Chapter 63:
The engagement ceremony ended in great success.
As soon as Layla returned to the mansion, she felt like she could collapse from exhaustion.
Knock knock.
“Come in.”
At her words, Catherine came to her side and handed her a sheet of paper.
“Who sent this?”
“This is from His Highness the Crown Prince. All the congratulatory letters are placed in the next room, along with the gifts.”
“I see.”
It was customary for friends to send congratulatory gifts for engagements separately. Layla had no friends to speak of, yet somehow, gifts had arrived.
“Thank you.”
“I’ll help you bathe.”
“Can we wait ten minutes? I just want to rest a little.”
“Yes, my lady. I’ll at least loosen your clothes for you.”
“Mm, thank you.”
Catherine looked worried as she watched Layla lie down on the bed still wearing her tightened corset. Without even realizing it, she had started caring for Layla.
“I wish you were my mother, Catherine.”
Layla said that on purpose, knowing the way Catherine looked at her. She might be her stepmother’s servant, but right now, she seemed genuinely concerned.
“How can you say such a thing?”
“It just crossed my mind during the engagement ceremony.”
“Were you… sad?”
“No, I was really happy about the engagement.”
Layla noticed Catherine’s hands slow as she undressed her, so she let out a soft, deflating laugh.
“I thought I wouldn’t be lonely anymore now that I’m engaged to Sonnet.”
“…”
“But I keep feeling lonely because I don’t have a mother.”
“My lady…”
“I’m so greedy, aren’t I?”
When she lay face-down on the bed, Catherine paused her movements and spoke.
“My lady, I… can’t be that kind of person for you.”
Layla turned to look at her. Catherine’s eyes were glistening red.
“I belong to the countess.”
“I know. Of course, since my stepmother sent you.”
Layla smiled sadly.
“But I’m still so glad you’re my maid, Catherine. So I’ll just pretend not to know.”
At that, Catherine started to cry.
“Why are you so foolish, my lady?”
“I don’t know. Maybe because you feel like a mother to me. I’m sorry.”
Wiping her eyes roughly with the back of her hand, Catherine said,
“From now on, trust no one. All the servants here belong to the countess, not just me.”
“Okay.”
Layla knew Catherine might say she belonged to the countess, but in truth, she was someone who cared about her.
That night, perhaps from all the tension, her whole body ached.
Layla woke up in the middle of the night from the throbbing pain. Thinking a trip to the restroom might help, she got out of bed and walked.
Her feet ached from wearing high heels all day at the engagement, and her calves felt like they were splitting into three.
“Mother of—!”
Layla screamed when she saw a dark shadow on the carpet.
“…Oh my.”
Looking closer, the black thing turned out to be a ladybug.
“How did you get in here…?”
The moment she spoke, the ladybug buzzed and flew away.
Following it with her eyes, Layla realized—
“Rain…?”
Rainier had appeared. He must have come because she was startled by the bug.
“You said you show up when I cry.”
But Rainier had his back to her, not looking at her.
The ladybug landed on the terrace door. Layla sighed, opened the door, and let it fly out. She shut the door tightly so no more bugs could get in and walked toward Rainier. He turned away from her again, showing her his back.
“Rain? I’m fine. You can go now.”
“Yes.”
His voice sounded strangely wet, and she was surprised.
When he started to leave without looking up, she instinctively grabbed his sleeve.
“Let go.”
“If you hate it, you can shake me off.”
She said this, looking at the man caught in her weak grip.
“What if I shake you off too hard and you fall? You’re already too weak to run.”
“Are you crying?”
Her certainty grew as he stayed silent.
Layla tightened her grip on his sleeve and tried to pull him.
“I’m pulling you. Come here.”
“Do I have to come just because you call me?”
“You might dislocate your wrist if I keep pulling.”
At her words, he let himself be dragged over. Layla stood in front of him, looking up.
“You said you’re over 197 centimeters, right?”
“Yes.”
“That’s almost a whole head taller than me. You know that?”
“…Yes.”
He answered reluctantly, still covering his face with his hand. She stared persistently.
“Why are you crying?”
No answer.
“It’s not because I got engaged, is it?”
“Isn’t it?”
At his reply, his hand dropped from his face, and their eyes met.
“Oh my.”
“Don’t look.”
Even in the dark, she could tell he had been crying. His eyes were swollen, but still beautiful—just marked with too many traces of tears.
“You said you don’t like me.”
