I Will No Longer Live As Your Villainess

Lorirolds regretted it deeply. No amount of money or even the allure of a woman could justify the mess he had gotten himself into.

He should never have gotten involved with the Heredian family, no matter what. Now, what good was sighing and lamenting over his choices? It was utterly useless. All he could see ahead was darkness.

The family’s reputation, already dragged through the mud, showed no signs of recovery. Their once-thriving businesses had all gone bankrupt. Without alcohol, he couldn’t bear to face his current reality. Yet, the thought of running away terrified him—because of Lady Laurencia.

To be honest, the idea of fleeing had crossed his mind countless times. But the last words Lady Laurencia had spoken to him sent shivers down his spine, pinning him inside the mansion.

“Virtue can mask flaws, but no flaw can be hidden by any virtue, Lord Lorirolds.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“You might have been able to hide Miss Sophie’s matter. But as for your current situation, Lord Lorirolds, no virtue will suffice to cover it up.”

“How do you know about Sophie?”

“Does it matter how I know? Isn’t what comes next far more pressing? The honor duel, perhaps?”

“Cancel it immediately, you monster!”

“As a ‘monster,’ let me give you one warning. Don’t appoint a proxy for the duel or disgrace yourself by running away. And on the day of the duel… ”

Lorirolds’s brown eyes flickered with unease, betraying the fear he desperately tried to suppress. Unable to endure the mounting anxiety, he reached for the bottle, drinking to numb himself.

“There’s no way I can win an honor duel against Prince Luance!”

How did Lady Laurencia, the bastard child supposedly confined to the Heredian estate, know about Sophie? Or perhaps, being a “monster,” she had the ability to read minds. The thought alone made his skin crawl. Running seemed like an option, but if he were caught?

Lady Laurencia had promised to part ways amicably once she had used him sufficiently. He knew he had to wait, but fear gnawed at him.

“Thinking back, I was caught in a trap from the beginning.”

It was suspicious from the moment the Heredian family formally recognized an illegitimate child as unattractive and unremarkable as Lady Laurencia. Typically, female bastards were legitimized for strategic marriages, requiring beauty and grace.

But anyone could see Lady Laurencia’s recognition had nothing to do with political matchmaking. It was clear he had been used to test whether she possessed the so-called monster’s power.

“Damn it!”

The realization that he had been manipulated filled Lorirolds with anger, overwhelming his fear and anxiety. Even if he was at the bottom of the social ladder, being used in this way felt utterly unjust.

“Either way, I’m dead.”

As he guzzled the last of the alcohol and wiped his mouth with his sleeve, his door burst open with a loud bang. Standing there were Adrian and Lancelon.

“Crown Prince Adrian!”

“Apologies for the sudden visit, Lord Lorirolds.”

“No, Your Highness.”

The moment he saw Adrian, Lorirolds threw himself to the ground in submission.

“There’s no need to bow so low, Lord Lorirolds.”

Staggering to his feet, Lorirolds hiccupped.

“Your mansion seems quite empty.”

“Well, rumors of my recent misfortune have spread, leading to the bankruptcy of all our ventures. Most of the staff has left the estate as a result.”

The stench of alcohol emanating from Lorirolds made Adrian and Lancelon wrinkle their noses, though they quickly masked their discomfort with faint smiles of pity.

“What brings Your Highness here?” Lorirolds asked cautiously, stealing glances at Adrian.

“Lady Laurencia asked me to pass along a message. She said she’d let you go if you handed over a letter.”

A flicker of hope appeared on Lorirolds’s face, but it quickly gave way to a pale, ashen expression.

“I’ve never exchanged letters with Lady Laurencia, Your Highness. I don’t know what letter she could mean…”

Adrian leaned in close, a warm smile on his face as he whispered softly in Lorirolds’s ear.

“You must have it—the letter from the Heredian family.”

Adrian smirked as he turned to leave, recalling Lady Laurencia’s parting words.

“Your Highness, what brings you here?”

Lorirolds asked nervously, gauging Adrian’s mood.

“Lady Laurencia requested I deliver a message. She said she’d part ways with you if you handed over a certain letter,” Adrian replied.

Lorirolds’s face briefly lit up with hope, only to drain of color.

“I’ve never exchanged letters with Lady Laurencia, Your Highness. I have no idea what letter she’s referring to…”

Adrian’s smile widened, his eyes narrowing as he leaned closer to whisper softly in Lorirolds’s ear.

“Oh, but you do. The letter from the Heredian family…”

Adrian straightened, his smirk growing as he recalled Laurencia’s words.

“Right now, the star of the social scene is Illina. But the foundation she’s built her status on is as fragile as a sandcastle. A single wave could bring it all crashing down.”

In the current social circles, Lady Illina of the Heredian family reigned supreme. Armed with immense wealth and influence, she dominated balls, soirées, and tea parties, despite her young age.

