Chloe von Rosenberg, a daughter of a military noble family, suddenly realizes she's become the villainess from a game she played in her past life. Her fate is to be condemned and exiled. But Chloe, who was a salaryman in her previous life, decides to use her strategic mind to change her destiny.
She aims to become a perfect lady to improve her relationship with Crown Prince Alexis. However, her inner self is still male, causing her to act too familiarly with men and fluster Alexis constantly. Y
The Villainess with a Bewitching Face - The Scarred Lady Stands in Crimson
The east wing of the Rosenberg estate was quiet.
Two weeks had passed since the bombing. The bandages had come off her cheek, but every time she looked in the mirror, the burn scar running from beneath her left eye was unmistakably there.
Chloe tossed the bundle of letters in her hand onto the old desk. They landed with a dry rustle.
"...I see. Well, this is infuriating."
Her voice was low and ice-cold.
The letters her maid had gathered, trembling, were filled with whatever venom their authors pleased—jointly signed missives sent to various noble houses by the aristocratic ladies of the upper district, declaring that a "disfigured young lady would only drag her fiancé down."
And that wasn't all.
Chloe spread several of the letters across the desk and carefully compared the wax seal patterns.
"Every single letter has the same handwriting and the same seal stamp. One person wrote all of them. They're using the other young ladies as figureheads, trying to drive me out of high society."
Indeed, over the past week, invitations to evening parties and tea gatherings had abruptly stopped arriving. High society was attempting to erase Chloe's existence by completely ignoring her.
*(In my past life, this kind of insidious bullying was the sort of thing a rank-and-file employee got for defying their department head.)*
A detached part of her mind muttered. But right now, she was Chloe von Rosenberg. A daughter of military nobility. Her salaryman mentality from her past life and the pride of a villainess simultaneously ignited deep in her gut.
"Bring it on...!"
She almost let slip masculine speech and pressed a hand to her mouth. Then she turned to her maid, who was watching anxiously nearby.
"Fine. If someone's scheming against me, I can use it against them. I'll show them. I'll make this scar my weapon."
She rose to her feet. Her silver hair swayed, charged with resolve.
Chloe headed for a tailor shop on Silver Pillar Street in the middle district: *Madame Liesel's Needle Box*. A favorite of noble young ladies, this establishment charged no less than fifteen gold coins for a single dress.
A clear bell chimed.
"Oh my, Lady Rosenberg...!"
The portly shop owner, Liesel Brandt, was a woman who had once worked in the royal palace wardrobe. She caught her breath for a moment upon seeing Chloe's face. She must have already heard about the scar. Her eyes unconsciously flicked to Chloe's left cheek.
Unbothered, Chloe leaned over the counter.
"Madame, I want you to make me an avant-garde dress. An extraordinary piece, for an evening party."
"Of course, my lady. What sort of..."
"Open the left shoulder wide, and cut the neckline down to here. A design that completely exposes the line of my left cheek."
Liesel's hands stopped. The color drained from her face.
"M-My lady! But then... your facial scar will be far too conspicuous! A fine young lady such as yourself..."
"Conspicuous is exactly what I want."
Chloe declared it with perfect composure.
"I'll rivet the eyes of everyone at that evening party onto this scar. While they're all staring at it, I can observe their every move. Who spread the rumors, who fears me, who pities me. *Zamaa miro*—that's what you call strategy."
Liesel was speechless for a moment, then adjusted her glasses with trembling hands.
"...My lady. Have you... suffered some injury to your heart?"
"Heh, not at all. I'm still me. I just got a little toughened up by a detestable boss in a past life."
Liesel didn't understand what she meant. But she was a professional. Seeing the eerie calm and fighting spirit dwelling in this young lady's eyes, she sensed something.
"...What color shall it be?"
"Crimson. A burning red, the same color as the burn scar. I'll incorporate it as part of this face."
A few days later, the finished dress was breathtaking.
It exposed only the left shoulder, with calculated tailoring that naturally cast light matching the dress's color onto the burn scar on her left cheek.
Standing before the mirror in the fitting room, Chloe murmured quietly.
"Perfect."
Liesel fastened the buttons at the back. The crimson of the dress, the smooth white skin of Chloe's back. And the scar on her face reflected in the mirror. Its bizarre beauty and painfulness dominated the air of the room.