“Yes, I hate you very much.”
“You said you don’t lie.”
“…”
“You might omit things, but you don’t lie—remember?”
“Yes. I don’t lie.”
He sighed under her questioning gaze, and she pulled him toward her bed. He let himself be dragged, perhaps afraid she might actually get hurt if she strained herself.
“You’re fine being alone in a bedroom with a man?”
“You said you’re not just any man—you’re my doctor.”
“…”
“Liar.”
She sat him down and let go of his sleeve.
“What are you doing?”
He grabbed her hand and made her sit too.
“Why did you let go without permission?”
“So I can reduce the swelling in your eyes.”
“…”
“You’ll let go now, right?”
He released her hand.
Layla walked to the water jar, soaked a clean cloth, wrung it out, and brought it back. She placed it gently over his eyes.
“You’re the worst.”
“I can be a little bad.”
“You shouldn’t treat me this kindly.”
“Is it kindness? Or am I just trying to stay on my lifeline’s good side?”
At that, his tears suddenly grew heavier.
“Why don’t you make any sound when you cry, Rain?”
“Would it make me look pitiful if I did?”
“No.”
He gave a small, self-deprecating laugh at her reply, and she sighed unconsciously.
“You got your revenge on Hugo. In the end, Eclair went down too, and we got it.”
“…Yes.”
“And with Sonnet… doesn’t this mean you’ve gotten revenge too?”
She remembered him asking her to partner up to get back at both of them.
“My first kiss was with you, Rain.”
“And mine was with you, Lady Layla.”
She dabbed at his eyes, then removed the cloth. The swelling had gone down a little, restoring his usual neat, handsome look—though he still shed silent tears whenever their eyes met.
“If you cry this much, you’ll get dehydrated.”
“You changed the subject first, but now you’re accusing me of it.”
He smiled faintly, as if seeing right through her, though the tears still fell freely.
“Are you that upset I’m engaged to Sonnet?”
“Yes.”
“…Oh… really?”
She had expected him to deny it, so his agreement startled her.
“Why?”
“Because I hate you so much.”
“Oh, I see.”
Her heart had skipped for a moment, but she forced the feeling away.
“So you hate me now?”
“No.”
“You just said you did.”
“I hate the me who says hurtful things to you.”
His words made no sense, and she sighed again.
“Rain… do you like me but just don’t want to admit it?”
“…No.”
“Then why cry about my engagement?”
For some reason, her heart was racing. Maybe because they had kissed several times before, his lips looked strangely tempting.
“If you can be happy, I’m fine with anything.”
It didn’t sound like a lie—he was still crying.
“That’s why I’m here by your side. I truly want you to be happy.”
She was left speechless, staring at him.
“I’ll say this only once, so don’t forget it.”
Her gaze was drawn, as if bewitched, into his crimson eyes.
“I became a doctor, and came to the Avierre mansion… all so I could meet you.”
Here’s the complete English translation of “I Don’t Need the Trashy Male Lead” – Chapter 63:
The engagement ceremony ended in great success.
As soon as Layla returned to the mansion, she felt like she could collapse from exhaustion.
Knock knock.
“Come in.”
At her words, Catherine came to her side and handed her a sheet of paper.
“Who sent this?”
“This is from His Highness the Crown Prince. All the congratulatory letters are placed in the next room, along with the gifts.”
“I see.”
It was customary for friends to send congratulatory gifts for engagements separately. Layla had no friends to speak of, yet somehow, gifts had arrived.
“Thank you.”
“I’ll help you bathe.”
“Can we wait ten minutes? I just want to rest a little.”
“Yes, my lady. I’ll at least loosen your clothes for you.”
“Mm, thank you.”
Catherine looked worried as she watched Layla lie down on the bed still wearing her tightened corset. Without even realizing it, she had started caring for Layla.
“I wish you were my mother, Catherine.”
Layla said that on purpose, knowing the way Catherine looked at her. She might be her stepmother’s servant, but right now, she seemed genuinely concerned.
“How can you say such a thing?”
“It just crossed my mind during the engagement ceremony.”
“Were you… sad?”
“No, I was really happy about the engagement.”
Layla noticed Catherine’s hands slow as she undressed her, so she let out a soft, deflating laugh.
“I thought I wouldn’t be lonely anymore now that I’m engaged to Sonnet.”
“…”
“But I keep feeling lonely because I don’t have a mother.”
