Chapter 11
One defining feature of otome games is that many characters hold high social status. But even then, a duke—and the commander of the Imperial Knights, no less. This wasn’t someone you could casually joke about marriage with.
‘With stats like that, why didn’t he even appear in the game? Isn’t that a bug to begin with?’
Maybe he was a hidden capture target? It wouldn’t be strange—even if I didn’t know everything about [Victorian Love].
‘If I’d known I’d end up transmigrating into this, I would’ve played more. No—at least I shouldn’t have skimmed the opening cutscene.’
Thinking about the game’s setting made me feel stifled. I had possessed a game world, yet I knew almost nothing about its details.
‘No, this is the game’s fault. If there are hidden capture targets, they should at least black them out on the cover or something to let players know they exist.’
Snorting, I continued mercilessly criticizing [Victorian Love].
‘The whole setting is ridiculously skewed anyway. Even if I’d played properly, it probably wouldn’t make much difference.’
Usually, otome games feature a variety of capture targets—the emperor, crown prince, duke, knight commander, guardian dragon, and so on. But [Victorian Love] had all its main characters concentrated solely within the Bohanan Count’s household.
In other words, just playing the game told you nothing about the empire itself.
‘Ugh, why did I even bother playing such a trash game?’
My thoughts spiraled from criticizing the game to berating myself for playing it on release day without waiting for reviews.
As I was busy slandering [Victorian Love], a ding-dong sound rang above my head.
※ The villainess does not think deeply.
I couldn’t agree with that.
‘What kind of nonsense is that! You’re discriminating against villainesses. A villainess has to think more deeply than anyone—otherwise, how could she devise just the right amount of suffering to torment the heroine without actually killing her?’
※ Your acts of villainy are at the level of a seven-year-old child.
‘That’s because your choices are garbage!’
Did it look like I wanted to be the kind of villainess who screams and lashes people with a whip? If anything, I wanted to be an elegant villainess who strokes a cat while gracefully commanding her subordinates.
※ …….
The system window fell silent after being called out. I rolled over to the other side.
‘Anyway, since I’ve gotten thoroughly entangled with him, I need to figure out who he is.’
I pulled the bell rope by my bed to summon a maid.
“Bring me the noble registry.”
I gave the order while lying curled up, treating her like she wasn’t even a person. The maid flinched, then quickly left the room.
The moment the door closed, it felt like she would start badmouthing me—but I didn’t care. I was pleased.
‘Good. No choices appeared!’
It seemed that if I avoided eye contact while giving orders, no choices would trigger.
‘So if I just walk around with my head down, I can control the story myself?’
Keeping my head down? That’s something I’m very good at. Even before transmigrating, making eye contact with people was really hard for me.
And with how extreme the choices were, it felt better to just avoid them altogether.
‘If I had to swing a whip every day, my arms would break. I’m so weak and fragile.’
Still curled up like a caterpillar, I bent over and rubbed my leg. From kicking Julius, the recoil had left my toes, ankle, and heel all swollen.
‘I hope there’s no fracture.’
It was amazing I had managed to walk all the way back to my bedroom. As I rubbed my foot, I gave a bitter smile.
‘That aside… no one really cares about me, huh.’
No matter how vicious a villainess I was, shouldn’t someone at least check if I was injured?
‘Sienna is truly alone.’
As I let out a quiet sigh, a pair of crimson eyes flashed vividly in my mind. Along with them, his low, heavy voice echoed.
—No matter how troubled you look when you say that, it’s not convincing at all, Your Highness.
He had commented on my expression.
In a situation where even my dialogue wasn’t under my control, expressions and gestures were something I hadn’t even considered.
‘Why did he say that? Could it be my thoughts are showing on my face?’
After a brief moment of thought, I shook my head.
‘No way. Everyone else has never doubted that I’m a villainess. If my expressions were off, someone would’ve noticed.’
‘Percy Stewart… he’s the strange one.’
