Reincarnated as a Doomed Villainess, I Must Marry the Duke of the North to Escape My Execution!!
A modern girl wakes up as a villainess in a manhwa and quickly learns her fiancé—the Crown Prince—is destined to kill her, so in pure panic and survival logic she does the only thing she can think of: rewrites her fate by aiming for the one man even scarier than him—the Duke of the North.
Warning: This story contains political intrigue, poison, strong language, and slow-burn enemies-to-lovers romance in a historical fantasy setting.
“Lady Y/N, when I become king, you shall be my queen!”
“No, that is unfair!” another child protested immediately. “Lady Y/N already promised she would marry the Empire’s greatest general.”
“You cannot become a general,” the first boy scoffed. “You cry whenever you lose at fencing.”
Soft laughter filled the imperial gardens.
The children ran carelessly beneath the afternoon sun while servants watched from a distance, pretending not to listen to the endless nonsense spilling from noble mouths far too young to understand politics, titles, or marriage
The imperial garden looked almost dreamlike during spring.
White roses climbed the marble trellises, fountains shimmered beneath golden sunlight, and noble banners fluttered gently against the palace walls. Tiny tea tables had been arranged beneath the trees specifically for the young aristocrats invited to play with the Crown Prince.
At the very center of it all stood Y/N Valemont.
Even at six years old, she carried herself like someone who had already been told the world belonged to her.
Her silvery shoes clicked proudly against the stone path as she lifted her chin.
“Well,” she declared grandly, placing both hands against her hips, “then you must all fight for my hand.”
The children stared at her expectantly.
“Because a Lady Valemont such as myself is extremely precious.”
A few of them gasped dramatically.
Then laughter erupted once more.
“You sound exactly like your mother!”
“That is because my mother is elegant,” Y/N replied proudly.
“No,” another boy snickered. “It is because you are bossy.”
“I am not bossy,” she argued immediately. “I simply know better than all of you.”
“That is the same thing!”
Before Y/N could continue defending herself, a woman’s voice suddenly interrupted the playful noise.
“Your Majesty. Young Lord Sukuna. Lady Y/N.”
The children turned together.
A woman stood several steps away, dressed modestly compared to the surrounding nobility. Her hands rested gently on the shoulders of a small child partially hidden behind her skirts.
“This is my daughter,” the woman said carefully. “Belle Ashbourne.”
The little girl shrank further behind her mother at the sight of so many noble children staring at her openly.
“My dear,” the woman encouraged softly, “come greet them properly.”
Slowly, the child stepped forward.
Her blonde hair had been neatly braided down her back, though a few loose strands framed her nervous face. Unlike the other noble daughters dressed in lace and jewels, Belle wore something much simpler—a pale cream dress with only minimal embroidery.
“H-Hello…” she whispered timidly. “I am Belle…”
The silence lasted only a second before Y/N spoke first.
“Where are your manners?” she asked bluntly. “You must bow when greeting royalty.”
Her tiny shoulders stiffened as she hurried into an awkward bow.
But before Y/N could continue, the young prince suddenly stepped forward.
“Y/N,” he said with a frown, “you should not scare her.”
“Y/N is correct,” Sukuna said with surprising firmness for a child his age. “Proper etiquette is expected of everyone, Choso. No one is exempt from offering a respectful bow.”
Choso turned toward Belle instead, his expression softening immediately.
“You may play with us,” he offered kindly. “Do not mind Lady Y/N. She enjoys acting frightening.”
“I do not!” Y/N protested loudly.
The children giggled again.
Belle hesitated before nodding carefully.
Everything began changing.
At first, it was small things.
Almost too small for anyone else to notice.
Y/N would correct Belle’s posture during tea parties.
“Commoners sit like that,” she would say haughtily. “Noble ladies straighten their backs.”
Or she would wrinkle her nose slightly whenever Belle spoke too quietly.
“You sound frightened all the time.”
Sometimes she would intentionally remind Belle of the difference between them.
