I Became the Villain’s Daughter – Chapter 139
In the video, Laila sat in her room, her face pale as snow. Around her, the maids fidgeted anxiously, afraid the sparks of her anger might fly in their direction. With trembling hands, Laila crushed the letter she had just read into a wrinkled ball.
“Wh–what is this…? Is this true?”
The maid who had brought her the letter flinched and nodded timidly.
“Y-Yes, Lady Lufe’s handwriting is unmistakable.”
“……”
Laila’s face twisted in anguish. Watching her from behind, I couldn’t help but sympathize with her.
No wonder—Lufe’s letter, while written under the pretense of “concern,” was filled with vile rumors about Laila. The contents varied: that she would strike anyone who displeased her, that she crippled servants of lower birth, that her relationships with men were so numerous that one could form a crowd with her past lovers… All of it dripping with malice.
Laila tried to maintain her composure, but it was clear she was struggling. Born the only daughter of a powerful duke, she had lived a life free of want. When had she ever been the target of such public humiliation before?
After biting her lip for a moment, she rose from her seat.
“I have to speak with Father.”
She immediately went to see her father and pleaded with him about the rumors spreading around her.
The duke didn’t take her words lightly. In fact, the slander had already begun to extend beyond Laila to the entire family.
“…I will look into it.”
With calm authority, he tried to reassure her. Laila nodded slowly.
She believed that once her father, the duke, intervened, the rumors would quickly fade away. But once words like that start circulating, they rarely disappear. The more they tried to suppress them, the more the gossip spread in secret—like fuel to fire.
Of course, such things never happened by chance. No one would dare defame a ducal house unless they had powerful backing.
It had to be another ducal family like Peregrine, a foreign royal house—or perhaps… the Imperial family itself.
Watching people rush about, a chill crept down my spine.
“It’s the same.”
It was just like what had happened to me. At the time, I had been too dizzy and disoriented to remember clearly, but I distinctly recalled drinking the cocktail a maid had handed me before collapsing. There must have been poison—or something similar—in it.
And the one behind it… I didn’t have to think hard to guess. No foreign power or the Peregrine family would bother poisoning me. It had to be Altheo.
With Crown Prince Thea’s coronation fast approaching, his desperation had driven him to reckless measures. I remembered clearly—he had kept his eyes on me during that last banquet.
“……”
In the video, Laila fidgeted nervously. For all her faults, her nature wasn’t truly cruel. She wasn’t even twenty yet—how could she possibly endure such venomous rumors?
That was when I became certain. Crown Prince Altheo was using her for something.
The rumors only grew more grotesque. When Laila began avoiding social gatherings, people whispered that she was hiding because she was pregnant. Rumors without a clear source were nearly impossible to stop.
And in the midst of it all, the Emperor passed away.
The state funeral held in spring was grand, but beneath the solemnity was an undercurrent of excitement. Everyone speculated eagerly about what kind of ruler the new emperor would be.
Naturally, the next emperor was Altheo. With his coronation only a month away, even Laila couldn’t help but be filled with anticipation.
Until now, Altheo had postponed their wedding repeatedly, using the coronation as an excuse. Despite enduring countless rumors alone, he had never once reached out to comfort her—but still, Laila loved him.
It was painful to watch—for her family, and for me. It felt as if Altheo’s carefully laid schemes were now taking shape before our eyes.
And then, the inevitable happened.
At an official gathering, Altheo dropped a bombshell.
Laila was there too.
With his trademark confidence, Altheo strode to the podium. Now that he was about to become Emperor of the Ulysses Empire, nothing stood in his way. Behind him stood the Empress, Cardia, and nearby were members of the Peregrine family. Among them were familiar faces—Luceran and Ivharun—who simply stood still, expressionless.
Altheo’s tone was brisk and overflowing with confidence, leaving no room for doubt or remorse.
“I cannot allow an unchaste woman to become the mother of this nation.”
With those words, he publicly announced his engagement with Laila was over.
A unilateral decision—without a single word exchanged with her beforehand.
All eyes turned toward Laila.
“……”
She stood trembling, as if unable to comprehend what was happening.
Then, she fainted.
The video fast-forwarded again.
A few days later, while she was still bedridden, Laila received a visitor—her friend, Lufe.
“My poor Lady Laila…”
Tears glistened in Lufe’s eyes as she tried to comfort her. Laila sat on her bed, her expression vacant. Even dressing properly to greet a guest seemed too much for her.
“You must stay strong, especially at a time like this.”
“……”
But Laila said nothing. After a moment’s hesitation, Lufe continued gently,
“Please think carefully, Laila. His Highness only ever used you. It’s a blessing that you’ve escaped now, before it was too late.”
Her words weren’t wrong. Altheo had indeed used her until there was nothing left to gain—and then discarded her. To say it was a blessing to escape him might have been fair… in theory.
Altheo’s excuse—that she was ‘unchaste’—was nothing more than a convenient lie. Laila knew it. Lufe knew it. The whole world knew it. Yet Altheo had cast her aside without a shred of hesitation, as if throwing away a broken tool.
But it wasn’t just Altheo.
From what I knew, even Lufe—the woman before her—had used Laila. She had manipulated her to remove other women close to Altheo.
And all those people who had once approached Laila with kind smiles were the same. They had fawned on her like honeyed tongues, not out of affection, but greed—for her wealth, her status, her power. No one had ever truly stood by her side.
Of course, there were those who loved her for who she was—her brothers, her father.
But Laila had never noticed.
And so she suffered.
After Lufe left, Laila sat silently for a while before rising from her bed.
She approached the mirror and stared at her reflection for a long time. I stood behind her, watching.
Our reflections—so similar, yet so different—appeared side by side in the same mirror. When her hand lifted to touch the glass, I flinched. Coincidentally, her fingers pressed exactly where my face appeared in the reflection.
The dark circles under her eyes showed how much she had suffered. Her cheeks were hollow, her face gaunt from countless tears. After staring at herself for a long moment, her expression hardened with resolve.
Putting on her outer coat, she quietly descended the stairs and knocked on her father’s study door.
“…It’s Laila.”
“Come in.”
At his calm reply, she entered.
The familiar scent of books filled the air. Her father sat at his desk, lifting his gaze toward her. Laila spoke in an even tone.
“I came because there’s something I need to tell you.”
“Yes? What is it?”
“To be precise… it’s a request.”
Her hands clenched tightly—so tightly that her knuckles turned white.
“I want…”
“……”
“…to take revenge.”
I gasped.
She wasn’t crying, nor was she angry. But her voice was colder than ice as she spoke to her father.
“I want to make the man who used me and threw me away regret it to his very bones.”
Her tone was sharp as a drawn blade, carrying a chill that made even the air freeze. Her father slowly removed his glasses, setting them on the desk.
His weary face showed that he, too, had suffered deeply over the past few weeks.
“……”
When he remained silent, Laila stepped closer, her voice more forceful.
“Please, Father.”
I thought she might break down in tears—but she didn’t. Instead, she wrapped her grief in icy composure, hardening herself to survive.
Looking at her, I recalled what people used to say about her:
“There is nothing the Lady of Rosahill desires that she cannot obtain. It has always been so, and it always will be.”
Until now, her wealth, power, and family’s protection had made that true. Within her world, she had reigned as both queen and goddess.
And perhaps that was why she could say such words now.
The battle ahead would be long and brutal, with many casualties. But the duke could not turn away from his daughter’s desperate plea.
And so, with the imperial coronation drawing near—
the House of Rosahill turned against Altheo.
