Disqualified as a Villainess - Chapter 65

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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#65.

I returned to my room, finished bathing, and stepped out of the bathroom while drying my wet hair.
By some inexplicable coincidence, when the Admiral encountered a group of shirtless men, he said surprisingly little about it.
To his eyes, they must have looked no different from May’s collection of handsome admirers.
‘We’re not really in a position to worry about such things anyway.’
Though he spoke of not meeting other men, it stemmed more from his principle of having an ‘official lover’ than from any genuine jealousy.
‘Right, there’s no way he could be jealous….’
I nodded to myself and had barely stepped into the bedroom when I nearly shrieked at the sight of the Admiral sitting on the bed with his arms crossed.
“Why are you here?”
“Is there a problem with my presence? You barge into my room whenever you please.”
He tilted his head arrogantly, mimicking the shameless expression I’d worn back then.
I had indeed burst in on him while he was changing clothes before, so I suppose we’re even.
Dressed only in a slip, I quickly threw on a robe before approaching him with some nervousness.
“Is there something you needed?”
“I cannot abide the sight of another man coming and going from your bedroom.”
He fixed me with an unwavering gaze, as if demanding an explanation.
“Ah, Febrien is….”
Was he referring to Febrien?
Though her true form was female, she currently appeared as a man, so the misunderstanding was entirely reasonable.
“It’s complicated to explain. There are special circumstances I cannot discuss.”
“A special hobby, no doubt.”
He cut off my words smoothly, lifting his chin.
“Enough to dress Saint Uriana in men’s clothing and drag her into your bedroom.”
“What?”
He recognized her?
Ewain, Logan, and even the Saint Man didn’t seem to know.
Using Vittore’s transmutation ceremony, the disguise certainly wasn’t something easily seen through.
“From now on, you are forbidden from meeting other women as well.”
The conservative Admiral had issued a ban on contact with all of humanity.
I quickly offered an excuse.
“Tonight was supposed to be a strategy meeting, a late-night meal, and sleeping together, yes, but…. And Saint Uriana is only here to help with this operation. She said she wanted to repay a debt.”
He was not the sort of man to resort to crude blackmail using the Saint.
Rather than interrogating me about harboring a fugitive, he was questioning my tastes instead.
“Anyway, I won’t be bringing anyone else into my bedroom, so would you please leave? It’s time for bed.”
“Did you think I came merely to talk?”
“Then what are you here to do?”
He removed his uniform jacket and answered with an unbothered expression.
“I came to sleep.”
Seeing the question mark appear on my face, he tilted his head slightly.
I glanced at him sitting there, his muscular frame outlined beneath a crisp white shirt, a black leather holster crossing his chest.
His jet-black hair, still damp from the shower and carrying the scent of soap, made him appear more sensual than usual.
“Is something the matter?”
His repeated question, delivered with those weary eyes, seemed to emphasize our partnership masquerading as lovers.
In name alone it was crude, but in truth, our relationship remained perfectly chaste.
What contact we’d had so far had been sufficient, and there had been no real occasion to deepen it.
I’d even considered making an aggressive proposal to him, since he matched my preferences…
But after witnessing the weapon he kept hidden, I couldn’t bring myself to speak first. It had suppressed even my experimental spirit.
My gaze drifted down to his waistband before I hastily lifted my eyes.
“No problem at all.”
I never thought the day would come when he’d seek me out in the bedroom.
And with such a serious expression, no less.
He neatly folded his uniform coat and placed it on the nightstand, then beckoned me closer with a glance.
I approached the Admiral, my shoulders tensing with apprehension.
Each time his cold gaze fell upon me, a faint tremor seemed to brush across my skin.
“From now on, I won’t tolerate you acting on your own whims.”
“So you’ll take the lead yourself?”
His eyes narrowed as he looked directly at me—apparently that wasn’t what he meant.
“Could it be… you’re jealous?”
True to his Apostle of Dominion Bloodline nature, while other emotions were faint, his need for control and possession ran deep.
I didn’t truly understand the spectrum of emotions the Royal Family experienced.
“You should know by now that I am not like ordinary people.”
He seized my wrist and pulled me toward him as he continued.
“What appears to be desire or emotion is merely a means to maintain dominion structures—not for the sake of human connection.”
I offered no resistance and moved closer as he drew me in.
“In short, it is management of what belongs to me.”
His final addition was a declaration of absolute truth.
“Everything else is useless emotion. To me, others are nothing but objects.”
What appears as human affection is merely obsession over possessions that hold utility or please me.
Even intimate relations are simply the act of sharing power with my subordinates, or producing strong heirs to perpetuate my dominion—nothing more, nothing less.
He fixed his gaze on me as if reading the shift in my expression, then exhaled slowly.
“You are no exception.”
I studied the Admiral’s tightly pressed lips and the depths of his darkened eyes.
‘If this is the materiality of a ruler who pursues only efficiency, then love—the most chaotic and inefficient of emotions—would be the antithesis.’