For Charlotte, who was only beginning to establish her presence in Ischter’s social scene, becoming the “flower” of high society seemed an impossible dream.

“What letter are you asking for, Lady Laurencia? What does it have to do with the social queen?”

“Once you read it, Your Highness, you’ll understand,” Laurencia had replied.

“Fine. I’ll retrieve this letter myself.”

“Illina is currently basking in her role as the kind little sister who looks after her unfortunate illegitimate sibling. Her position as the social queen seems unshakable. But with just that letter, the sandcastle Illina has built will crumble—with the smallest wave.”

Adrian had shivered at her calm assertion. No matter how much he thought about it, the plan seemed far too meticulous for someone who had been isolated from society.

“What do you gain from creating this situation, Lady Laurencia?”

“I wouldn’t have orchestrated this if there was nothing to gain.”

“And what is that?”

“My life.”

Laurencia’s blunt response had taken Adrian by surprise.

“Even as a lowly bastard, I want to live. To be honest, I don’t particularly want to live, but before my mother passed away, she made me promise to survive. She said one day, I’d have the chance to live a normal life. I believe that chance has come, and to seize it, I orchestrated this. In exchange for my life, I offer the throne of the social queen.”

Her quiet, composed voice carried the weight of someone who had seen the darkest depths of life. There was no trace of deceit in her words.

Next to her, Teyshar had looked visibly upset, his sorrow evident.

“Your Highness, please, no more questions for Lady Laurencia,” Teyshar had said, glaring protectively, much like a mother cat shielding her kitten. Reluctantly, Adrian had refrained from probing further.

Back in the present, Adrian persisted in questioning Lorirolds about the letter, despite his aversion to the stench of alcohol.

“If it’s a letter from the Heredian family…” Lorirolds murmured, slapping his forehead in frustration as he tried to remember. Suddenly, it came to him—the first letter Illina had sent.

He recalled tucking it away in his desk drawer.

“There is a letter,” he admitted, staggering toward the desk. He fumbled through the drawers until he found two letters from Illina and handed them over to Adrian.

“Here they are.”

Adrian confirmed the Heredian family seal on the envelopes.

“This confirms that Lady Laurencia has ended things with me, right, Your Highness?”

“If the letters are genuine, then yes. Congratulations on your separation.”

“Thank you, Your Highness. Those letters are indeed from Lady Illina of the Heredian family…” Lorirolds trailed off, his face shifting from a smile to a grimace.

As realization dawned, he thought about how those letters could have salvaged his reputation. But it was too late—the letters were now tucked safely into Adrian’s possession.

“Judging by your expression, you’ve realized how important these letters are, Lord Lorirolds,” Adrian said with a sly smile.

“Damn it…”

Adrian chuckled as he turned away. Lorirolds stood frozen, unable to respond, paralyzed by despair.

Once outside the Stouff mansion, Adrian unfolded the letter and read its contents. The letter contained requests from Illina, asking Lorirolds to escort Laurencia to her debutante ball and be her first dance partner. It also mentioned teaching Laurencia social dance in exchange for generous compensation.

What shocked Adrian most was the detailed description of Laurencia: her short stature, frail frame, and a note claiming she would do anything she was told.

After reading the letter, Adrian fully understood Laurencia’s earlier words.

“Abuse wasn’t limited to Madam Anne. And this letter? It’s far more than a small wave. It’s a massive tidal wave.”

The thought of Illina, pretending to be a caring sister in public while crafting such a letter, disgusted Adrian.

He sighed, folded the letter, and tucked it back into his coat.

“Sir Lancelon.”

“Yes, Your Highness?”

“When I become emperor, I’ll establish laws to protect illegitimate children.”

“Your Highness, illegitimacy is proof of infidelity. The noblewomen may fiercely oppose it.”

“The sin of infidelity cannot be the sin of the child. Associating bastards with their parents’ wrongdoing is nothing more than an excuse for misplaced anger. No child chooses to be born illegitimate.”

“You’re absolutely right.”

“Lady Laurencia’s case proves that bastards need protection.”

Adrian thought of her gaunt figure and hollow cheeks, clear evidence of years of abuse and neglect. Even Teyshar’s silent care for her spoke volumes.

“I underestimated the situation. I apologize, Your Highness,” Lancelon said.

“There’s no need. You were right that changing public opinion won’t be easy. Noblewomen have every reason to feel anger when faced with the consequences of their husbands’ affairs. But we must find a way—a way to minimize the harm to both parties.”

Lancelon smiled. Adrian had a knack for speaking lightly about heavy matters but always shouldered the weight of his words. Lancelon knew the empire would grow more peaceful with Adrian’s thoughtful leadership.

“You’ll help me, won’t you, Sir Lancelon?”

“Of course, Your Highness. I’m with you all the way.”