Chapter 4

After completely leaving the annex and heading toward the main gate of the royal palace, I ran into Prince Dominique, dressed in combat attire.

It seemed he was heading out on a mission with the members of his unit.

“Why are you here?”

Dominique’s cold gaze swept over my outfit—unchanged from yesterday. It was a look of sheer disgust, as if he were staring at a stalker.

“Did you hide all night after learning my schedule, only to show up now? I’m sick of this.”

Unfavorability increased [+20]

Hmph, only 20? Get lost.

I was no longer the person who fretted over every tiny increase in disfavor.

With a completely indifferent expression, I tossed out a single remark.

“I was with a man.”

I had no interest whatsoever in a prince that the original villainess had a one-sided crush on.

No matter how much of a trash-taste, disfavor-collecting person I might be, I had no intention of getting entangled with the main characters.

“You’d better not think of approaching the Admiral to make any requests. He’s notoriously violent and ruthlessly cold.”

“That’s strange. He seemed warm to me.”

Ignoring his distorted expression, I carried on my way with composure.

As I walked, I absentmindedly fiddled with Prince Dominique’s coded letter in my pocket.

‘Judging by the circumstances, both Octavia and Dominique must have made proposals to the Admiral at the same time—and in the end, Octavia’s was the one accepted.’

Knowing the miserable ending of the original story, it felt oddly ironic. Still, in the early part of the story, Admiral Kelsedny had been in a supporting role for Octavia—at least until he betrayed her.

He had also served as a barrier that prevented the protagonists from immediately eliminating her.

That was precisely why I needed to know the contents of the letter Octavia had sent.

‘Because I intend to use the Admiral as an ally, just like the original Octavia did. What on earth did she use to win over that arrogant man?’

What Octavia wanted was clear, but what the Admiral sought from her had never been revealed in the original.

Octavia trusted and relied on him completely.

Like most villains burdened by emptiness and loneliness, Octavia too was a pitiful person with no one truly on her side.

“I’ll return to the kingdom once the campaign is over.”

Those were the words the Admiral had said to Octavia before departing for the battlefield in enemy waters.

He would occasionally drop meaningful remarks like that, which made me—back when I was just a reader—briefly hope for a doomed-romance villain pairing.

At least, until the letter he sent became evidence that exposed Octavia’s crimes.

“He betrayed me? I won’t believe it until he comes back and says it himself.”

Even after being dragged all the way to the Lucifer Empire and having her left arm severed, Octavia believed the Admiral would come to save her.

But he never appeared.

He didn’t even show up after her execution.

It seemed she believed in him until the very moment she died.

He had been the only one she thought was on her side.

For some reason, my chest felt tight, as if something were clogging it.

I couldn’t tell what this lingering emotion was—something worn away long ago, leaving only a faint trace behind.

‘From Octavia’s perspective, it’s probably better that she never found out the one person she trusted actually disliked her.’

As for me, it was better that I did know.

But just because the Admiral was a dangerous figure in the original story didn’t mean I’d turn down such an overwhelmingly advantageous opportunity.

As a self-proclaimed trash collector of ill-favor, I was even willing to check into a mental institution with him if it came to that.

Dressed in his uniform, Admiral Kelsedny sat at his desk, reading an investigative report on the Ludovisi family.

Standing upright across from him was Brigadier General Serkan, one of his aides.

“Your Excellency, are you considering commissioning magitech equipment?”

At the question, the Admiral silently shook his head.

Members of the imperial family had no need for dedicated weapons or auxiliary equipment like ability users did.

The ability users they commanded served as both their weapons and armor.

However, since the Admiral kept no such subordinates, the question had been asked just in case.

His gaze rested on the Ludovisi family report—more precisely, on Octavia’s name.

“Octavia Ludovisi – No transmutation ability, a non-ability ordinary individual.
Family: father and two older brothers.”

There was nothing particularly noteworthy.

She had graduated from the Royal Academy with excellent grades; caused a string of noble businesses to collapse by exposing critical defects; monopolized the distribution of materials essential to the upper class, earning the resentment of merchant nobles; been banned from entering the cathedral for insulting a priest; had her access to the royal palace restricted for insulting Prince Dominique; deliberately caused a five-car collision against someone who provoked her; and committed arson at her own estate.

‘Ordinary.’

Then why had his body and mind begun acting out of sync because of that woman?

There was no way she possessed any special ability capable of affecting an imperial royal.

Her reason for approaching him, however, was obvious.

“There were talks of an engagement with Prince Dominique, but it was called off due to a change of heart on the prince’s side.”

‘Is she still hung up on the prince, trying to use me to provoke his jealousy?’

Normally, it wouldn’t even be worth his attention—but for some reason, it irritated him.

Even this act of reviewing the report was due to a secret order from the Emperor of the Lucifer Empire, Arsenot the Great.

“I’ve taken quite an interest in the Ludovisi family. While you’re recuperating in the kingdom, I want you to observe their daughter up close.”

He couldn’t understand why his elder brother, Emperor Arsenot, was interested in Octavia—a mere non-ability user.

Given the man’s madness—conducting human experiments and hunting prisoners of war—it certainly wasn’t for any ordinary reason.

Knock, knock.

At that moment, a visitor arrived.

It was Count Hertain, the same man who had been doused with alcohol by the Admiral at the previous banquet.

“Your Excellency, I would like to propose a different set of terms this time.”

Despite the humiliation he had suffered, the Count had not given up.

For the sake of entering the Empire and gaining power—something all nobles of the kingdom dreamed of—he was the kind of sycophant who would lick the Admiral’s boots if necessary.

Through a bribed laundry maid, he had even obtained valuable information: lipstick stains had been found on the Admiral’s bedding.

