Previously
Evgenia learns from Anne that Duke Basilian has confined her to her room and traveled north to find a husband for her. Realizing that Richard, the future villain, is currently imprisoned in her annex, Evgenia sneaks out of her window using a rope to reach him.
Having spent his entire life as a slave while concealing the secret of his birth, Richard was an emotionally hollow character who had grown deeply twisted.
Meeting Melissa had marked the very first time anyone showed him genuine care.
Perhaps that was precious to him, even if it had only been pity.
After escaping from the annex before Evgenia's wedding and eventually seizing control of the underworld, Richard laid bare his thirst for vengeance and his obsession with Melissa.
It had been a dark, grim path. He hadn't hesitated to kidnap or imprison her.
I had always been drawn toward gentle men, so Richard never appealed to me. Even so, he had a massive following.
In reality, he was the dangerous sort best avoided, but on the page, his tragic past and obsessive traits seemed undeniably appealing to some.
( ‘What really matters, though, is how Melissa felt…’ )
Even Melissa, who had pitied him, clung to him in tears, begging to be returned to the Duke's estate once he locked her away.
And that was despite the wretched state Evgenia had brought upon House Basilia at the time.
Seeing that scene had left me with an odd sense of unease.
Even though I expected the heroine wouldn't succumb to ruin, and knew the Crown Prince would eventually arrive to rescue her, it had still unnerved me.
Perhaps because of those memories, a bitter taste lingered on my tongue now that I knew Melissa had already shown kindness to Richard.
If only I had possessed this body a little sooner, he would never have been brought from the black market, and even if he were rescued, I wouldn't have let him meet Melissa.
With a soft sigh, I hurried down to the basement, feeling I had no more time to lose.
Unlike Melissa, who had snuck in, I was the mistress of this annex; I had no need for caution.
I strode confidently into the dungeon, the tap of my heels echoing through the space as the damp, musty stench and the distinctive subterranean chill closed in around me.
I was already shivering, but the eerie atmosphere made my entire body stiffen. Then, almost on instinct, I stopped.
“..!“
Our eyes met. Richard’s doll-like gaze was fixed squarely on my face.
Correction.
Richard’s massive fanbase wasn't just because his backstory garnered sympathy or because obsessive men were popular.
( ‘He has the exact look of an idol.’ )
From his delicate frame to fair skin that gleamed despite the lack of proper washing, soft pink hair, and stunning doe-like features!
Reading about him in text hadn't fully sold it, but seeing him in the flesh made all the difference.
Taking in Richard in person, I found myself marveling at an allure capable of captivating anyone with ease.
( ‘Of course, my heart only beats for Euclid.’ )
Euclid’s appearance had hardly received any description, but external looks weren't all that mattered to me.
( ‘Ah… just the thought of meeting my favorite in person already sets my heart racing.’ )
Barely managing to soothe my unexpectedly racing fan’s heart, I began to study Richard slowly.
Slumped limply against the wall, his eyes open from Melissa’s recent visit, Richard looked listless.
His expression remained blank, but his wide eyes betrayed a faint hint of surprise.
Clink.
Then, with a grating scrape, Richard pushed himself up and approached the bars.
As I idly searched for the source of the noise, I noticed the shackles around his ankles.
They were chained to the wall, and nearby, the items Melissa had presumably left behind lay right outside the cell.
After confirming that the bread and medicine appeared to have been smuggled from the kitchen, I lifted my gaze once more.
Unlike earlier, when I had been looking down, Richard's upright posture now brought his face level with mine.
At that moment, my brow furrowed.
His red eyes, which had looked lovely from afar, now stirred an inexplicable sense of aversion up close…
No, it was far more than mere revulsion.
The thought of the Crown Prince—the man whose eye color she adored so much that she claimed to have bought Richard as a slave just to match it—suddenly filled me with intense disgust.
Even if Richard wasn't my type, I still felt for his past and harbored no particular malice toward him.
