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Translator: penny
Chapter: 3
Chapter Title: She's the Type Who Follows Through
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She's the type who does it if she says she will.
Tap, tap.
Amid the crowd's cheers and thunderous applause, a man and woman stepped onto the red carpet.
A blond man with red eyes, handsome in the most infuriating way. Louis.
A silver-haired beauty with purple eyes and a cold expression. Elysia.
The same guy who'd yelled "Get lost" from the terrace just moments ago, and the woman who'd burst out laughing at my corny flirting mixed with dog shit jokes.
My jaw dropped.
So that woman from earlier was Elysia?
The final boss of this novel?
The infamous villainess who poisoned the regressor protagonist in the first timeline, then ate the poison herself and committed suicide in the second?
"Holy shit..."
A trickle of cold sweat ran down my spine.
'Whoa, did I just poke the bear that seals my fate?'
This was on a level where even getting hauled off for treason wouldn't leave me with any defense.
If she actually repeated what I said about grabbing the Crown Prince by the hair, I'd have zero ground to stand on at the guillotine.
Of course, she wouldn't. She heard it and laughed, after all.
A peaceful life sucking honey from the Parne Family?
Bullshit. I'd have ended up digging potatoes in the fields only to get assassinated and turned into fertilizer.
'I'm screwed... Huh?'
Whispers from the nobles around me, hands covering their mouths with fans, drifted over.
"Oh my, look at the lady's expression. Did something upset her?"
"Even His Highness the Crown Prince looks troubled."
"The two of them are so striking and beautiful, yet they seem like the sun and the moon."
They really knew how to twist "they don't match" into something vicious.
As the murmurs rippled through the crowd, Elysia walked with her head held high.
Her face was icy, but her eyes were strangely red around the edges.
Yep, definitely the same woman I'd given advice to earlier.
No doubt about it.
"I'm an idiot. Nosiness is a curse, they say."
Seoul truly is a scary place.
I should've just stayed in the countryside farming. In that moment, I resented my father.
I started edging backward, as stealthily as possible.
Making it look natural, like I was just part of the scenery.
Behind that pillar—no, better yet, behind that massive chocolate fountain.
Please, just don't notice me. Stay dead quiet until I can slip out.
"I didn't see anything. I'm not here. I'm invisible."
I set down the turkey leg I'd been gnawing on for a while, crouched low, and tried to burrow into the crowd.
But...
"..."
Elysia, ascending the dais, suddenly halted.
Then slowly, she turned her head toward the corner where I was.
...Me?
"Gasp."
My breath caught.
No way.
She wasn't looking for me, right?
Her violet eyes fixed precisely on the pillar I was about to hide behind.
And then, ever so slightly, the corner of her mouth twitched.
Was she smiling?
Or signaling 'You're caught'?
Either way, it spelled trouble.
'Shit! I haven't hidden yet!'
Instinctively, I ducked behind a nearby waiter's tray.
Please.
Just pretend you don't see me.
I'm just a random passerby.
Don't pay attention to an extra!
At that moment, Crown Prince Louis's voice rang out from the dais.
"Thank you all, our esteemed guests, for gracing us today. Especially..."
The Crown Prince's gaze wandered somewhere.
Why do I have a feeling I know where?
I've actually read this story, you see.
To kill time during my last days in the army.
Of course, I never told my sister or little sister about it, not even up to the end of the first life.
Anyway.
So I know exactly who this guy is looking for, ignoring his fiancée right beside him.
Sure enough, the Crown Prince's eyes locked onto another woman in the corner of the banquet hall.
Saintess Lily.
She stood there with an anxious look on her face.
She looks like a total flatfish.
Seeing that expression screaming for lunch hits too close to home.
Ah, so it's starting now.
The prelude to the original story.
But something felt off.
In the original plot, every time the Crown Prince pulled this crap, villainess Elysia was supposed to look pissed off.
Right now, she didn't seem that mad.
And she just locked eyes with me.
...What's going on?
Does catching me take priority over being pissed at her fiancé's emotional affair?
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇
The moment I got home and stepped out of the carriage, a servant came scurrying over.
"Young master, the master is looking for you."
"Now? I haven't even changed clothes."
"He said to come to the study immediately. He seemed urgent."
Urgent my ass.
Obvious. He's calling me in to rap through lectures one to four.
I sighed deeply and loosened my necktie a bit more.
Should've grabbed an extra bowl of beef noodle soup outside.
"Sigh. What a life."
I dragged my heavy feet up to the second-floor study.
The aura seeping through the door crack was ominous. Like the chill right before entering the boss room.
Knock knock.
"Come in."
His voice was half an octave lower than usual.
'This is dangerous.'
Scary as hell.
"Whew."
I took a deep breath and opened the door.
Creeeak—
In the dim study.
Only the desk lamp cast a grotesque light on my father, Corinth's face.
Dad said nothing, just rolled a crystal ashtray in his hand.
Every time that heavy, angular chunk caught the light and gleamed, my scalp tingled.
I instinctively activated survival mode.
"Dad, why not just light up a smoke? Holding back seems stressful—don't want it spilling onto innocents. Taking care of your veins at the expense of your sanity?"
Dad chuckled at my banter.
But just his mouth. His eyes didn't smile.
...Why so creepy?
"I was just debating. Light it up, or chuck it at your thick skull."
"..."