‘Yes… I approached this from too conservative a perspective. The Admiral is a man in his prime—there’s no way he has no interest in women.’

It was said that imperial royals, as transcendent beings, were not bound by base desires.

But considering the former emperor, who had countless consorts, there had to be at least some interest in the opposite sex.

And with a man of such peerless beauty, how could those around him simply leave him alone?

The Admiral was a man of principles and order.

The immaculate dignity of a ruler was, after all, a matter of self-satisfaction.

He had no need to impress others or display authority.

Yet today, he looked unusually disheveled.

A loosened tie, slightly tousled black hair—even his indifferent gaze carried a sensual air.

The Count steadied his breathing as he looked at him.

The oppressive aura unique to imperial royalty made it difficult for most people to even meet his eyes.

“Your Excellency, how can a conversation between men be complete without drink and entertainment? Allow me to properly host you tonight. There is a patron gathering called the Night Society—full of beauties, and discretion is absolutely guaran—”

The Admiral rose from his seat, removing his wristwatch.

At the subtle gesture beckoning him closer, the Count approached, filled with anticipation and fear.

Then—

Without warning, a fist flew.

Bang—!

With a tremendous crash, the Count’s body was sent flying, smashing into the wall, which crumbled apart.

Only because he was an ability user did he survive—an ordinary person would have died instantly.

Tilting his head slightly as he looked at the Count slumped in the hole in the wall, the Admiral muttered:

‘Perfectly normal.’

There had been no restriction on pouring alcohol or using force.

Letting out a sigh as he looked up at the ceiling, he reflected.

He hadn’t intended to use that much force—but why, then, had he been unable to even lightly push Octavia away?

The Count, now an unwilling test subject, raised his head, blood trickling from his nose.

“Th-then… do you prefer men? If you tell me your exact tastes, I—”

The Admiral wiped his hands with a handkerchief and lifted his chin elegantly.

“Premarital chastity.”

“Ah! Then I’ll prepare pure, untouched young men—”

“No. I meant me.”

Was he saying that he himself practiced premarital chastity?

The Count blinked in confusion. It was difficult to grasp the intentions of a powerful man who spoke so vaguely.

“Remove him.”

At the Admiral’s flat command, the waiting subordinates carried the Count away.

Having witnessed their superior’s madness more than once, Brigadier General Serkan remained composed, with no intention of questioning or understanding.

Sitting back down, the Admiral rested his chin on his hand and stared at the broken wall for a long time.

From what had just happened, he was certain—there was no issue with expressing himself.

He had even been able to communicate verbally with Octavia.

“Get lost. It was a mistake.”

Speaking informally was one of the rare ways he expressed anger and contempt without resorting to profanity.

Though he believed it to be the harshest thing he could say, Octavia had shown no reaction at all.

Even though he had restrained his aura because she was a non-ability user, the oppressive presence of an imperial royal had not affected her.

‘What on earth is she?’

As he recalled her innocent violet eyes and slightly parted, moist lips, his gaze narrowed.

Soon, disgust filled his black eyes tinged with gold.

An indescribably vulgar memory flickered through his mind.

‘It feels like… something happened that night.’

Unease began to turn into certainty.

The sensation of grasping her unusually slender wrist, adorned with a violet bracelet, lingered vividly.

‘Is it a real memory… or just my mind being influenced by what she said…?’

Watching the Admiral run a hand through his hair, Serkan asked:

“Your Excellency, have you decided to cut back on drinking?”

Since the man who used to drink heavily every day hadn’t touched even a light aperitif since the banquet, Serkan assumed this strange behavior was withdrawal.

“Brigadier General Serkan.”

After a moment of thought, the Admiral called out to him.

“Yes, Your Excellency.”

The Admiral handed him a document.

“Observe her for a few days and report back to me.”

Seeing Octavia Ludovisi’s name in the document, Serkan asked respectfully:

“What aspects should I focus on?”

In truth, nearly all available information about her was already in the report—except perhaps trivial things like her ideal type.

“Everything. Discreetly.”

Serkan’s calm golden eyes settled on Octavia’s photograph.

‘Has she done something suspicious enough to warrant surveillance?’

After all, she was known as the kingdom’s greatest evil and its standard of beauty—the infamous problem child of the Ludovisi family.

The Admiral, arms crossed, staring into space, added belatedly:

“There’s something I need to confirm.”

If he had truly slept with her, there was no way he wouldn’t remember it.

That was why he had been certain it wasn’t true—but…

The subconscious restraint he felt, almost like a protective instinct, made no sense no matter how he thought about it.

From losing his memory due to drunkenness—something incomprehensible for a royal—to everything else, nothing added up.

So he decided he needed to watch her.

‘If it’s true, I’ll take responsibility. If it’s false, she will.’

For imperial royals, primal desires and emotions were merely tools for producing heirs and maintaining control, governed by strict principles and order.

Kelsedny Descartes held a firm belief:

He would only share a bed with the person he intended to marry.

This belief was heavily influenced by his father, who had been unfaithful in marriage.

Though compared to his younger self—who had once thought he must marry the first person he ever held hands with—he had become somewhat more flexible.

His gaze returned to the section of the report evaluating Octavia’s character.

“Lost her mother at a young age and raised in neglect, resulting in a self-centered and authoritarian personality.
Isolated not only in high society but also within her own family.
Expelled from the main Ludovisi house after being stripped of management rights and financial support; currently residing in seclusion under her uncle, Baron Ravisi.”

Even if the woman was a complete disaster—committing the worst crimes and avoided by everyone—

His principles would not change.

The problem was that those principles left only two options:

Either take responsibility through marriage…

Or eliminate the problem entirely.