Chapter 3
Chapter 3
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 3
Chapter Title: The Villainess Meets Her Fiancé
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Laura Clarins was the black sheep of the Clarins Family.
It hadn't always been that way.
She had been born the eldest daughter, bright and clever from a young age.
And above all, her looks.
Even as a child, she had a face that drew every eye, earning praises of "baby angel" from all who saw her.
Rumors quickly spread that she would grow into the empire's greatest beauty.
And her father, Count Clarins, was immensely pleased by this.
He would stroke her like a precious gem and say,
"Keep growing just like that, my little treasure Laura. You'll become the empire's number one beauty one day. Understand?"
Young Laura didn't yet grasp what "beauty" meant, but since it was her father's words, she nodded obediently.
When Laura nodded, Count Clarins would rub her cheeks, and the little girl would giggle, complaining that his whiskers prickled.
Happy days when she was loved by everyone.
But the year Laura turned ten.
That was the day her fate changed.
"Oh? Miss? Your eyes..."
"Huh? What's wrong with my eyes?"
Her irises had suddenly turned a vivid purple.
More than that bewildering change, Laura herself transformed.
"The scissors are here, Nina."
"Thank you, Miss! But how did you know I was looking for them?"
"I just saw it. Like, 'where are the scissors?'"
"You saw it?"
She spoke of seeing the unseen,
and understood the unspoken.
At first, everyone just thought, Our miss really is smart, and let it pass. But as days went by, they all began to sense something off.
And it didn't take long for that unease to turn into dread.
Their young miss was truly "seeing" everything.
Even the secrets they'd kept buried deep in their hearts, unspoken to anyone.
The servants began to avoid her stealthily, whispering that a demon must have possessed their miss.
No, in truth, no one dared voice such blasphemy aloud.
Even if they felt dread, spreading bad rumors about the count's daughter would never end well if caught.
But Laura "saw" it.
And it shocked her deeply.
'Demon? Me?'
Young Laura couldn't comprehend it.
She had simply acted on what she saw and heard.
She'd never done anything wrong, never become some horrific demon.
Overwhelmed by surging grief, the little girl ran to her mother, tears streaming.
Her ever-kind and gentle mother, loving to all.
Startled by her sobbing daughter rushing in, she embraced her, soothing her as she asked what was wrong.
Laura soaked her mother's skirt with tears as she poured out the horrible things she'd heard.
And she waited for her mother to say it wasn't true, that she'd scold those who spoke such cruelty.
But for some reason, no matter how long she waited, her mother's voice never came.
At this bizarre silence, Laura stopped crying and peeked up—
and for the first time, saw her mother's face frozen stiff.
And from those firmly shut lips, she "saw" the words spilling out.
The secrets that followed from her mother were still beyond young Laura's understanding.
But beyond those secrets, the look in her mother's eyes—
held the same emotions she'd seen in the servants earlier.
From that day on, Laura was forbidden from wandering freely.
She had to spend her time confined to her room, meeting people there every day.
Priests, wizards, doctors, shamans.
Countless experts examined her and shook their heads.
"No traces of any curse."
"No magical reactions. It's not the effect of magic."
"The young lady is perfectly healthy. Doesn't seem like any illness."
"A pure child's soul. No evil spirits present."
And as she met these adults inspecting her,
day by day, seeing her father's face grow more troubled,
she finally realized.
What she "saw" was abnormal.
She was seeing things she shouldn't, and everyone recoiled from that fact.
And Laura despaired at this truth.
'No.'
Why should I be hated by everyone?
Why on earth—
'Ah.'
Because I see things I shouldn't.
Because I have these freakish eyes.
So, so—
If she could just stop "seeing," everything might return to how it was.
Back to those days when everyone was kind to her.
So Laura desperately tried to stop "seeing."
It was an incredibly difficult task.
How do you keep from looking while your eyes are open?
But she didn't give up.
She devoured any books that might hold clues.
When the count's library yielded nothing, she begged her father for access to unpublished records and pored through them.
'Not this either.'
This one, this one, this one, this one.
With each growing pile of books and records, her frustration deepened, but she gritted her teeth and kept searching.
Did the heavens recognize her efforts?
Surprisingly, she found a lead.
The clue lay with the Clarins Family's founder.
The founder had met a mysterious woman and established the house, but records revealed she was a witch.
The witch had seduced people with her purple eyes and pierced their thoughts.
'This is it!'
Reading those words, Laura intuitively knew.
Atavism.
An ancestor's traits skipping generations to awaken in her.
The witch's blood from centuries ago had stirred within her.
With direction now, she gathered every scrap of info on witches.
From the scant details, she analyzed the witch's power and found a way to suppress this cursed ability.
After trying various methods, she finally succeeded.
'This method! Using this will suppress it!'
The secret whispers dwindled.
The covert mutterings faded one by one, and by the time she reached adolescence, they were nearly gone.
