The tyrant Loxidian in the book was born fundamentally devoid of emotion.
The beast’s blood, woven into the royal lineage, had manifested all too strongly in him. Consequently, Loxidian remained dull to the myriad emotions that humans possess by nature. His mind was brilliant, yet he struggled to grasp manners or common sense, constantly hamstrung by the raw, predatory instincts he could not restrain.
Pitying his state, the former Emperor and Empress had borrowed the power of magic to forcibly imbue him with artificial emotions. It worked while he was young, but as he aged, the magic’s grip began to fail.
‘The more it faded, the more the madness resurfaced.’
This was the root of his tyranny. Later, the narrative shifted into “19+” territory, centering on his desperate, obsessive struggle to suppress that encroaching madness once the female lead arrived.
‘Why, in front of me, has he turned into such a pathetic mess?’
Noah knelt on one knee before me.
“My apologies for the late greeting, Lady. And congratulations. To think you have managed to calm His Majesty’s madness.”
“……”
“You have removed one of the Empire’s hidden afflictions.”
No, I hadn’t exactly removed that affliction out of some noble intent.
“It’s too early to congratulate me. There are side effects.”
“Side effects, you say?”
“Damn it… I don’t want to say it with my own mouth.”
“Pardon?”
“I said I don’t want to say it, ugh.”
“But Your Majesty, as you know, am I not in a position where I must know everything? I will understand even if the side effect is that you become an imbecile, so please tell me. I am prepared.”
“Do you want to die? Ha… It’ll be faster to see it for yourself. Hey.”
Loxidian called for me, and Noah’s gaze naturally shifted to my face. I tilted my head.
“‘Mom’ must have left a very good gift.”
Simultaneously, Loxidian’s expression softened. His face transformed, and the very gaze he fixed upon me changed. A soft, tender smile graced his lips.
“That’s right, Liz. Mother must have left a good gift for my little sister.”
“……Your Majesty?”
“Come to think of it, is there anything you want?”
I saw Noah’s jaw drop, mirroring my own, as he watched the tyrant busy talking to himself.
Loxidian couldn’t have cared less, busy crouching his massive frame beside me, inquiring after me with the doting air of a brother. His hunched posture looked exactly like a tiger that, convinced it was a housecat, had crammed itself into a box far too small.
Noah bit back a laugh, only to choke it down instantly under Loxidian’s lethal glare as the Emperor snapped back to his usual self.
“Ah, um, uh, I will… *huff*, ah, find out how this came to be.”
Loxidian rose from his seat.
“Phew, let’s set today’s business aside. You. I’m warning you, don’t go wandering outside.”
“……”
I could only watch his retreating back in utter bewilderment.
It felt as though a storm had just torn through the room.
* * *
Loxidian, who seemed as if he might return at any moment, did not come to find me again.
For some reason, my maternal grandfather, Duke Alzbeit, was furious upon returning from an outing that day.
‘So Loxidian and Duke Alzbeit have a bad relationship.’
It was one of the truths I had learned as the memories of Charlize gradually returned. They were not on good terms—or rather, they were political arch-enemies.
And yet, both men were strangely lenient toward Charlize.
‘Well, even if she lived like a wreck, they clearly had enough affection for her to clean up the mess.’
Before me sat a mountain of gifts sent by one of those men: my maternal grandfather.
“His Grace the Duke prepared these out of concern for the Lady, who has had absolutely no outings lately.”
“Oh.”
I whistled internally, lost in thought.
*Wow, even with this, he still won’t meet me?*
It was because I still hadn’t been able to encounter the one person I absolutely had to see: my fiancé. On top of that, the invitations I’d sent dozens of times were returned unopened, as always. Meanwhile, documents demanding the annulment of our engagement kept arriving at the Alzbeit Duchy.
I’d shown as much courtesy as I reasonably could. It was time to take matters into my own hands.
*Since the circumstances have changed, I’d hoped for a reasonably polite first meeting, but…*
I turned over the information regarding Askin in my head.
“I’m going out.”
“Yes, my Lady. I will prepare immediately.”
