Did I Accidentally Seduce the Villainess?
"Forget the saintess and marry me." Villainess. Judith La Roche.
When I read the original novel Golden Chains, I didn't have any particular feelings about this character. The whole "villainess" position is just a clichéd trope you've seen everywhere.
She hides "Love me" behind "Marry me," shows up to interfere with the heroine getting together with the male lead, and eventually gets her comeuppance. She's the kind of character readers love to hate. In other words, her appearance signals, "The main story of the original is kicking off for real now." Which also means I definitely shouldn't be here.
She's planted right smack in the center of the original plot. I'm already hiding behind the sofa to avoid the crown prince, and if the villainess joins the party, that's straight-up a disaster.
I held my breath carefully. Just fight already. Get out already. Please.
"……."
The crown prince's silence stretched on. That guy has a real skill for not answering. Conveying "rejection" so heavily without a single word. It had that imperial weight, that solemnity. He really is the cool type, no denying it.
No. Why the hell am I analyzing characters right now?
This guy's occupational disease.
"……Do you know about the bad rumors circulating about the saintess?"
The lady's voice had changed. The desperation from before was gone, replaced by something far calmer and sharper.
Speaking of rumors—what bad rumors could there be?
"Lady, you're crossing the line."
The crown prince's voice was chillingly low. But the lady didn't back down.
"Your Highness must know about that seditious book quietly making the rounds in the empire's back alleys, right?"
My heart dropped in that instant. Seditious book? That's my comic!
No way, why the fuck am I getting dragged into this here?
Before I could even vent my injustice, the lady's mouth opened again.
"There's no smoke without fire, is there? The saintess's purity might just be a facade. Are you really going to stand by and let a woman like that become the imperial family's lady of the house?"
Her voice slithered in like a viper. Wow, she's a villainess down to her bones. The intensity of her words, the sharpness packed into them—pure subculture cliché overload.
But the crown prince's response was so calm and rational it made her provocation look silly.
"I'll personally hunt down the rat who made that blasphemous book and make sure they pay. It's best not to stir up trouble with baseless speculation."
Whoa. This crown prince is a real man. Look at him being cool.
He's not even doubting the saintess here? Of course, that's all surface-level, but—wait, no.
That's him saying he's coming after me.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Don't get caught. Never let them find out my pen name is Extra.
Thud—
Soon, the crown prince's firm footsteps receded, and the lounge door shut coldly. The fight ended there. Conclusion: the crown prince wins, and the lady's probably mortified.
And the real loser is me. With a death flag planted by the crown prince.
…Fuck.
Well, anyway. Getting killed if the crown prince catches me was already a foreseeable plot point, so nothing's really changed. Getting tangled up with the lady here would be the real worst-case scenario.
I just need to stay hidden like a transparent ghost until she leaves, then slip out quietly. Perfect plan.
—BAM!
"Aaack!"
Before the plan could even finish forming, a dull explosion rang out, and a pathetic scream burst from my mouth.
The lady, unable to contain her rage, had kicked the chair in front of the table in a fit of anger. And that heavy solid-wood chair flipped backward, smashing right into my shin where I was flattened behind the sofa.
"Who's there?"
Caught. Perfectly and pathetically.
I clutched my throbbing shin and staggered to my feet. Then, as I looked up with resentful eyes, I couldn't help but freeze.
She's incredibly beautiful.
Like, physically overwhelming enough to short-circuit a person's brain. Flowing raven-black waves of hair, seductive and deadly wine-red eyes. Even her cheeks flushed with anger looked like a masterpiece painting.
That's when I truly understood why this clichéd romance-fantasy world could proudly feature an "inefficient" position like the villainess. Because they're beautiful. That appearance alone provides the narrative plausibility and persuasion.
"I asked who you are."
The lady was looking down at me, her wine-red eyes narrowed coldly like a proper villainess waiting for my answer.
What do I even say?
Options: three.
First, run. —Impossible. Already busted.
Second, reveal my identity and grovel. —Impossible. The name Ian Ashy is worthless in this world.
Third, go full shameless.