( ‘Yet it feels like I'm confronting a sworn enemy… Ah!’ )
I paused, catching Richard's intent gaze fixed upon me.
In the quiet night, I remembered why I had crept down here, defying even the Duke’s orders.
( ‘Thank goodness. At least Evgenia hasn't gouged out one of Richard's eyes yet.’ )
I had worried I might miss the chance to stop her in time.
Yes, that was it. That deranged Evgenia was supposed to blind him in one eye soon enough.
I couldn't tell whether she simply craved red eyes like the Crown Prince's or whether she couldn't contain the bizarre rage consuming her. The only clue was the fury I imagined boiling inside her upon hearing of Kayden's marriage proposal to Melissa, or perhaps even the rumors of his forced engagement to another woman.
Regardless of the rigid class system, and despite Richard's status as a slave, how could anyone starve another person and then go so far as to mutilate him?
Evgenia’s cruelty twisted my face in disgust. Perhaps it was that very wickedness—the villainess herself—that stirred the unease deep within me.
I had rushed here to sever this ill-fated tie with Richard, determined to secure a bright future, yet guilt—and even shame—gnawed at me.
I had to shoulder all of Evgenia’s sins now.
Only then would I be able to see my beloved and seize my marital fortune.
I brushed aside the last traces of lingering resentment.
Under the weight of these thoughts, the sharp spike of emotion I had felt when first meeting Richard's eyes subsided.
Just as I parted my lips to speak, relieved, an unexpectedly soft voice reached my ears.
The tender tone caught me off guard.
Richard murmured in an emotionless voice, tilting his head slightly as though questioning if this were real.
His reaction left me a little disoriented.
Frankly, I had expected him to bristle with hostility the moment he laid eyes on me.
After all, I was the woman who had bought him as a slave and locked him away in this subterranean cell. He had every reason to loathe me more than anyone.
Yet he didn't.
In fact, his blank expression seemed to carry hints of relief and concern… if that even made sense.
‘Ha!’ That was impossible.
I scoffed at the absurd thought.
Yet no matter how hard I tried to brush it off, there wasn't a trace of enmity or fear in his steady gaze.
And that wasn't the only thing out of place.
I dropped my eyes to the items Melissa had brought earlier.
There they sat, out in the open without the slightest attempt to hide them, rather than tucked inside the cell. And judging by what Richard had said just moments ago…
He hadn't seemed to anticipate that I wouldn't show up. Either way, he hadn't even tried to conceal the fact that someone else had stepped into his cell.
Why? He surely knew he wasn't supposed to receive food without my permission.
Seeing someone bring him meals and medicine—he knew full well it would send me into a fury.
Melissa could easily have suffered for disobeying my orders, yet he acted with complete indifference.
Curiosity piqued, I began to inspect Richard carefully, from head to toe.
Though somewhat disheveled, his condition didn't appear utterly terrible.
I briefly wondered if he hadn't been beaten after all, but that relief was short-lived.
“…!“
I caught sight of the scars running along the back of Richard’s left hand down to his wrist, and my breath hitched.
Could I even call this a mere “scar”?
It looked like a burn mark, likely from something searing pressed repeatedly against his skin…
Clenching my fists, I stared at his hand, knowing those scars would likely remain forever.
Faced with that, any further questions felt entirely meaningless.
I immediately pulled out the key I had brought and unlocked the iron door.
A faint crack broke Richard’s expression as he watched me in astonishment.
At my command, Richard hesitated before slowly stepping out of the cell.
The moment he stood before me, I held up the ring of keys I had just used to unlock the door… Clatter!
( ‘Ah, I meant to hand them over gently!’ )
Perhaps because I had just climbed down from my room by a rope, my hand had lost its grip, and I dropped the keys.
As they struck the ground with a loud ring, I swallowed nervously, feeling Richard's curious gaze on my face.
“…“
The silence that settled felt colder than when the keys had hit the floor.
I blinked, and before I knew why, I gasped.
What had I just done? Did I look like a villainess again?