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Chapter 8
I’m the Villainess, but I Was Imprinted with the Male Lead
Eyes filled with misfortune, as if she would burst into tears at the slightest touch.
The moment he realized that the woman was clearly rejecting him, a merciless sensation—like a sharp needle piercing his heart—rippled through his entire body.
Even though he himself had no feelings for Luciana whatsoever.
“Ha!”
As soon as Rihit became aware of the uncomfortable change quietly taking hold within him, he sneered while pushing away the traces of Luciana that lingered everywhere.
An instinct so vile that it cried out for the scent of its mate, regardless of his own will.
All of it was the aftermath of the imprint formed in a single night.
Has her existence already been etched this deeply into my marrow?
If so, did that mean he was now destined to helplessly fall into foolish love and live the rest of his life in agony?
Just like this—so empty, so helpless?
He had sworn again and again that he would never live such a life.
But as the firm walls he had built over a long time began to collapse, his fingertips trembled uncontrollably.
As the emotions rising in his throat intensified, he covered his reddened eyes with his hand and exhaled roughly.
…If I were to quietly kill her, without anyone knowing.
In his desperation to escape this damned situation, his thoughts veered toward an extreme conclusion.
He recalled the delicate sensation that had clung to his hand.
If he twisted it like breaking a branch, it would quickly lose its life and wither away.
But just imagining her pale, fading form made it impossible to breathe, as if he were witnessing a horrific tragedy.
In truth, he knew it as well. Even if he truly decided to kill her, the moment he stood before her, bound by the name of “mate,” he would be unable to do anything.
“……”
A terrifyingly destructive emotion crashed over him like a wave.
Knock, knock.
What stopped him—just before he erupted like a volcano—was an unexpected knock.
“Your Grace. It is Godwin.”
“…Come in.”
The butler, who had escorted Luciana back properly so as not to tarnish the prestige of the ducal house, approached his master with a tense expression and bowed.
“I have escorted the guest safely back to the estate.”
While giving his brief report, Godwin’s deep blue eyes occasionally drifted toward Rihit’s left wrist, hidden beneath his shirt.
Though he could not see it, there was surely a mark inside—proof that his master had taken a mate.
As someone who had served the ducal household for generations, Godwin was also the only servant who knew the secrets of the Cassio family.
The Duke, who had avoided women all his life… imprinting.
Godwin, who had watched Rihit grow up, swallowed a breath in disbelief and asked:
“Did you truly imprint with Lady Leslie?”
“…Yes.”
At the direct question, Rihit briefly furrowed his brow, but in the end, he gave a reluctant affirmation.
So it is true…
Godwin grew serious.
Judging from his master’s condition—more filled with torment than happiness at meeting his mate—the imprint that occurred last night did not seem to be his will.
Did the young lady act on her own? But why did His Grace not punish her and instead send her back to the marquisate? Wait… wasn’t the lady found in His Grace’s bedroom today?
As Godwin pieced together the circumstances one by one, his expression grew increasingly confused.
He had not been informed of any late-night visitor. And the duke’s bedroom was not a place anyone could enter without strict procedures.
Which means… His Grace’s will was involved to some extent…
Yet looking at his unstable master, as if he could shatter at a touch, only raised more questions.
I should not probe too deeply.
What mattered now was something else.
Godwin’s expression turned grave again.
If Rihit’s imprint had indeed been an accidental occurrence, as he suspected, a very troublesome issue was now looming right before them.
“However, Your Grace… it is winter.”
“…!”
Rihit’s eyelids lifted belatedly at the butler’s implication.
“Damn it.”
“You have not told her yet?”
“……”
Rihit’s silence confirmed it.
Winter—the mating season of wolves.
Though Rihit appeared entirely human on the outside, he had inherited wolf instincts from before birth, and once an imprint was fully formed, it would inevitably ignite an intense craving for his mate.
Of all times… it had to be winter.
No matter how overwhelmed he had been by the sudden situation, Rihit realized he had not told Luciana the most important and troublesome fact, and he irritably tilted his head back.
The thought of revealing this cruel reality to the pitiful girl waiting in ignorance made his stomach twist as if he had swallowed dirt.
“…That won’t be an issue. We agreed to meet again at the ball.”
“Yes, understood.”
“Anything else?”
“Ah, there is one more thing…”
Noticing that his master was not leaving the office as usual, Godwin spoke again.
The servants who had cleaned the bedroom that morning had found something and brought it to him.
It was a small insignia, no larger than Rihit’s thumbnail—a badge depicting a red rose and a white snake on a black background.
What is this?
Did she leave it behind?
The coiled snake looked both sinister and strangely elegant.
It did not appear to be decorative, but Rihit assumed it belonged to Luciana without much thought. After all, she had been the only one to enter his bedroom.
“I will pass it on separately. Leave it here.”
“Yes. Ah, should I have the servants begin preparing for the ball attire now?”
Checking the clock, it was already close to five.
It was still early for formal dressing, but Rihit needed to organize what he had to tell Luciana, so he nodded lightly.
“Then I shall take my leave.”
Returning to his usual composed expression, Godwin left the office to attend to his duties.
Left alone, Rihit rubbed his throbbing temple and stood up.
…Luciana Leslie.
Thinking of his soon-to-be-seen mate, his blood-colored eyes were devoid of warmth, like frost-covered glass.
＊ ＊ ＊
“Miss, how would you like your hair styled?”
“Just keep it natural.”
“What about perfume? I brought several that would match your outfit…”
The maids were busy preparing for the ball.
Luciana, receiving careful brushing from her maid Mary, checked the clock on the wall.
The ball was scheduled for nine, and it had just passed seven, so there was still plenty of time.
“Why do you look so gloomy today?”
“I just want to rest in bed instead of dealing with high society.”
“What? Did something happen with your partner?”
Mary looked puzzled at Luciana, who had personally chosen her dress and accessories two weeks in advance, now suddenly acting differently.
“Ah!”
Then she suddenly remembered that her lady had stayed out overnight and began acting dramatically, as if watching a romance heroine’s story unfold.
“Oh my, oh my! I’m so inattentive! You must be exhausted, my lady!”
“…No I’m not. I’m just tired, that’s all.”
“Hehe. Sorry.”
At Luciana’s sharp gaze, Mary quickly shut her mouth, though her cheeks remained lifted in excitement.
Ugh… thanks to Mary, I’m remembering last night again.
Luciana shuddered at herself for getting tangled in bed with Rihit, not even knowing he was the male lead.
How wonderful it would be if all of this were just a dream that disappeared upon waking.
Even knowing it was nonsense, she kept hoping for some meaningless miracle.
“Shall I tie it half-up and secure it with pins?”
“Yeah. We decided on that necklace, right? The pearl Father gave me for my coming-of-age day.”
“Yes! I’ll bring it right away.”
“Mary, you don’t have to go overboard. Anyone watching would think this is a bride preparing for her wedding.”
Luciana calmly soothed Mary, who was overflowing with enthusiasm for the ball. But Mary, determined to make her lady the most beautiful woman tonight, seemed not to hear a word.
