Chapter 1
“You were said to have been very enthusiastic about this engagement,” Rafael said coldly as he slid a ring onto Louisa’s ring finger.
His icy blue eyes darted to her hand, then shifted downward to the figure who kept her head slightly bowed before him.
“Sorry, but I made a vow to devote myself to God. I have no intention of marrying,” Louisa replied firmly.
“…Yes,” Rafael replied stiffly. Louisa’s shoulders tensed, and she responded a beat late.
“Since this engagement is bound to be broken, I hope we’ll at least save our strength and not make a fuss.”
It was a dismal exchange—the kind you’d expect from strangers exchanging rings in pristine formal attire, not betrothed.
(Did he just get hurt feelings?) Rafael stared down at Louisa’s silent head, then looked away with a slight irritation.
(Hmph—why did I even go and make a fuss. This is turning into a mess.)
Any residual guilt evaporated instantly. He stepped back, eyes flashing with annoyance—clearly longing to avoid any future entanglements.
(I’ll have to worry about her tripping me up from now on.)
No sooner had their hands parted than the applause erupted.
“Congratulations on your engagement!”
“This must be the engagement of the century!”
“If it weren’t for etiquette, we’d just get married right now!”
While nobles and diplomats jostled for congratulatory words, the Emperor turned to Duke Blake with a friendly grin:
“It’s a pity it can’t be a wedding, but what a wonderful engagement.”
Duke Rafael didn’t reply, simply nodding curtly in his usual stoic way. The Emperor seemed pleased, and his reaction prompted the royalist nobles behind him to speak up.
“If the couple are well matched, marriage is only a matter of time!”
This was exactly the moment everyone had waited for. The alliance of Prince Rafael Arillius, the First Prince, with Louisa Blake, the Duke’s second daughter, was a union between the royal faction and the long-neutral Blake house—an exceedingly joyous event for the Emperor, who had long sought this strategic alignment.
The ceremony was carried out as though it were no less momentous than a royal wedding—at once pompous and jubilant.
Everyone except the two protagonists beamed with delight. Yet the one who appeared most out of place was the bride-to-be.
*(Oops, drifted off…) *
Louisa had been drowsy ever since early morning. The soft timbre of the officiant reading the vows had nearly sent her to sleep—only Rafael’s act of placing the ring on her finger had snapped her alert.
(He said something to me— I didn’t hear a word of it. Ah, well, not important.)
After all, this marriage was doomed to fail; surely, there was nothing meaningful he might’ve said.
Louisa felt only weary impatience and wished to be home sleeping, stifling one stifled yawn after another behind her hand.
She had no suspicion that Rafael misread her yawn as tears of hurt.
Later, at home…
“Ahh, my eyes are going to pop out,” Louisa groaned as she collapsed onto her bed. Mary looked on in alarm.
“Miss! You must wash up and lie down.”
“Ugh, too much trouble…”
Mary, unfazed, hauled her up like a little sloth in need of grooming. Resting one arm over her shoulder, she supported Louisa at the waist as they headed to the bath.
“I lined the bath with rose petals. You won’t want to leave once you soak.”
Louisa, half-awake, closed her eyes and let Mary steer her toward the bathroom.
Peeking at Louisa’s drowsy profile, Mary couldn’t help but smile.
Louisa slumped at the tub’s edge with a contented hum.
(Ooohh… nice.)
“Miss… again…” Mary muttered.
Louisa, finding Mary’s protests amusing, chuckled softly.
“I’m so happy you’re engaged to the one you like.”
“Is that so?”
Mary gave a knowing smile.
“His Highness must know how long you’ve adored him.”
“Well, I don’t think he was really aware…”
Louisa trailed off, and Mary only sighed.
“…Don’t be blue, Miss. His Highness just hasn’t realized your charm yet! Once he spends time with you, he’ll fall head over heels!”
“I’m not upset.”
“Miss… you used to cry over the slightest ache. Why are you so stoic now? You don’t have to hide your feelings.”
Louisa started to respond, then stopped herself. A misunderstanding didn’t merit any effort.
“Fine. Look—I just want to rest. You go on.”
“If you need me, I’ll be right here.”
Mary took Louisa’s motion to mean she was hurt and retreated quietly with tears in her eyes.
Louisa felt the warm bath relax her muscles and thought of Rafael.
(He is handsome—characteristically a male lead.)
A graceful prince with pale platinum hair and deep blue eyes—he radiated the aura of a holy knight.
(He fits the image perfectly. And yet, he claimed that when he meets the heroine, he’ll compete for the position of Archbishop, maybe even contend with the Crown Prince…)
She never imagined she’d be the fiancée of such a beauty—even more, that she’d actually inhabit the character of an in-universe villainess.
Before, she was just a pitiful woman worn out by trying to earn recognition, until she eventually died and gave up.
(How foolish. Died in my twenties from overwork…)
Her so-called family didn’t mourn her death; they just took the insurance money they could.
From the moment she was born, they favored her siblings—perhaps she even existed just to serve as the maid for her degenerate brother.
Though random, the memory of her most devastated day came back—sitting at home bored on a family outing day, picking at snack crumbs in her brother’s room, when the fragrance of fatty meat drifted in and made her stomach ache with hunger.
She resented the favoritism; yet she didn’t expect they were not just treating her badly, but actually enjoying themselves at her expense.
(Seriously, just FIGHT over it already—you’ll be dead before you know it anyway. It’s pathetic.)
The verbal and physical abuse shut down her heart, and she lived by escaping into daydreams.
(I should’ve canceled all the insurance policies… It’s not a lot of money, but still…)
If only the money bought no one else lived—or so she mused.
Soon, she splashed her face with hot water, washing away bitter thoughts and regaining composure.
She’d been fighting to survive. At the moment she nearly died, she felt too exhausted even to live—but now she had another chance.
(Okay, if this is my second life, finally, let me relax. But why is it as a villainess? And I can’t even recall the novel’s name…)
She sighed softly.
It had been a month since she woke up in this body.
Though in reality her mind was still reeling, she knew one thing for sure from the start: she was inside a reverse-harem novel and she was Louisa—the villainess destined to be envied by the heroine, Bella.
(At least I remember the story. Otherwise, I’d be completely lost.)