My quick-thinking skills from my pre-possession days as webtoon artist Kang Do-hyuk, honed against countless reader complaints, kicked in. Half-assed excuses or groveling would just make me look like easy prey and get me killed. Better to go boldly shameless.
These greenhouse-flower high nobles get thrown off by unexpected audacity and lose their pace.
I lightly swept back my black hair, faking maximum nonchalance and smugness as I opened my mouth.
"Came in to rest 'cause the party was tiring. Got woken up by the noise."
"Are you claiming you didn't hear that conversation just now? What kind of brazen lie—"
"Of course I heard the conversation."
I shrugged once.
"It was so damn loud, it woke me up."
I added with the softest smile, "You even kicked a chair. Thought my shin was broken. Honestly, I feel like I should be the one getting an apology first."
"…W-what?"
The lady's eyes went wide.
I took a step closer, leisurely laying out my logic.
"This is the 'lounge' outside the ballroom. You should've figured someone tired from the party might be resting quietly here. Consideration for space and others—isn't that basic noble etiquette?"
She looked completely flustered. Did I win? This shameless rhetoric worked on territory debt collectors back home, and it seems to have a solid hit rate in this world too.
But after a split-second waver, her eyes narrowed.
"You—which house are you from?"
There it was. The classic villainess move: crushing with family prestige!
If I kept being cheeky to the end here, there might be an assassin by my bedside tomorrow morning.
I bowed my head in an exaggerated, perfectly polite and graceful motion.
"Ian Ashy of the Ashy Barony. It's an honor to meet you, my lady."
With types like this, you gotta tuck tail and bow properly once. Audacity only works as charming tension with some push-pull.
Judith crossed her arms, looking down at me with interest.
"Ashy house—that beggar artist family…? Do you know who that man who just left is?"
"No clue. But in man-woman relations, he's just a guy and she's just a girl. That's why I didn't get it, actually."
"Didn't get it?"
I shrugged and shot straight.
"Seduce him. Go for it. You've got a face that stunning—what are you even hesitating for?"
A heavy silence fell over the room in that instant. Judith's wine-red eyes trembled faintly.
"…In this situation, are you seducing me right now?"
No, crazy. In this world, is just stating the objective fact that she's pretty considered flirting?
How little casual flirting do people do around here that they live so bluntly?
Oh, right—this novel was pitched as clean.
Straight-up compliments might've been a bit too stimulating.
Tricky. But true to her villainess nature, she recovered fast.
"So, how should I seduce the crown prince?"
The provocative question followed. Oh, great question. How a haughty, alluring villainess seduces an indifferent target.
The artist switch in my head flicked on, and a flood of directorial big data from my erotic manga days flashed by.
"Hm… maid outfit?"
The word popped out reflexively. Ah, damn. Old habits from drawing maid erotica slipped out unfiltered.
I realized my mistake and tried to backpedal, but her reaction was… odd.
"……."
She started trembling slightly at the shoulders. Angry? Telling a noble lady to wear a maid outfit—bracing for a slap, I squeezed my eyes shut.
"Pfft… hahaHAHA!"
Then she burst out laughing like it was the funniest thing ever.
An unrefined, hearty laugh clashing with her glamorous looks. Kinda scary?
She elegantly wiped a tear from her eye and looked straight at me.
"So vulgar, so direct. I like it—you speak my language."
"…Glad you approve."
"Say that to anyone else, and you'd lose your head for blasphemy on the spot."
"But you seem more open-minded than anyone in the empire."
She cracked up again at my smug reply.
"Puhahaha!!"
This time for real. She couldn't even cover her mouth anymore, turned slightly, then faced me again.
"Why do you keep wagging your tail like that? You're a fun guy."
…I'm not. Haven't flirted once.
I swallowed my grievance inwardly.
Her expression much lighter now, she turned away. Her lavish dress hem fluttered elegantly, wafting a nice scent.
"Today's been fun enough, so I'll let it slide. Perfect mood changer for my depression, thanks to you."
As she opened the lounge door and glided out gracefully, she added softly,
"Hilarious, really. I'll be watching."
…Watching? What? Me?