"Which do you think would relieve my stress more?"
"Hm, the first one? The second's a hassle after. Blood on the floor, dynasty ends."
"The line continues without you."
True enough.
Brother's got it solid; he's the official heir.
Point is, screw up now and I'm toast.
I edged back toward the door, hand on the knob.
Ready to bolt if needed.
Then.
Dad set the ashtray back on the desk.
A bit forcefully.
Thud!
"Sent you out to show your face, and you come back the clown?"
"Clown? I quietly ate in the corner. The food was a new world for this country bumpkin."
"A guy who 'quietly ate'—why's the social scene already buzzing about Parne's barbarian?"
Gasp. Already?
Not even an hour since the banquet.
Their intel network's faster than 5G.
Someone live-streaming?
"Refused to greet anyone, ignored the nobles' chatter, just shoveled food like mad."
Dad pinched his brow and sighed deeply.
"Take after your brother half as much. Hell, a quarter. He's never slipped on table manners since childhood. Who the hell do you take after?"
"Mom's free spirit, probably. That's what charmed you into marriage, right?"
"Can't keep your mouth shut."
Dad clicked his tongue but released his grip on the ashtray.
Phew.
My skull's safe tonight.
"Pull the same stunt at tomorrow's entrance ceremony, and you're done. Uniform's tailored—try it on."
Entrance?
Oh, the academy?
...That's tomorrow?
"Already? I haven't mentally prepared..."
"Shut it. Get out of my sight. Can't stand looking at you."
"Yes, sir. Vanishing now. Long life, Dad."
I bowed quick and bolted from the study.
Bang!
This damn noble society might as well have CCTV everywhere.
Lucky only my mukbang went viral.
If the terrace chat with the villainess leaked, it'd be 'game over' for real.
Gotta watch my step from now on.
Screw up, and it's not just a cracked pot with an ashtray—could be my head on the block.
Yeah. Villainesses don't mess around.
She's the type who follows through.
I know, 'cause I saw it.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇
The next morning.
I did a final check in the mirror.
"Perfect."
The guy in the mirror wore the Imperial Academy uniform, but with a subtle twist.
That embarrassing white skinny tights everyone else wears?
Shoved straight into the warehouse.
Probably won't see daylight till I die.
I'd rather die than wear skinny jeans, but those stockings are brain-melt on steroids.
Instead, I had the baggy pants legs tailored loose into modern slacks fit.
Necktie loose around the throat, collarbone peeking—effortless chic.
That's for you.
I headed straight downstairs. Alfred and Marie waiting in the lobby gaped.
"Y-Young master?"
Marie rubbed her eyes and pointed at my legs.
"What are those pants? Like a sailboat flapping to fly away!"
"Auntie Marie, you don't get fashion."
I shoved hands in pockets, struck a pose with legs spread.
"This is ventilation. A man's treasures need to stay cool. Those tight stockings? Sit in 'em all day—no circulation, hello varicose veins."
"Va-ri... what?"
"Terrifying disease where veins bulge like earthworms on your legs. For the family line, gotta protect my lower body health, right?"
My oh-so-convincing...
Well.
Total bullshit logic made Marie crack up, clutching her stomach.
"Pfft! Can't rein in our young master. Excuses galore."
Alfred beside her coughed awkwardly.
"Ahem. Master would clutch his neck and faint at that outfit... but if you're comfy."
"See? Even you agree it's sensible, old timer. Bet those tights embarrassed you too."
"...No comment."
Alfred's ears turned pink.
Men's woes are universal.
"Alright, off I go! If school lunch sucks, I'll come back for it—wait up!"
I waved and exited through the front door.
Thomas, our ace driver uncle, waited atop the carriage.
"Yo, bro Thomas! Looking sharp today too?"
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇
Buzz buzz.
The auditorium door swung open to a wave of noise.
Like kicking a beehive—not even that would be this loud.
"Hey, look there. That's him."
"Who? Oh, the Parne Family..."
"Yeah, the starving second son who wrecked the buffet last night!"
What? Starving second son?
What a nickname.
"They say he devoured everything. Plenty saw him crunching turkey leg bones."
Do they think my teeth are carbon steel?
How the hell would I chew turkey bones, you idiots.
"Good lord, like a barbarian. Stuck in classes with that guy..."
"Look at those pants. Sailboat much? Trendy in the sticks?"
Seoul folks are stingy.
A hungry kid eats extra, big deal.
The piercing stares made me tug my collar up.
This is why I didn't wanna come.
Breathing here becomes gossip fodder.
I crammed into the darkest corner behind a pillar, out of sight.
'Don't look at me. I'm not here. Just background graphic number one.'
As I immersed in invisible man mode.
A massive ripple hit the entrance.
Whoosh—
Like Moses parting the sea, freshmen split left and right, clearing a path.
And at the end of it.
Click-clack of heels, a woman strode in.
Golden hair in high twin tails.
Sky-high nose, piercing arrogance.
Eyes dismissing everyone like ants.
...Who dis?
"It's Her Highness the Princess..."
"My god, she's even more stunning in person."
"Look at that noble grace. Royal blood is different."
Thanks, Speedwagon!
Her sparkling hair reminded me of that bickering couple from yesterday—the guy.
Princess Evelyn de Leopold.
Click, clack.
With every step, the stinging glares on me magnetized straight to her.