“My lady…”
“I’m so greedy, aren’t I?”
When she lay face-down on the bed, Catherine paused her movements and spoke.
“My lady, I… can’t be that kind of person for you.”
Layla turned to look at her. Catherine’s eyes were glistening red.
“I belong to the countess.”
“I know. Of course, since my stepmother sent you.”
Layla smiled sadly.
“But I’m still so glad you’re my maid, Catherine. So I’ll just pretend not to know.”
At that, Catherine started to cry.
“Why are you so foolish, my lady?”
“I don’t know. Maybe because you feel like a mother to me. I’m sorry.”
Wiping her eyes roughly with the back of her hand, Catherine said,
“From now on, trust no one. All the servants here belong to the countess, not just me.”
“Okay.”
Layla knew Catherine might say she belonged to the countess, but in truth, she was someone who cared about her.
That night, perhaps from all the tension, her whole body ached.
Layla woke up in the middle of the night from the throbbing pain. Thinking a trip to the restroom might help, she got out of bed and walked.
Her feet ached from wearing high heels all day at the engagement, and her calves felt like they were splitting into three.
“Mother of—!”
Layla screamed when she saw a dark shadow on the carpet.
“…Oh my.”
Looking closer, the black thing turned out to be a ladybug.
“How did you get in here…?”
The moment she spoke, the ladybug buzzed and flew away.
Following it with her eyes, Layla realized—
“Rain…?”
Rainier had appeared. He must have come because she was startled by the bug.
“You said you show up when I cry.”
But Rainier had his back to her, not looking at her.
The ladybug landed on the terrace door. Layla sighed, opened the door, and let it fly out. She shut the door tightly so no more bugs could get in and walked toward Rainier. He turned away from her again, showing her his back.
“Rain? I’m fine. You can go now.”
“Yes.”
His voice sounded strangely wet, and she was surprised.
When he started to leave without looking up, she instinctively grabbed his sleeve.
“Let go.”
“If you hate it, you can shake me off.”
She said this, looking at the man caught in her weak grip.
“What if I shake you off too hard and you fall? You’re already too weak to run.”
“Are you crying?”
Her certainty grew as he stayed silent.
Layla tightened her grip on his sleeve and tried to pull him.
“I’m pulling you. Come here.”
“Do I have to come just because you call me?”
“You might dislocate your wrist if I keep pulling.”
At her words, he let himself be dragged over. Layla stood in front of him, looking up.
“You said you’re over 197 centimeters, right?”
“Yes.”
“That’s almost a whole head taller than me. You know that?”
“…Yes.”
He answered reluctantly, still covering his face with his hand. She stared persistently.
“Why are you crying?”
No answer.
“It’s not because I got engaged, is it?”
“Isn’t it?”
At his reply, his hand dropped from his face, and their eyes met.
“Oh my.”
“Don’t look.”
Even in the dark, she could tell he had been crying. His eyes were swollen, but still beautiful—just marked with too many traces of tears.
“You said you don’t like me.”
“Yes, I hate you very much.”
“You said you don’t lie.”
“…”
“You might omit things, but you don’t lie—remember?”
“Yes. I don’t lie.”
He sighed under her questioning gaze, and she pulled him toward her bed. He let himself be dragged, perhaps afraid she might actually get hurt if she strained herself.
“You’re fine being alone in a bedroom with a man?”
“You said you’re not just any man—you’re my doctor.”
“…”
“Liar.”
She sat him down and let go of his sleeve.
“What are you doing?”
He grabbed her hand and made her sit too.
“Why did you let go without permission?”
“So I can reduce the swelling in your eyes.”
“…”
“You’ll let go now, right?”
He released her hand.
Layla walked to the water jar, soaked a clean cloth, wrung it out, and brought it back. She placed it gently over his eyes.
“You’re the worst.”
“I can be a little bad.”
“You shouldn’t treat me this kindly.”
“Is it kindness? Or am I just trying to stay on my lifeline’s good side?”
At that, his tears suddenly grew heavier.
“Why don’t you make any sound when you cry, Rain?”
“Would it make me look pitiful if I did?”
“No.”
He gave a small, self-deprecating laugh at her reply, and she sighed unconsciously.
“You got your revenge on Hugo. In the end, Eclair went down too, and we got it.”
“…Yes.”
“And with Sonnet… doesn’t this mean you’ve gotten revenge too?”
She remembered him asking her to partner up to get back at both of them.