Why bother explaining it? I’m not someone he expects to understand.
With that thought, he brought his face close to mine.
“It is all nothing but inexplicable possession, and I still despise you.”
His eyes were taut, as if reason’s thread were about to snap. His face mingled revulsion and desire as he spoke.
“That’s why you told me I could do as I please with you. Because you intend to act on your own whims as well.”
His voice, rough against his vocal cords, brought his lips to brush faintly against mine.
With so few expressions crossing his face, I couldn’t tell if he was genuinely angry or not.
At my startled flinch, a low scoff escaped him.
“Unlike your other personalities, I thought you’d keep up the pretense of refinement to the end. Did you think I’d tolerate this forever?”
His lips twisted savagely before pressing against mine completely.
I gasped, my eyes widening as he parted my sealed lips with his tongue.
This was the first time he’d kissed me of his own volition.
He, who had endured to the breaking point to avoid showing his fractured self, now pushed his tongue into my mouth with desperate urgency, like a man whose reason had shattered, stealing my breath.
The sensation of heated hands and the dense intertwining of our bodies made my vision swim.
“Ah.”
With a soft thud.
Lifting my body with a single arm, he turned me onto the Bedroom.
Uncertain what to do, I remained on my knees, leaning forward and staring at the sheets before nervously glancing back over my shoulder.
He gazed down at me with an expressionless face, unfastening the buttons of his shirt cuffs.
The moment I turned back to face forward, I felt his body heat and solid weight settle against my back.
Pressing himself against me from behind, he whispered against the nape of my neck.
“Is this how you want it?”
Though I possessed knowledge in this area, my mind went completely blank when the moment actually arrived.
His large hand traced leisurely across the skin beneath the smooth silk slip, then gripped the narrow curve of my waist.
I tried to pull away from the heavy pressure against my buttocks, but he quickly caught me and pulled me back into place.
“Hah, ah, no….”
An embarrassing sound escaped me unintentionally.
“From my perspective, it’s not unpleasant.”
His languid words trailed off as I felt his hot breath against the line connecting my neck and shoulder. Soon his lips pressed against me, sticky and warm.
At the unfamiliar yet stimulating sensation, my hips moved of their own accord.
The contact, his ragged breathing, even his masculine scent—everything felt so intensely sensitive it made me shudder.
“I think I’d prefer to see your face crying beneath me.”
Did this man, who’d been pretending to be a gentleman, really know how to say such things?
As I tried to turn my body upright, his other hand, with clear intent, slipped smoothly beneath my top and gripped my thigh.
I felt my body wedged into place, held firmly.
I glanced down between my barely-holding knees and gasped at the sight of his pants straining to their limit.
‘Gasp.’
The immensity that had grown hazy with time suddenly felt very real.
I became acutely aware of just how hard the weapon nestled between my tensed thighs was.
Each slow movement sent my body hair on end and made my spine ache.
“This seems like it will hurt.”
“What does that have to do with me?”
His indifferent voice from over my shoulder sent another wave of alarm through me.
“I thought you’d accepted all of this treatment.”
“Whether you make trash remarks or treat me however you wish, I don’t care either way.”
After all, for someone like me who feeds on disdain, it’s actually welcome.
“Your posture is the problem.”
Lying prone in a vulnerable position, I turned back to him with a stern expression.
“Shouldn’t it be good for both of us?”
He let out a deflated laugh and seized both my arms, fixing my posture in place.
“What are you doing….”
It was quite an embarrassing position. As I turned back with my arms pinned, he twisted his lips into a smirk and pulled his hips back.
“I am not a man so considerate as all that.”
Then, with a sharp thrust, he struck.
“Ah!”
A gasp escaped me in surprise at the sensation of my back arching, followed by a low chuckle.
I never imagined he could be so crude in his teasing.
“You’re always trying to dominate me, but now you want me to take it easy on you in bed?”
So he won’t yield even during our intimate hours?
Or does that mean what just happened was the real thing?
Trying to dominate here would clearly be my loss.
So I decided to concede once. Thus, I resolved to show him the image of defeat he desired.
I turned back to him with a pitiful, forlorn expression.
“Please show mercy.”
His slack lips pulled taut.
Whether my sympathy-inducing tactic worked, he released me but still offered a haughty rebuke.
“I told you to lie straight, did I not.”
He gazed down at me, who had hurriedly turned onto my back, with an intense stare.
Despite his reluctant expression, those eyes flushed with crimson stirred a sense of transgression even in this moment.
“Whether you know this or not.”
He leaned his upper body down with disheveled composure and added with relative ease.
“Ordinary people die if they share a bed with the Royal Family. Weak ability users meet the same fate.”
“What?”
“I was curious how you survived at first.”
He still believed we had consummated our union.
No—he saw me as a curious survivor who had overcome death itself.

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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