The Perks of Being a Villainess

On the night before the new semester began, Helen's spring dress collection—filled with her blood, sweat, and tears—finally arrived.

As soon as morning broke, the attendants picked an appropriate outfit from the collection and coordinated it with accessories. The moment I looked into the mirror, I instinctively held my forehead.

When Helen said the dress was fancy yet simple enough to wear not only to parties but also formal occasions, I thought it sounded like calling something a "hot iced Americano"—but now I get it.

It was sexy yet innocent, chic yet elegant. I was so stunning in the mirror that I was left speechless. Living life seeing a face that fits my taste every morning—what a blessing.

Overcome by admiration, I impulsively punched the wall, and the painting hanging there swayed like it had just been through an earthquake.

'This body is seriously strong.'

I didn't have any magical talent, but I had great physical strength and stamina. Ever since I possessed this body, I hadn't felt the chronic fatigue or headaches I used to suffer from in my past life. Well, I guess even being a tyrant requires spare energy. Great. I might just live a long and healthy life.

I swung my fists with satisfaction and walked past the trembling attendants. In front of the Seymour mansion, two four-wheeled carriages were waiting, each marked with the twin-dragon crest.

'One must be mine to ride… but the other one… who is it for?'

Ah, so that's the carriage the child will be riding. Seeing the small boy slowly approaching the carriage from afar, I screamed internally.

During the nearly two months I've spent here, I haven't had a single opportunity to see the youngest, Enrique Seymour. Our living quarters were separated, and like in a typical tragic novel family, we never dined together unless it was for a very serious reason.

'He's like a little kitten.'

Deborah's younger brother, Enrique, with his neatly combed silver hair, reminded me of a gray kitten. I heard he was around ten years old, but despite his baby-faced appearance, his aura was strikingly mature. Maybe it was because of those dark, sunken gray eyes.

I found myself staring at the boy's face as if entranced, until suddenly our eyes met. Frowning as if he had seen something unpleasant, Enrique turned his body without a word and disappeared into the carriage.

'Ha. Even that little kid hates Deborah.'

It was oddly impressive how Deborah managed to be disliked by everyone. Well, to be fair, Deborah didn't like Enrique either, calling him an old man in a child's body.

To make matters worse, she even felt inferior to that adorable little boy. While Deborah had no ability to sense mana at all, Enrique was already showing extraordinary talent, capable of wielding third-class magic at such a young age.

The Academy Research Institute, a subsidiary of the Magic Tower, ran a gifted program, and among those selected geniuses, Enrique was said to be the top student.

'If everyone else in your family is exceptional and you're the only one who's not, of course you'd feel inferior.'

A noble family, tons of money, beauty, a great figure, and super strength.

As for me, I'm living my life feeling thank you very much for what I have now, but Deborah was the type to be obsessed with what she didn't have. Especially when it came to her inability to use mana—her inferiority complex about it was beyond imagination.

Among all her direct and extended family members, Deborah was the only one who couldn't use mana, and the look of disappointment on her father's face probably made things worse for her.

'Still, does she really need to vent her stress through violence?'

There wasn't much room to defend Deborah, but it was still a bit depressing to be looked at with disgust even by such a cute kid.

'Oh well, I'll just live my life as a villainess.'

Little brothers are all the same, anyway. When I think back to that awful guy from my previous life, all the fantasy about having a sweet younger brother shatters instantly.

Steeling my heart, I climbed into the carriage and looked out the window as the scenery quickly changed. The view outside now showed the Yones District. Soon after, we crossed an arched bridge spanning the river and entered the Horun District, where the imperial capital was located.

The imperial-run academy, knight order, magic tower, and seminary were all based in Horun. Among noble graduates who had no inheritance to look forward to, their ideal future was to be employed at these imperial institutions and live off the salary.

Of course, my own dream was to delay marriage for as long as possible, squeeze every drop out of the Seymour Duke family's infrastructure, and then use the secret funds I'd been saving up to live as a rich... well, a head of house, not a jobless bum.

'…Anyway, I can't focus at all.'

Inside the city walls surrounding Horun, the streets were crowded with carriages carrying noble youths. I thought it would take quite some time to get through, but surprisingly, a servant stationed at the gate guided our carriage through a separate path. It was the VVIP-only road.

The taste of power is always thrilling—fresh and electrifying every single time. The carriage entered Pangaea Academy with grandeur and came to a stop in front of the main building at the center of the campus.

"Gasp."

"Look, it's her."

The moment I stepped down from the carriage, a suffocating silence blanketed the area. Because of the Seymour crest on the carriage, it had practically announced to everyone that I was none other than the infamous "Deborah Seymour."

With every step I took, the scene before me parted like Moses and the Red Sea. If anyone made accidental eye contact with me, they immediately panicked and looked away. I felt like the only predator walking through a herd of timid prey as I made my way toward the lecture hall.

'Looks like it's just as quiet here.'

As soon as I entered the large lecture hall just to fulfill my attendance quota, the once lively atmosphere turned icy cold, as if someone had dumped a bucket of cold water over it. I was basically a walking noise-cancelling machine.

'Now, where should I sit?'

I scanned the room, looking for a seat. My eyes immediately found the perfect one—far from the podium and out of the teacher's line of sight, next to a wall for a sense of security, and with fantastic lighting to top it all off.