“My first kiss was with you, Rain.”
“And mine was with you, Lady Layla.”
She dabbed at his eyes, then removed the cloth. The swelling had gone down a little, restoring his usual neat, handsome look—though he still shed silent tears whenever their eyes met.
“If you cry this much, you’ll get dehydrated.”
“You changed the subject first, but now you’re accusing me of it.”
He smiled faintly, as if seeing right through her, though the tears still fell freely.
“Are you that upset I’m engaged to Sonnet?”
“Yes.”
“…Oh… really?”
She had expected him to deny it, so his agreement startled her.
“Why?”
“Because I hate you so much.”
“Oh, I see.”
Her heart had skipped for a moment, but she forced the feeling away.
“So you hate me now?”
“No.”
“You just said you did.”
“I hate the me who says hurtful things to you.”
His words made no sense, and she sighed again.
“Rain… do you like me but just don’t want to admit it?”
“…No.”
“Then why cry about my engagement?”
For some reason, her heart was racing. Maybe because they had kissed several times before, his lips looked strangely tempting.
“If you can be happy, I’m fine with anything.”
It didn’t sound like a lie—he was still crying.
“That’s why I’m here by your side. I truly want you to be happy.”
She was left speechless, staring at him.
“I’ll say this only once, so don’t forget it.”
Her gaze was drawn, as if bewitched, into his crimson eyes.
“I became a doctor, and came to the Avierre mansion… all so I could meet you.”
Here’s the complete English translation of “I Don’t Need the Trashy Male Lead” – Chapter 63:
The engagement ceremony ended in great success.
As soon as Layla returned to the mansion, she felt like she could collapse from exhaustion.
Knock knock.
“Come in.”
At her words, Catherine came to her side and handed her a sheet of paper.
“Who sent this?”
“This is from His Highness the Crown Prince. All the congratulatory letters are placed in the next room, along with the gifts.”
“I see.”
It was customary for friends to send congratulatory gifts for engagements separately. Layla had no friends to speak of, yet somehow, gifts had arrived.
“Thank you.”
“I’ll help you bathe.”
“Can we wait ten minutes? I just want to rest a little.”
“Yes, my lady. I’ll at least loosen your clothes for you.”
“Mm, thank you.”
Catherine looked worried as she watched Layla lie down on the bed still wearing her tightened corset. Without even realizing it, she had started caring for Layla.
“I wish you were my mother, Catherine.”
Layla said that on purpose, knowing the way Catherine looked at her. She might be her stepmother’s servant, but right now, she seemed genuinely concerned.
“How can you say such a thing?”
“It just crossed my mind during the engagement ceremony.”
“Were you… sad?”
“No, I was really happy about the engagement.”
Layla noticed Catherine’s hands slow as she undressed her, so she let out a soft, deflating laugh.
“I thought I wouldn’t be lonely anymore now that I’m engaged to Sonnet.”
“…”
“But I keep feeling lonely because I don’t have a mother.”
“My lady…”
“I’m so greedy, aren’t I?”
When she lay face-down on the bed, Catherine paused her movements and spoke.
“My lady, I… can’t be that kind of person for you.”
Layla turned to look at her. Catherine’s eyes were glistening red.
“I belong to the countess.”
“I know. Of course, since my stepmother sent you.”
Layla smiled sadly.
“But I’m still so glad you’re my maid, Catherine. So I’ll just pretend not to know.”
At that, Catherine started to cry.
“Why are you so foolish, my lady?”
“I don’t know. Maybe because you feel like a mother to me. I’m sorry.”
Wiping her eyes roughly with the back of her hand, Catherine said,
“From now on, trust no one. All the servants here belong to the countess, not just me.”
“Okay.”
Layla knew Catherine might say she belonged to the countess, but in truth, she was someone who cared about her.
That night, perhaps from all the tension, her whole body ached.
Layla woke up in the middle of the night from the throbbing pain. Thinking a trip to the restroom might help, she got out of bed and walked.
Her feet ached from wearing high heels all day at the engagement, and her calves felt like they were splitting into three.
“Mother of—!”
Layla screamed when she saw a dark shadow on the carpet.
“…Oh my.”
Looking closer, the black thing turned out to be a ladybug.
“How did you get in here…?”
The moment she spoke, the ladybug buzzed and flew away.
Following it with her eyes, Layla realized—
“Rain…?”
Rainier had appeared. He must have come because she was startled by the bug.
