Kill the Villainess [Novel] - Chapter 10

“Lady Miserian…”

Someone must have been handling the tasks Helena postponed while she went to meet the Crown Prince. That’s why she could maintain such delicate hands. I couldn’t stand it.

No, wait—let’s be honest. I hated the inferiority complex that surfaced whenever I met her. I thought I was managing just fine, but seeing her always made me resent myself and my circumstances.

Would things have been different if I’d been born into wealth? That question had weighed on me for years. Only after coming to this world and becoming Eris, a noblewoman who lacked nothing, did I realize the truth—I was just rotten at my core.

But so what if my personality’s awful? The Crown Prince goes around hitting people, yet no one bats an eye. What’s so wrong about hating someone in my heart? My emotions belong to me alone.

“So don’t bother apologizing. I’ll keep hating you anyway.”

That way, you’re free to hate me too, Helena. Even someone like you, who’s never hated anyone in her life.

* * *

The morning preparations exhausted me. Back in Korea, I only wore makeup for weddings, but ever since becoming Eris, they make a fuss about cosmetics every time I step out.

At least the maids apply and remove it for me… Come summer, I’ll convince them to skip it altogether. Eris is already rail-thin without a corset—I’ll insist we stop after today.

Clad in the violet dress sent by the imperial family and weighed down by excessive jewelry, I stepped outside.

Normally, I’d take the family carriage, but today—being a special occasion—the palace had sent one. The white marble and gold-trimmed vehicle dazzled my eyes. A weary sigh escaped me before I could stop it.

The Marquis suggested hiring a knight, but what’s the point for someone resolved to die? I won’t ruin someone’s life by making them fail to protect me.

I planned to endure the gawking noble ladies and return quickly.

“What a radiant morning, Your Highness.”

The Crown Prince awaited my arrival with a face like he’d bitten something foul. Normally he wouldn’t show up—must be the Emperor’s doing.

Gasps rippled through the crowd. Today’s carefully crafted Eris was dazzling enough to warrant such reactions.

But the Crown Prince, who saw Helena—the novel’s peerless beauty—daily, remained unfazed. Not even a perfunctory compliment.

When I reluctantly extended a single finger instead of my hand, he tilted his head with a “what’s this?” expression. They say handsome men get away with anything, but his good looks only annoyed me more because of his personality.

Think you’re special with that eyebrow raise? Watch this. Mirroring his expression, I stared back until he abruptly seized my hand and marched forward. When I squirmed at the creepy contact, he tightened his grip.

Shocked, I planted my feet. As I resisted, he turned with visible irritation.

Our silent standoff ended when he suddenly scooped me up princess-style. Cheers and whistles erupted around us. Was he insane?

“How utterly improper!”

“Says the one resorting to cheap tricks for my attention.”

I nearly ripped out his perfect hair. Feigning adjustment around his neck, I extended my nails—should’ve asked the maids to sharpen them more. Ready to scratch if he spouted more nonsense.

Through gritted teeth, I whispered: “I want none of this. Put me down before we both embarrass ourselves.”

“No. You’re practically imperial property now. Whatever petition you made to His Majesty worked—he ordered me to personally attend to you.”

“Implying this is my fault?”

“Your reaction confirms it.”

“Perhaps His Majesty simply distrusts you.”

Realizing he’d been reprimanded by his father, I almost let it go—until he blamed me again. My last shred of patience vanished.

After a quick glance around, I dug my nails in. Startled, he loosened his grip enough for me to scramble down and kneel dramatically.

“Your Highness! Had you told me you were fatigued! Forgive my obliviousness!”

All eyes turned to him—now branded as too weak to carry his slender fiancée. Before he could speak, I shrieked again:

“Attendants! Where’s the parasol! Should His Highness collapse on this important day—!”

A pale-faced attendant came running with an oversized parasol.

Pretending to support him, I clung close and locked arms.

His dumbfounded expression at my sudden change was priceless. Not that I cared.

Having crossed the point of no return, I needed payback threefold. With a smile, barely moving my lips, I hissed:

“Smile. Didn’t you say His Majesty ordered you to care for me?”

“His indulgence makes you overstep, Lady Miserian.”

“Then petition him again.” Feigning concern, I dabbed his forehead with a handkerchief—lacing kindness with venom. A subtle smirk completed the act.

“Beg him to annul your engagement with this wicked woman and wed Helena Antebellum instead. Shall we kneel together?”

Had he agreed, I’d have gladly joined the plea—our mutual disdain made the engagement pointless anyway. But he wouldn’t—that was the issue.

Too scared to defy his father, yet taking it out on me? Unacceptable.

The more I thought about it, the angrier I grew. Why harass me when he’s the desperate one?

Having tolerated this to maintain Eris’s obedient image, now he dared lay hands on me? Any more restraint would be disastrous.

As our stalemate continued, attendants grew restless. The Crown Prince muttered:

“Don’t assume His Majesty will always favor you. You possess a singular talent for eroding goodwill.”

“Goodwill? From you? How curious—I certainly feel none.”

Bark all you want—I’m moving on. For the attendants’ sake, I dragged him forward. Let’s cooperate in ending this quickly.

The ceremony was as magnificent as it was interminable. Even stunning gowns and jewels couldn’t offset the torture of corsets and imperial company after predawn preparations.

Hungry from skipping breakfast and nauseous from waist-cinching, I slipped out during recess for air.

My narrow-toed shoes made every step agony. Though longing to sit, my dress couldn’t risk dirt before reappearances.

While seeking clean seating, odd noises caught my attention—muffled sounds resembling scuffling or murmurs.

Ghosts? Following the sounds led me not to spirits but…

…a sackcloth-clad man surrounded by knights delivering kicks.

“Get up, vermin!”

“Playing dead like some slug? Pathetic.”

“Answer—”

Another heavy blow sent him flying. Unlike previous recoveries, this time he stayed down.

“Done already?”

“Hey, pick him up. These lowborns lack even basic grit.”

Ah. Of course. The Empire maintained rigid hierarchies—essential for centralized imperial power where status gaps prevented challenges to the throne.

Even Helena needed her family’s name cleared before marrying the Crown Prince.

For commoners here, only two paths existed upward: knighthood or magical engineering.

Both required talent and effort—neither exclusive to commoners. Without exceptional genius, noble-backed candidates typically succeeded faster—connections mattering more than merit.

As the Marquis mentioned last night, knights often served as stepping stones for their patrons’ advancement.

Wealthy commoners formed protective cliques; impoverished nobles avoided crossing them—bribes ensuring peaceful coexistence.

Their fear and frustration inevitably targeted society’s weakest: poor commoners. Tormenting them became an outlet for daily anxieties.

…Nothing unique to this world—human nature transcends dimensions. The real question was whether to intervene.

Their precaution of covering him with cloth to avoid staining uniforms suggested this wasn’t their first beating.

Blind compassion would only worsen his suffering after I left—they’d take it out on him tenfold.