“My family owns three estates near the capital,” Y/N boasted once. “Does House Ashbourne even have one?”
Belle would only lower her head every time.
The laughter stopped sounding amused.
“Belle, come be the princess in our game!”
The words made Y/N freeze.
She looked up sharply as the children gathered around Belle excitedly near the fountain.
“But Y/N is always the princess!” Sukuna step up.
“That is exactly why Belle should try,” Young Choso replied.
Y/N’s chest tightened strangely.
“But I always play the princess,” she said carefully.
No one answered immediately.
“Well… Belle looks prettier as one today.”
Something cold settled unpleasantly in Y/N’s stomach.
She laughed stiffly. “That is ridiculous.”
But the games continued without her anyway.
And little by little, things worsened.
“Y/N, stop teasing Belle all the time.”
“You made her cry again.”
“She did nothing to you.”
The words began piling up day after day until even the servants looked at her differently.
As if she had become difficult.
That somehow made everything worse.
Because every time Y/N snapped, Belle only looked down quietly while the others rushed to comfort her instead.
One afternoon, beneath the same blooming garden where they had once all laughed together, Y/N reached for the prince’s sleeve angrily.
“No,” he replied coldly for the first time. “You did.”
The boy pulled his sleeve away from her small fingers.
“I do not want to play with you anymore, Lady Valemont.”
The garden suddenly felt quieter than before.
I flinched awake at the feeling of someone gently shaking my shoulder.
“My lady,” Lyria said softly, careful not to wrinkle the fabric of my gown, “we have arrived at the banquet.”
I blinked slowly, still half trapped in the remnants of the dream.
My voice came out hoarse with sleep.
The carriage lantern swayed faintly overhead as the servants hurried to straighten my skirts and gloves before I stepped outside. Velvet brushed against my skin, jewels cool against my throat, while the muffled sound of distant music drifted through the carriage walls from the palace beyond.
But my thoughts remained elsewhere.
I frowned slightly as Lyria adjusted the ribbons at the back of my gown.
The way everyone slowly turned away from Y/N until even their laughter no longer sounded kind.
I stared absently at my reflection in the carriage window.
Or were those the real Y/N’s memories somehow surfacing inside me?
How was I even seeing them?
A quiet shiver crawled down my spine.
“How strange…” I murmured under my breath.
If those memories were real, then Y/N had honestly been a rather insufferable child.
An extremely noble one, certainly.
But insufferable nonetheless.
Everything had to follow etiquette. Tradition. Proper conduct. Even at six years old she spoke like an elderly court lady trapped inside a child’s body.
The situation had been unfair too.
Belle was simply too kind.
People always sided with the gentler person in stories like these.
“The mochis you prepared have already been delivered safely to the palace kitchens.”
I had nearly forgotten about that.
“Good,” I replied absentmindedly before pausing. “How late am I?”
“…Thirty minutes late, my lady.”
A slow smile spread across my face.
Completely intentional, of course.
There was an art to arriving late at noble banquets—especially royal ones. Too early, and one looked desperate for attention. Too late, and it became disrespectful.
Just enough for whispers to begin.
Just enough for heads to turn once I entered.
Not enough to insult the princess directly… but enough to remind the court that Y/N Valemont was still very capable of causing a scene merely by existing.
A little villainy every now and then was healthy.
Though truthfully, my confidence cracked slightly the moment I remembered why I was really here tonight.
I still had absolutely no idea who the hell he was.
No new letters had arrived since earlier either, which somehow made me more anxious instead of relieved.
No ridiculous bouquet drowning in perfume.
Which honestly felt suspicious considering how much he enjoyed disrupting my peace.
I inhaled slowly as the carriage doors finally opened.
Cold evening air swept inside immediately, carrying with it the sound of violins, distant laughter, and the endless murmur of imperial nobility gathered beyond the palace gates.
Golden lights illuminated the towering marble stairs ahead, nobles already moving elegantly through the entrance beneath banners embroidered with the royal crest.