“You said you show up when I cry.”
But Rainier had his back to her, not looking at her.
The ladybug landed on the terrace door. Layla sighed, opened the door, and let it fly out. She shut the door tightly so no more bugs could get in and walked toward Rainier. He turned away from her again, showing her his back.
“Rain? I’m fine. You can go now.”
“Yes.”
His voice sounded strangely wet, and she was surprised.
When he started to leave without looking up, she instinctively grabbed his sleeve.
“Let go.”
“If you hate it, you can shake me off.”
She said this, looking at the man caught in her weak grip.
“What if I shake you off too hard and you fall? You’re already too weak to run.”
“Are you crying?”
Her certainty grew as he stayed silent.
Layla tightened her grip on his sleeve and tried to pull him.
“I’m pulling you. Come here.”
“Do I have to come just because you call me?”
“You might dislocate your wrist if I keep pulling.”
At her words, he let himself be dragged over. Layla stood in front of him, looking up.
“You said you’re over 197 centimeters, right?”
“Yes.”
“That’s almost a whole head taller than me. You know that?”
“…Yes.”
He answered reluctantly, still covering his face with his hand. She stared persistently.
“Why are you crying?”
No answer.
“It’s not because I got engaged, is it?”
“Isn’t it?”
At his reply, his hand dropped from his face, and their eyes met.
“Oh my.”
“Don’t look.”
Even in the dark, she could tell he had been crying. His eyes were swollen, but still beautiful—just marked with too many traces of tears.
“You said you don’t like me.”
“Yes, I hate you very much.”
“You said you don’t lie.”
“…”
“You might omit things, but you don’t lie—remember?”
“Yes. I don’t lie.”
He sighed under her questioning gaze, and she pulled him toward her bed. He let himself be dragged, perhaps afraid she might actually get hurt if she strained herself.
“You’re fine being alone in a bedroom with a man?”
“You said you’re not just any man—you’re my doctor.”
“…”
“Liar.”
She sat him down and let go of his sleeve.
“What are you doing?”
He grabbed her hand and made her sit too.
“Why did you let go without permission?”
“So I can reduce the swelling in your eyes.”
“…”
“You’ll let go now, right?”
He released her hand.
Layla walked to the water jar, soaked a clean cloth, wrung it out, and brought it back. She placed it gently over his eyes.
“You’re the worst.”
“I can be a little bad.”
“You shouldn’t treat me this kindly.”
“Is it kindness? Or am I just trying to stay on my lifeline’s good side?”
At that, his tears suddenly grew heavier.
“Why don’t you make any sound when you cry, Rain?”
“Would it make me look pitiful if I did?”
“No.”
He gave a small, self-deprecating laugh at her reply, and she sighed unconsciously.
“You got your revenge on Hugo. In the end, Eclair went down too, and we got it.”
“…Yes.”
“And with Sonnet… doesn’t this mean you’ve gotten revenge too?”
She remembered him asking her to partner up to get back at both of them.
“My first kiss was with you, Rain.”
“And mine was with you, Lady Layla.”
She dabbed at his eyes, then removed the cloth. The swelling had gone down a little, restoring his usual neat, handsome look—though he still shed silent tears whenever their eyes met.
“If you cry this much, you’ll get dehydrated.”
“You changed the subject first, but now you’re accusing me of it.”
He smiled faintly, as if seeing right through her, though the tears still fell freely.
“Are you that upset I’m engaged to Sonnet?”
“Yes.”
“…Oh… really?”
She had expected him to deny it, so his agreement startled her.
“Why?”
“Because I hate you so much.”
“Oh, I see.”
Her heart had skipped for a moment, but she forced the feeling away.
“So you hate me now?”
“No.”
“You just said you did.”
“I hate the me who says hurtful things to you.”
His words made no sense, and she sighed again.
“Rain… do you like me but just don’t want to admit it?”
“…No.”
“Then why cry about my engagement?”
For some reason, her heart was racing. Maybe because they had kissed several times before, his lips looked strangely tempting.
“If you can be happy, I’m fine with anything.”
It didn’t sound like a lie—he was still crying.
“That’s why I’m here by your side. I truly want you to be happy.”
She was left speechless, staring at him.
“I’ll say this only once, so don’t forget it.”
Her gaze was drawn, as if bewitched, into his crimson eyes.
“I became a doctor, and came to the Avierre mansion… all so I could meet you.”
It repeated 3 times