The place where that man would be at this hour is… well, there is only one.
A little while later, I looked at the hem of my outing dress and marveled slightly.
“……I picked the most modest one.”
In the closet of Charlize, who made luxury a virtue, the word “modest” did not exist.
*It’s really pretty, though.*
It was true. My face was so beautiful that I never tired of looking at it. If I had entered the entertainment industry with a face like this, I wouldn’t just have made a living—I could have earned enough to feed my grandchildren’s grandchildren.
Though, there was a slightly vicious cast to my features. Still, I suppose that absolute beauty masked it.
*Charlize must have known her appearance very well. And she must have utilized it, too.*
Her closet was full of clothes that were lavish yet perfectly tailored to her. Finding a dress that wasn’t revealing was like trying to pluck stars from the sky. I had no choice but to throw on a coat and was about to leave the mansion when—
“Um, m-my Lady!”
I paused, puzzled.
A maid blocked my path and bowed her head, then raised it, trembling with an expression that screamed, *Please, just don’t kill me!*
What? Had some kind of problem arisen? The maids here were all deathly afraid of Charlize. Just because I’d treated them well for a few days didn’t mean they could overcome that ingrained terror overnight.
…Just how many people had she tormented?
Regardless, I tilted my head. “Why are you blocking me?”
“A, a guest has arrived.”
“A guest?”
“Yes, the Lady’s friends…”
“Ah.”
Friends? As I searched my memory, flickers of Charlize’s past surfaced.
Aah. Friends. You mean *them*.
Charlize did not commit her evil deeds alone. There was a group that frequently caused trouble with her—a collection of cunning people who either shared her tendencies or scavenged the scraps that fell from her status.
*They call themselves the “Capital’s Scoundrels.” I remember calling them “Scoun” for short.*
Just like their name, these people would later end up with their lives in shambles—karma they brought upon themselves. And Charlize, the leader of this group, met the most horrific end of all.
I rubbed my neck.
*Wow, I feel the reality of possessing a dark romance novel so vividly now.*
If the story proceeds exactly as in the original, I, Charlize, will be murdered by the person I loved and obsessed over, and the brother I trusted will be so deeply infatuated with another woman that he won’t even lift a finger to help me.
In short, it meant dying alone, in such a terrifying, suffering way that I wouldn’t want to be born again.
*Actually, I already met the brother… and it wasn’t even a betrayal, but it looked like he would just take the female lead’s side as soon as she appeared.*
They were close siblings in the original. No matter how I looked at it, I’d be lucky if he didn’t harbor more resentment toward me, having viewed me as less than a stray dog, only to be severely punished and sent packing.
The only fortunate thing is that if I can spend one year here safely…
1.
‘It has nothing to do with the original story. That’s what it means.’
I can go back to a time before the death of Charlize that was destined in the original!
The timing is cutting it close, though.
Therefore.
“Cancel the carriage.”
“……Yes, my Lady.”
‘To survive the next year, I must cut ties with these wretched friends in advance.’
These scoundrels currently visiting me were of no use to the plan I needed to execute.
There is no harm in nipping a threat in the bud.
‘Wait for me, my fiancé. I’ll be there to see your face soon enough.’
It was a pity I couldn’t visit the fiancé with whom I needed to negotiate with all possible haste.
But if I considered it one step back for two steps forward, it was no loss.
“Bring the guest in.”
* * *
A luxurious reception room.
The reception room of Charlize was far from the typical layout.
Usually, a noble lady’s reception room favored elegant tea tables and expansive, sun-drenched windows.
Charlize’s, by contrast, had no large windows, and those that did exist were shuttered with heavy blackout curtains.
The result was an environment that felt like the dead of night, even in the middle of the day.
Bathed in the dim glow of magic lamps, the scene was reminiscent of a high-end pub.
‘In dramas, chaebols are always hanging out in fancy bars. This place doesn’t look any different…’
That was exactly what it was.
The household servants, broken by Charlize’s tyranny and terror, had prepared it all without a word of instruction.
And upon the comfortable, plush sofas, several men and women sat waiting.