'That's a premium seat, alright.'

Naturally, such a prime spot was already taken.

"U-uh, J-Jake, I think I need to sit up front. It's kind of warm back here."

"Huh? Oh, me too."

Maybe I had stared too intensely, because the students occupying the prime seat quietly stood up and moved toward the front.

'Since when does a villainess get a free pass like this?'

Feeling a bit dumbfounded, I plopped down in the seat they had yielded. It was absurd, sure—but I had no real reason to refuse. As expected, the spot was comfortable. The sunlight was just right, and the view outside the window was pleasant.

Resting my chin on my hand, I admired the academy's beautiful landscaping—until the surrounding chatter picked up again, prompting me to turn my head. And for a moment, I stopped breathing.

Pilaf Montes and Miya Binoche.

The moment they both entered my line of sight, my heart suddenly started pounding wildly. Even breathing in and out felt uncomfortable.

'What is this?'

It seemed to be a physical response imprinted on Deborah's body, completely unrelated to my own will. It reminded me of the subtle wave of discomfort I'd felt when I encountered Belek.

As I furrowed my brow at the strange sensation, my eyes locked with Pilaf's. Staring into his cold, deep brown eyes, a fragment of memory buried deep within slowly floated to the surface.

Six years ago, on Thanksgiving Day. Deborah first met Pilaf at a party hosted by the imperial family.

"Kyaaa!"

Back then, Deborah had accidentally knocked over a decorative candlestick placed against the wall. The flames caught the hem of her dress, and as she panicked, Pilaf used a water spirit to extinguish the fire on the lace, preventing a disaster. Because Pilaf's ability to command spirits appeared so mystical and mesmerizing, Deborah fell for him instantly.

Since that day, Deborah openly displayed her interest in Pilaf, and at one point, there were even marriage talks between the Seymour and Montes families. However, because Pilaf firmly expressed that he had no intention of marrying Deborah, those talks eventually fizzled out.

When Deborah heard rumors that Pilaf had cut off the proposal without hesitation, her pride was deeply wounded. She took her anger out cruelly on her subordinates, and that incident spread throughout the imperial capital—causing Pilaf to loathe Deborah even more, creating a vicious cycle.

Despite being rejected so clearly, Deborah couldn't let go of Pilaf and continued to harbor a twisted love and hate toward him. Deborah, who had always gotten what she wanted through sheer tyranny, was never going to behave rationally like an ordinary noble lady just to win Pilaf's favor. She went around tormenting every lady who tried to talk to or show interest in Pilaf, wearing her twisted mindset on her sleeve—"If I can't have him, then neither can you."

'Sure, Deborah might be awful, but is there really a need to hate her that much?'

Naturally biased, I found myself sympathizing more with Deborah than with Pilaf. After all, she'd shown her sincere affection for years, and yet here he was, strolling in with Miya Binoche on his arm as if to flaunt it.

'What a rude bastard.'

Pilaf, his lips set in a cold line, pulled the female lead Miya behind him even further. I felt like a villain about to attack the heroine.

'What the hell is his problem?'

If this were the original story, such overprotectiveness would only provoke Deborah's temper. Clearly, he was a guy who had no sense of awareness. Then again, if Pilaf had any tact, this novel wouldn't be a reverse harem story. It would've ended as a short piece, and I could've saved my cash.

Still, as expected of a male lead candidate, Pilaf Montes had a presence completely different from the surrounding background characters. His sharp features and bright flame-red hair made him the most eye-catching person in the room.

"Lord Pilaf?"

While I was dazed and lost in thought, I caught sight of the female lead peeking timidly from behind Pilaf's large frame, and I held my breath.

'She's insanely beautiful.'

If innocence and purity were a person, they'd be Miya Binoche.

'Even as a woman, I find her stunning.'

Petal-pink hair, cream-like skin, sapphire eyes that looked like embedded gems, a graceful, high-bridged nose, and cherry-red lips… The moment I saw her, I completely understood why every man in this story—especially those sadistic twin bastards from my family—were head over heels for her.

'Deborah, who's always been proud of her looks, must've taken a hit.'

To be honest, Miya had the kind of beauty that appealed to the masses. Now I get why the original Deborah felt such intense inferiority toward Miya Binoche.

Once you start comparing, it's a never-ending spiral.

'Feels like everyone's watching this unfold with popcorn in hand.'

It wasn't just my imagination. Ever since Pilaf and Miya walked in, people had been sneaking curious glances this way. Deborah had made her crush on Pilaf extremely obvious before, so naturally, everyone was dying to see how I'd react now.

'…Better not even make eye contact.'

Just like when I unintentionally took that prime seat by the window and it got misunderstood, staring at Miya's face for too long might also be seen as throwing a jealous glare.

I quickly turned my gaze toward the window and pretended to be absorbed in the view.

***

Pilaf was feeling down because Miya wasn't wearing the necklace he had gifted her.

But that wasn't all. The image of Deborah strutting around the academy with a smug look on her face, flaunting a pink diamond necklace, kept flashing through his mind—fueling his irritation over and over again.

"But... it's not there?"

He was quietly startled to see Deborah now wearing an extravagant black pearl necklace instead. On top of that, she had her chin rested on her hand and was facing the window, making it impossible for him to read her expression—only adding to his growing confusion.