Only the occasional surface thought would brush her vision.
Believing she'd finally returned to "normal," Laura cautiously shared the good news with her father—
and Count Clarins replied curtly.
"Good, that's a relief."
That was it.
The count turned away as if he'd seen something unpleasant and retreated to his room.
And from his receding back flowed his thoughts.
Ah.
Laura collapsed limply right there.
And confronted the truth she'd desperately ignored.
...Father, Count Clarins, did not love her.
He loved only her beauty and the benefits it would bring.
"Ah... Aah..."
That day, Laura Clarins shattered completely.
A father who saw her as a tool.
A mother too terrified of exposure to even show her face anymore.
To them, all her years of effort meant nothing.
In the end, she lost all will and secluded herself in her room.
How much time passed as she rotted away in the corner like the dead?
The one servant who pitied her in this house, Nina, cautiously brought news.
"Miss, they've decided who you're to marry."
"......"
"The third son of the Duke of Dominica's house. How could they send you to a place like that..."
Laura burrowed under the covers, listening blankly to Nina.
Dominica Ducal House.
Even after years cooped up longer than anywhere else, Laura knew the name.
Infamous for committing any filthy deed for family gain.
Rumors swirled publicly that its members lacked human emotion, with molten iron in their veins instead of blood.
'Me, to a place like that? Why?'
The Clarins weren't lacking, but not prestigious enough for a ducal match.
Especially for gain-obsessed Dominica—better options existed.
A flicker of doubt, but she soon let it go.
What Dominica and Clarins schemed for the betrothal wasn't her concern.
She was just being sold off anyway.
Like livestock raised in a pen.
That thought birthed something within her.
'Why me? What did I do wrong?'
It was resentment.
Resentment she'd suppressed, believing effort would fix it.
Resentment that sank into the muck with her other emotions after her faith was betrayed.
It swelled in her heart like bursting from long repression, spewing fury wildly.
'Why should I suffer like this? It wasn't my choice!'
She'd contributed nothing to her misfortune.
Just bad luck that an ancestor's blood awakened in her, and those around couldn't accept it.
So why must she alone bear the torment?
Something was wrong.
Terribly, fundamentally wrong.
Her purple eyes gleamed in the dark covers.
'Afraid of my eyes? Creeped out?'
If that's what they thought, she'd gladly become that.
She'd see everything with the eyes she'd only suppressed.
Expose all their malice and secrets.
And use them against them, so no one could toy with her.
The Dominica Ducal House would be the perfect start.
A house unhesitant in filth must have mountains of secrets unfit for light.
With her resolve hardened, Laura Clarins prepared for the day she'd be sold to Dominica.
She restored her appearance ruined by seclusion, relearned etiquette, practiced forgotten smiles before the mirror.
And worked to reopen her long-suppressed "eyes."
Too long repressed, they no longer worked properly.
After effort, she could again read fragments of people's thoughts.
'Just surface psychology, huh.'
A far cry from her childhood power rummaging deep secrets.
But it was enough.
Dominica folk knew nothing of her ability.
She'd burrow deeper using their careless surface thoughts.
And on the day she gripped all secrets,
no one in the world could treat her like livestock.
With that vow, the day before the betrothal ceremony.
She finally met her fiancé.
Seated in the reception room, she examined her approaching betrothed.
'That's my fiancé.'
Leonardo Dominica. Third son of the Duke of Dominica.
Unfortunately, little info on him.
Whether family decision or his nature, even rumors were scarce.
Only that he was typically Dominica—called "Little Iron-Blooded."
And indeed, his appearance justified the moniker.
Laura trembled faintly watching the man approach.
'Scary...'
Objectively, her fiancé was strikingly handsome.
A toned body honed by training, a chiseled jawline.
His confident bearing suited the ducal uniform splendidly.
Hard to believe he was a noble just reaching adulthood.
But that refined allure, enough to stir any maiden's heart, drowned in one fatal flaw.
His expression.
An utterly unreadable face!
Like forged from steel, his features and eyes overwhelmed simply by facing them.
The chill of staring down a blade.
The uncanny sense of something inhuman mimicking humanity.
Staring at eyes forcing her to grasp "Little Iron-Blooded," Laura clenched her fists.
'Don't be scared, Laura. No matter how frightening, he can't block my eyes.'
Read thoughts, and manipulating people is simple.
Dominica's Little Iron-Blooded wouldn't be an exception—
"A pleasure to meet you, Lord Leonardo. I am Laura Clarins."
...Huh?
Laura Clarins unwittingly looked up at her fiancé, stunned by thoughts so at odds with his appearance.
And the betrothed gazing down with marble-carved impassivity spat his first words.
"Jewel-like eyes."
"......"
At her fiancé's words, Laura reflexively averted her eyes.
And thought,
'What is this guy?'
So different from what I expected...