Liesel unconsciously clasped her hands together and said in a trembling voice:
"...You are truly a terrifying person."
The day of the evening party arrived. The grand hall of Weisskrone Castle was, as always, filled with light and music. The glow of magical furnaces illuminated the gorgeous dresses.
But the clamor suddenly fell dead silent.
Chloe stood at the entrance.
The crimson dress looked as if it were blood dripping from her left cheek. The scar was not hidden; rather, it merged with the dress, emitting a bewitching radiance.
The noble ladies who had been about to sneer froze with their mouths agape. Everyone was at a loss for words, simply captivated by that strange beauty.
Only the click of her heels echoed through the silenced hall.
The moment Alexis saw her from the shadow of a pillar, his breath stopped.
*(Chloe...)*
His chest pounded fiercely.
He immediately began walking. The curious stares around him, the hushed whispers—none of it reached his ears. He came straight to her side and surveyed the assembled crowd.
"Lady Rosenberg is my fiancée."
His sky-blue eyes gleamed coldly.
"Her worth is judged by me. No one else has any room to interfere."
The grand hall fell silent, as if a bucket of water had been thrown over it.
Chloe glanced at Alexis from the corner of her eye.
*(...He's a more useful fiancé than I thought.)*
Inwardly, she quietly revised her estimation of Alexis upward. He might be thinking right now that she was gazing at him, deeply moved.
But Chloe's eyes were already scanning the entire hall.
*(Now then, which face is it? What kind of face is the one who spread those rumors making at this sight?)*
Alexis noticed that his fiancée beside him remained utterly composed and let out a small sigh.
Just then, Chloe felt a sharp, burning gaze on her back.
Someone was "appraising" her. That was the sensation.
She slowly turned around.
In a far corner of the grand hall stood the diplomatic delegation from Grinford. And at its center was a tall man.
His silver-gray hair was perfectly slicked back, and he wore a silver monocle over his left eye. His pale blue eyes, like a frozen lake, pierced straight through Chloe.
Sergio Vasqueri.
He wore a perfect gentleman's smile on his lips. But his eyes alone were cold and feverish, like a serpent sizing up its prey.
Alarm bells rang in the back of Chloe's mind.
*(He has the exact same face as the archrival from the game in my past life...)*
Sergio slowly gave a courteous bow.
Without changing her expression in the slightest, Chloe returned a slight bow. But her heart rate had risen just a little.
Sergio averted his gaze and murmured in a voice only his adjacent subordinate could hear.
"Beyond expectations. She's even turned the scar into an ornament that adorns her. ...This was worth testing."
His subordinate's spine froze at the sound.
Sergio approached the two of them with the casual ease of meeting an old friend.
"Well, well, Your Royal Highness, Crown Prince Alexis. And Lady Rosenberg. On behalf of Grinford, please allow me to express my heartfelt sympathies regarding your injury in that unfortunate incident the other day."
His tone of voice was astonishingly gentle.
Alexis, his expression unchanged, offered his thanks.
Chloe looked him straight in the eye.
"I am honored by your concern, Lord Chancellor Vasqueri. Thanks to you, this scar has become my weapon."
Something flickered deep in Sergio's eyes for just an instant. But it immediately returned to a gentle smile.
"My... what a wise young lady."
With just that, he turned gracefully and disappeared into the crowd.
Alexis asked in a low voice.
"...Chloe. Are you acquainted with that man?"
"No. But we should be on guard. As far as I know, he's the most dangerous type."
She couldn't give her reason. Who would believe a story about a game from a past life?
The evening party ended, and alone in her carriage, Chloe let out a deep breath. The battlefield of finery was far more exhausting than she had imagined.
Late that night, in her room, Chloe was reading a report submitted by Alexis's guards.
*'Sergio Vasqueri, before and after this evening party, conducted a top-secret investigation into the movements of Lady Rosenberg.'*
Her hand gripping the pen naturally tightened.
"...He investigated me?"
This man's objective was not mere diplomacy. She didn't know who the mastermind behind the bombing was, but Sergio's eyes were the eyes of someone who knew everything and was enjoying it nonetheless.
*(This isn't a game. This is a real war—far more troublesome, far more insidious.)*
Outside the window, the white towers of Weisskrone Castle were sinking into darkness.
Chloe glanced at the mirror. She had already removed the crimson dress, but the burn scar on her left cheek remained on her face, like a mark of victory.
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