That was as far as my thoughts could go.
Just then, the maid returned with the registry. I sat at the table where it had been placed. The maid lit the lamps, opened the window, and left like the wind. The cool night air seeped into the room like mist.
‘Seriously, I’m limping this badly and no one notices?’
Hungry and in pain, I felt miserable. Clenching my fists, I shook my head.
‘Useless thoughts. Completely useless.’
The fresh air helped clear my mind a little.
I slowly flipped through the registry. It didn’t take long to find his name.
‘Here it is. Percy Stewart.’
And below it—an absurdly long list of achievements.
Summarized, it went like this:
Percy Stewart
Succeeded to the title of Duke Stewart (age 15)
Won the Imperial Martial Tournament (age 19)
…
Appointed Commander of the Imperial Knights (age 24)
There was only one conclusion: he was a flawless elite.
‘A duke at fifteen…’
Apparently, he had inherited the title after the simultaneous deaths of his parents.
‘A tragic backstory neatly added to enhance his beauty. It’s like they stuffed in every possible narrative element to create the perfect male lead.’
Since he was just a game character, I read his story with cold detachment.
‘Typical game setting. A duke wouldn’t need to work as a knight commander, but they make him do it just to look cool.’
Resting my chin on my hand, I stared at the name Percy Stewart.
The true male lead of this game was Daniel Bohanan.
So who was this man who looked like the protagonist in every possible way?
‘A hidden storyline?’
Or maybe the game had a dual structure—Beth staying with the Bohanan family being the surface story, while something deeper unfolded behind it.
‘…No way.’
Why would a game go out of its way to create such a complicated backstory? Even I found the thought ridiculous.
Muttering to myself, I shook my head.
“What am I even thinking?”
That was when—
“I’ll answer anything about myself.”
“Gah—!!”
A low, heavy voice rang out right beside me. Startled, I nearly fell out of my chair, barely catching myself on the edge of the table.
※ That scream was unbefitting of a villainess. Final warning.
※ There will be a penalty next time.
‘There are penalties too?’
Then why not just block my mouth entirely? It stops me whenever it wants, yet at moments like this, it lets me speak freely—how absurd.
‘Anyone would be helpless if startled like that.’
Pouting, I turned my head.
The man I had just read about—Duke Percy Stewart—stood by the open window.
Even in the darkness of night, his hair shimmered like starlight. He had been intimidating even when smiling earlier, but now his expression was cold—like a ghost or a reaper standing there.
“My apologies for startling you. Next time, I’ll knock on the window before entering.”
Percy spoke in a tone that was not apologetic in the slightest. It was almost impressive how arrogantly one could apologize.
Pressing my aching temple, I thought:
‘There’s going to be a next time? Could you maybe just use the door like a normal person?’
But before I could ask, those cursed choices appeared again.
▶ I will report this to His Majesty.
▶ For trespassing into my room, your left wrist shall be cut off.
‘Seriously… how are none of these acceptable?’
Life teaches you to settle for the second-best when the best isn’t available—but here, there wasn’t even a second-best option.
‘If I report him, will the Emperor really leave me alone? That man’s insane—no way. But if I say to cut off his wrist, what if he actually does it?’
He was strange too. While I hesitated, the choices upgraded.
▶ Throw the noble registry.
▶ Throw the paperweight.
Why did they suddenly become violent?
‘I should’ve picked something when it was just insults…’
I agonized over the options.
‘Is it even okay to choose these? Both are heavy. If they hit his head, he could die.’
Would that lead to my execution too?
Hitting a duke with a paperweight—seriously? And earlier it was smashing a maid with a wine bottle. It felt like every choice ultimately led to violence.
‘S-Still… option one is better, right?’
A paperweight was basically a rock, but the registry was just a book. If something went wrong, at least the book wouldn’t be considered a murder weapon.
After much deliberation, I chose the first option.
Just as I was about to throw the book I had been reading at him—
