Chapter 1
Deborah Seymour.
As the beloved only daughter of Duke Seymour, one of the most powerful figures on the continent, she was infamous for committing every imaginable act of cruelty under the protection of her illustrious family name. The moment Deborah—the woman branded as a villainess—entered the ballroom, the cheerful atmosphere froze into silence.
‘What on earth is that ridiculous makeup?’
‘It’s even worse than the rumors.’
Lady Deborah looked exactly like the witches that existed only in storybooks.
Her eyes were sharply lined with dramatic makeup that extended into wicked points. Her lips were blood-red, her skin deathly pale, and her long purple hair flowed freely without a single ornament. If the legendary witch who had once plunged the world into chaos truly existed, she would surely have looked just like this.
Her outfit was even more outrageous.
The ladies attending today’s spring party wore elegant pastel-colored dresses adorned with corsages in keeping with the season’s theme. Deborah, however, appeared in a dress of an audacious design, as though the party’s dress code meant absolutely nothing to her.
Several noblewomen couldn’t even decide where to begin criticizing her appearance. They hid their stiff expressions behind their fans and let out quiet sighs.
The most unbelievable part was that such a bizarre outfit suited Deborah perfectly.
Like a brilliantly colored poisonous mushroom, she possessed an eerie charm that captivated anyone who looked at her. It only made her resemble a witch all the more.
Then it happened.
Deborah unfolded a crimson fan and stopped directly in front of Baron Marco.
Smack!
Without warning, she lashed his right cheek with the fan.
The sharp crack echoed through the ballroom. The force of her merciless blow sent the baron’s wig flying from his head, where it landed pitifully on the floor.
“G-Gasp…”
“My goodness…”
The shocking sight made the more delicate ladies stagger.
Baron Marco, who had been struck out of nowhere, first stared at her in utter disbelief. Moments later, his face twisted with humiliation.
“L-Lady Deborah… Wh-What is the meaning of this…?”
“My hand slipped.”
She answered expressionlessly.
Then she casually raised her arm again and smacked his left cheek as if she were shooing away a fly.
“I must have twisted my wrist this time.”
The man’s goat-like mustache quivered furiously at her indifferent tone.
“W-Why would you commit such an outrageous act, Lady Deborah?”
At his question, the corner of her lips curled slightly.
“Your face is so greasy that my hand just kept slipping. Wipe it properly next time.”
Sneering, Deborah tossed him a handkerchief before turning away without a trace of hesitation.
The handkerchief landed neatly atop the pitiful wig lying on the floor.
A suffocating silence settled over the ballroom.
‘Good heavens…’
‘Who in the world invited that terrifying woman to this party?’
Everyone present was left stunned by the infamous young lady, yet no noble dared openly rebuke her. They merely whispered behind her back.
After all, she was the daughter of Duke Seymour, a man whose power was said to be great enough to make even birds fall from the sky. Fearing the consequences, no one could do anything but watch in silence, no matter what she did.
As if mocking the tense atmosphere, the orchestra began playing a waltz.
Having received no invitations to dance, Deborah walked toward the table lined with champagne glasses.
Then, like a common thug from the back alleys, she gulped the champagne down in great swallows.
After emptying three glasses in no time, she crossed her arms with an arrogant expression, radiating the unmistakable message that she had no intention of associating with any of the nobles present.
At last, Lady Ripplis, a woman renowned for her unwavering integrity, could bear it no longer.
Carefully organizing the advice she intended to give Deborah in her mind, she approached with measured, graceful steps.
“Lady Deborah. I have something important to discuss with you.”
Lady Ripplis elegantly opened her fan as she addressed her.
In response, Deborah coolly flicked open her own crimson fan.
Spread across it was the grotesque image of two snakes tearing into one another.
‘How revolting…!’
Lady Ripplis barely managed to swallow the scream rising to her throat.
Most ladies decorated their fans with flowers or birds.
Yet Deborah carried one painted with snakes.
Come to think of it, the Seymour family crest was a two-headed serpent.
Was this a warning not to overstep one’s place?
“Go ahead.”
Deborah’s voice was so cold it sent a chill through Lady Ripplis’s ears.
“L-Lady…”
Meeting Deborah’s blood-red eyes head-on made goosebumps spread across Lady Ripplis’s skin, and she unconsciously swallowed.
“L-Lady Deborah… Drinking too much isn’t good for you.”
“…”
“I-I only say this because I’m concerned for your health. You understand, don’t you? W-Well then… enjoy the rest of the evening.”
After ending the conversation in complete disarray, Lady Ripplis hurriedly retreated backward.
‘…What was that? She suddenly came over and nearly scared me to death.’
The instant Lady Ripplis disappeared into the crowd, Deborah finally released the sigh she had been holding back.
The hand gripping her fan was slick with cold sweat.
‘I got nervous for nothing.’
To suppress the tension still tightening her chest, Deborah downed another glass of champagne.
In truth, Deborah Seymour wasn’t actually bold at all, despite her notorious reputation.
More accurately…
Yoon Do-hee, the woman who had transmigrated into Deborah Seymour’s body, was timid.
‘Don’t shrink back. I’m not going to live like the nice, easy target I used to be.’
Deborah bit down firmly on her crimson lips.
‘There’s no reason to feel guilty. That baron deserved far worse.’
Baron Marco—the man she had struck with her fan—had not only carried on an affair with one of his maids but had even pushed his pregnant wife down a staircase, breaking her leg.
But the crowd, captivated only by Deborah’s terrifying appearance and outrageous behavior, had no interest whatsoever in the truth behind the incident.
‘Good. Everything’s going according to plan.’
Judging by the sideways glances and whispered gossip surrounding her, Deborah’s fearsome reputation had once again been perfectly preserved today.
‘I’ll keep living comfortably as the kingdom’s villainess.’
No one can ever find out that I’m actually a pushover.
As if reinforcing her resolve, she clenched her fist tightly.
