel inclined her head and turned away.
Listening to the ticking watch on her wrist, she faded into the dark.
“Isabel!”
Jung Se-ha lunged and grabbed her wrist.
“Tell me what this world is.”
The Little Mermaid
Snow White
Now Beauty and the Beast—
She needed to know what twisted fairy-tale stew she’d landed in.
“What are you talking about?”
“Tell me what this world really is! Then I can play my role—or fight to survive!”
She was desperate. Ready to die—but still clutching any thread she could find.
“A role? If there’s a role…”
Isabel pointed elegantly at herself.
“…it would be Isabel.”
“So I die because you’re supposed to die?!”
“People die, idiot.”
“Don’t dodge the question!”
Isabel flicked her hand away.
“Wait!” Jung Se-ha grabbed again.
“I’m serious—do I die because you’re a side character?!”
“Why do you keep saying side character?”
“Then what—are you the protagonist?”
“I seriously have no idea what you’re babbling about.
But how about you?”
Me?
When Jung Se-ha pointed at her own chest, Isabel nodded.
“In your past life—were you a protagonist, or a side character?”
What did you believe yourself to be?
No—did you ever truly know before you died?
Isabel asked, voice calm and emotionless.
