The Male Lead Is the Villain, and I'm the Only One Who Knows - Chapter 91

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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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The Male Lead’s True Identity Is the Mastermind, and Only I Know It — Chapter 91
Like a crisp winter breeze, Ibahn’s devastatingly captivating voice wrapped around my ears with gentle softness.
What kind of demon is this? And why does everything have to come from him…? I couldn’t even manage a hollow laugh at the absurdity of it all.
“That’s something I’ll decide for myself.”
“For yourself?”
Before I could finish, Ibahn let out a faint laugh. His gaze turned sharp and cold, as though my words weren’t even worth refuting.
“What exactly were you planning to follow him for? A half-breed couldn’t dare approach the Library Archive itself.”
He meant that Chahil would be unable to guide me there.
‘Chahil, you bastard….’
He deceived me?
Until now, I’d only seen him clinging to me with blind devotion, so I’d never suspected Chahil would betray me.
If what Ibahn said was true, I’d need to teach him a lesson soon enough.
“If it weren’t for me, by now you’d be trapped in the Demon Realm, playing in the palm of that half-breed’s hand.”
“Really? Of all people, I can’t believe Chahil would do something like that….”
“Should I carve ‘Don’t trust demons’ onto your forehead so you’ll finally remember it?”
Ibahn shook his head with a dismissive wave, as though speaking itself had become exhausting.
“By that logic, you’re a demon too. How am I supposed to know whether you’ve lied to me or not?”
My deliberately provocative tone clearly got under his skin. I pursed my lips and shot the words at him—then Ibahn slowly ran his fingers through my hair and began to speak.
“I’m different, Rene. We have a ‘formal’ cooperative relationship.”
Since we’d signed a contract, it was only natural that our trust differed from others’, he said, his voice smooth and persuasive as he whispered something that sounded perfectly reasonable.
‘Sure, sure. But how am I supposed to know if that’s all just demon lies or tricks or whatever~’
If I said that out loud, he’d give me that dangerous look again. Better to stay silent.
“So is the record of Dimensional Magic in that Library Archive also fake?”
“Who knows. We’ll have to search for it. But I’ll look into that separately.”
I tensed, wondering if I’d hear that it was also a lie, but fortunately Ibahn left room for hope instead of a flat denial.
“…Alright, I got it. So why did you bring me here, anyway?”
I settled back onto the sofa. As I leaned deep into the plush seat and picked up my handkerchief and needle again, Ibahn sat across from me.
“I have news that should please you.”
“The only thing that would please me right now is if you brought me that record this instant.”
Ibahn met my cold response head-on, his chin resting in his palm as he regarded me with amusement.
“Do you remember what I told you before—that Ate wouldn’t live much longer?”
“……Yes, I remember.”
It was exactly why I was taking so much time and care to give Ate this handkerchief.
‘In the original work, Ate dies on her birthday.’
To be precise, she dies before even reaching her birthday. Just before midnight crosses over, she suffers in agony, and then her breath finally ceases.
‘But unlike the original work, Ate is currently receiving consistent treatment from Shiana, and her condition keeps improving, so maybe she could survive after all….’
I wanted to think positively, but there was something weighing on my mind that kept me from fully reassuring myself.
The reason was simple: until now, even when the major events of the original work had been twisted by my intervention, they still happened somehow.
For instance, the children going missing, or Southern mages breaching the Capital’s protective barrier and causing trouble, or—something that hasn’t happened yet but surely will soon—Rosebelle’s vengeful retaliation.
There were many other incidents besides. The order might change or they might take a slightly different form, but the consequences they brought remained unaltered.
‘Demon beasts will eventually storm the Imperial Palace too….’
Though they’re swiftly suppressed and dealt with, the fact that demon beasts breach the palace itself remains a significant crisis.
“Back then, I mentioned there were three guides stationed around Ate. Recently, that number dropped to one.”
“Oh, thank goodness.”
I’d heard only a few weeks ago that three emissaries meant death, so the fact that it had been reduced to one was truly fortunate.
“The remaining one will disappear once the treatment continues, won’t it?”
“It won’t disappear. She was always destined to be short-lived.”
“…I’m asking just in case, but do you see anything like that around me?”
I couldn’t help but glance nervously around myself, worried there might be one hovering near me too. At that, Ibahn’s eyes narrowed slowly.
“If I saw one, would you run away?”
“How could I run when you’d chase me down wherever I went? Anyway, I’m sure I don’t have one—I’m destined for a long life.”
Ever since getting tangled up with Ibahn, I’ve accumulated enough curses to fill a continent. At this rate, I was bound to live well past a hundred.
To my bold remark, Ibahn offered no particular rebuttal, only gazed intently as I slowly threaded the needle through the cloth.
But this demon isn’t answering…?
It feels too scary to press him about whether he saw one or not, so I’ll leave that for later.
“What are you embroidering? A blue stone?”
On the handkerchief, blue thread was gradually forming—well, something aimed at becoming—a circular shape.
I glanced sideways at him and opened my mouth.
“It’s Ate’s birthday in two days. She said she wanted to receive a heartfelt gift, so I’m embroidering it on a handkerchief to give to her.”
“Interesting.”
“And this isn’t a stone—it’s the imperial crest. A lion, actually.”
Never mind that it lacked a mane or any leonine features; it was a lion all the same. Given that Ate’s eyes were blue, I’d planned to embroider it in blue thread.
“That is?”
“Yes.”
What. Why. Is there a problem?
When I fixed him with an intentionally fierce glare, Ibahn released a small, incomprehensible exclamation instead of answering.
“Hmm.”
A meaningful breath escaped slowly between his lips.
Why did that bother me so much?
“I’m quite curious what mine will look like.”
At his suddenly gentle tone, my brow furrowed of its own accord. The arrogant way he assumed he’d have one too rankled me considerably.
“What are you talking about? I wasn’t going to—”
“The Hunting Festival is coming up soon.”
…Oh.
“You have the look of someone who forgot.”
“No—of course I remembered! I’ve just been so scattered lately that it slipped my mind for a moment, that’s all.”
I covered for myself, though not entirely convincingly.
‘I completely forgot!’
So much had happened since Foundation Day Festival ended! And I’d been so caught up with Dust, Chahil, and Lion that I’d let everything else slip away…!
‘If the story goes as written, demon beasts will attack people in the Labyrinth Forest where the Hunting Festival is held. It’s the catalyst for the romantic scene where Carahan falls off a cliff while rescuing Shiana.’
Right, I could accept that much. Crisis was a necessary element of any novel, so that part was fine.
The problem was that there was a hundred percent chance I’d get caught up in all that chaos.
As the Crown Prince’s fiancée, I was required to attend the Hunting Festival without fail.
‘And before that… I need to embroider a handkerchief to give to Ibahn too.’
Like most romance novels, this world also maintained the tedious hunting festival customs of a Western worldview.
When women gave handkerchiefs to their lovers or those they fancied, the knights would reciprocate by hunting down a demon beast to present to their partners.
So my giving one to the Crown Prince, as his fiancée, was—
‘Basically an obligation.’
And if I used a ready-made one, I’d get criticized for it; I had to embroider it myself. What was I supposed to do with these clumsy hands! This world’s customs were filthy and petty.
“Either way, I hope mine is prettier than that.”
Cough, cough!
His words caught in my throat and sent me into a fit of coughing. Naked anticipation and impish playfulness were woven throughout his languid voice.
“I’ll give you whatever I make. Just take it.”
At my blunt response, the corners of Ibahn’s mouth curved upward in a slow smile. It was a satisfied expression, as though he’d gotten exactly the answer he’d hoped for.

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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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