Villain, Let Me Touch You! - Chapter 101
“Insolent wretches!”
Priscilla hurled the newspaper across the room. Not a single paper had covered her birthday.
All of them were filled with stories about Helios and Rienna. And Demyr.
“When the hell did those bastards become allies?”
Each article made a point to include at least one line about Demyr and Helios getting along.
It was just one line, but the ripple effect it could cause was massive.
Priscilla, who stood firmly on the opposite side of Demyr, was already feeling it.
The day after the ball, the number of greeting cards sent by nobles had dropped dramatically.
“Which families didn’t send a card?”
“Your Grace, we should wait until at least this morning is over.”
Her aide tried to calm her, hoping to suppress the storm of fury brewing within her.
“It’s still early, isn’t it?”
“It’s already ten o’clock! And you’re calling that early?”
“Didn’t the ball end quite late last night? It only wrapped up right before sunrise.”
The attempt to soothe Priscilla only fueled her anger.
“What?! They partied until then? On my dime, in the banquet hall I decorated! Eating food made by the chefs I hired, laughing and chatting? Ha, these people, seriously!”
Her blood pressure spiking, Priscilla finally grabbed the back of her neck. The aide gave a discreet signal, and the maids rushed over to massage her shoulders and limbs.
Priscilla closed her eyes tightly, then opened them again and brushed the maids away with a wave of her hand.
“Useless things!” her aide yelled at the maids. “Hey! You seriously didn’t know? That Demyr is in league with Helios? That the Emperor and Demyr were plotting something? You really didn’t know?”
The aide just hoped her wrath wouldn’t be directed at him.
Of course, it was largely his fault for not anticipating Demyr’s impulsive move in advance, but he wanted to be seen scolding the others while their mistress was still rational.
The one thing he desperately wanted to avoid was being reprimanded when she was even slightly unhinged. Because when Priscilla lost her composure, she was no different from a madwoman.
“You knew, didn’t you? You’re siding with Demyr too, just like that Helios bastard! What does that girl have that I don’t?! A mere count’s daughter! And she dares to take the Empress’s seat ahead of me, a noblewoman from a ducal family?! That wench who once came begging to our house because she had no money, now dares to look down on me?”
Demyr’s family had been dirt poor before she became Queen.
Count Lucille, afflicted with a business obsession, squandered the family inheritance and racked up massive debts.
Yet, as a nobleman, Count Lucille couldn’t bring himself to cut back on household staff or scale down their standard of living.
As time passed, months without pay grew more frequent, and eventually the servants began pressuring him.
That was when Demyr had to kneel before Priscilla’s father, Duke Ariana, and beg for money.
Duke Ariana didn’t just trample on Demyr’s pride. He crushed it before lending her the money. Then he hounded her relentlessly to pay it back.
Until she struck a fortunate match with the Emperor, Demyr had to visit the Ariana ducal estate every morning and evening, either to beg for a delay in repayment or to hand over whatever money she had managed to scrape together.
Sometimes she had to face Duke Ariana. When he was away, it was his wife.
And Priscilla had watched it all.
Occasionally, feeling a flicker of pity, Priscilla would toss a few coins at her.
“She had her pride, though. She stared at those coins for the longest time. And when she handed them off to the servants, she’d bow her head, like she was so gracious. Disgusting.”
That was the last moment Priscilla had ever been able to look down on Demyr.
After Demyr became the Emperor’s happy pair, everything flipped.
She exiled Count Lucille to a distant estate and assigned strict supervision to ensure he could never dabble in business again.
She repaid all the debts, including interest, and subtly sabotaged the Ariana family’s ventures.
In response, Duke Ariana sent Priscilla to the Emperor.
‘You’re the hope of our family. You may not be able to become his happy pair, but at the very least, you can keep the Queen in check. It’d be even better if you gave him a son.’
Priscilla did exactly as her father wished. She bore a son and worked to drive a wedge between the Queen and Helios, pulling them apart.
At the same time, she laid the foundation for Macaulay to become the next crown prince.
When she became the Imperial Consort and the Ariana family reclaimed their status, they became a powerful force behind her.
For a moment, she believed her life was finally turning toward the light.
Especially when Helios fell ill with that bizarre disease, it felt like she’d finally seen a rainbow.
But everything unraveled—so much so that it was as if the moment Demyr became Queen had simply reset and repeated itself.
The sun was shining on Demyr again.
“Why! Why did it turn out like this!”
Priscilla threw everything within reach off the table.
A flowerpot, newspapers, the tablecloth, cushions — she didn’t care what it was. Her forehead was beaded with sweat as she hurled item after item.
Only when everything around her had crashed to the floor did she finally stop.
“Hoo… It’s because of her.”
At the same time, Priscilla’s twisted thoughts reached their final conclusion.
“I have to kill that pink-haired wench.”
Priscilla fixated on a newspaper that had landed on the floor. The headline was so bold it felt like it seared her corneas.
Who is the woman who captured the Empire’s Little Sun? The benefactor who cured His Highness Helios! From savior to lover, kindness blooming into affection.
“That personal physician. She’s the one I need to get rid of first.”