And absolutely exhausting.
“I’m going now,” I said quietly.
Then, gathering the skirts of my gown carefully, I stepped out of the carriage.
I had a feeling this night was going to change everything.
The moment I stepped into the banquet hall, the entire room seemed to pause.
Conveniently—or perhaps intentionally—the grand ballroom had been designed with a sweeping staircase descending directly into the center of the gathering below. A cruel place to make an entrance if one feared attention.
Unfortunately for the nobility present tonight—
Crystal chandeliers bathed the hall in golden light, illuminating rows of aristocrats draped in silks, jewels, and embroidered coats stitched with their family crests. Music from the royal orchestra drifted softly through the air while servants moved carefully between guests carrying silver trays of wine and desserts.
And right at the top of those marble stairs—
The gown I wore shimmered silver beneath the candlelight, unlike anything commonly seen within the Empire.
The neckline rested elegantly off my shoulders, exposing just enough skin to make older noblewomen look moments away from fainting. The fabric hugged my figure before flowing down into layered silk, a daring slit revealing glimpses of my legs whenever I moved down the staircase.
Scandalous by imperial standards.
Exactly what I asked for.
The poor royal designer nearly had a heart attack while creating it.
“My lady,” he had whispered in horror during the fitting, “this design is far too bold for an unmarried noblewoman—”
Honestly, this body carried the dress unfairly well.
As I descended the staircase slowly, gloved fingers brushing lightly against the railing, I could already hear the whispers spreading throughout the hall.
“Oh my… what is she wearing?”
“That gown is completely improper.”
“For an unmarried lady too…”
“Since when did House Valemont allow such things?”
“…Though admittedly, it suits her.”
“She has always been beautiful.”
“She looks like a foreign duchess.”
The murmurs blended together like music.
Exactly the reaction I wanted.
By the time I reached halfway down the staircase, the ballroom had noticeably quieted.
Crown Prince Choso stood near the bottom of the stairs, dressed in dark ceremonial robes embroidered with gold thread, his expression unreadable for only a brief second before I caught it—
As I stepped onto the final stair, the prince moved forward immediately, offering his hand before the entire court.
“Lady Valemont,” he greeted smoothly. “Welcome.”
My brows lifted slightly.
I placed my gloved hand lightly into his.
“Greetings, Your Imperial Highness,” I replied with a graceful smile polished enough to fool half the Empire. “I pray I have not disrupted the festivities.”
“On the contrary,” Choso said quietly, eyes lingering for a second too long, “you seem to have become the festivities.”
Oh, this man was absolutely enchanted right now.
I could hardly blame him.
Still, the last thing I needed tonight was to accidentally repair our disastrous engagement situation.
As he helped me down the final step, I leaned slightly closer, keeping my smile perfectly pleasant for the watching nobles.
“Your Highness,” I whispered softly, “do try keeping your eyes to yourself.”
Then, before he could answer, I gently slipped my hand from his grasp and continued walking.
Behind me, I could practically feel the stares burning through the back of my dress.
“You look stunning, Lady Valemont.”
“That gown is magnificent.”
“I have never seen imperial silk tailored that way before.”
“The silver suits you beautifully.”
Compliments followed me across the ballroom from nearly every direction now. Even nobles who clearly disapproved still couldn’t stop staring.
I understood why Y/N enjoyed attention so much.
There was something intoxicating about commanding an entire room without raising your voice once.
As I approached the center platform where the royal family sat, Princess Nobara spotted me almost instantly.
“Your Royal Highness,” I began smoothly, “may this birthday bring prosperity, happiness, and long life upon the Empire and—”
The princess was already stuffing her face with the mochis I had prepared earlier.
My smile twitched slightly.
“…Please enjoy the mochis I made for you.”
Nobara looked up immediately, cheeks visibly full.
“Lady Valemont!” she exclaimed. “You are late!”
“I sincerely apologize for—”
“Do not apologize,” she interrupted dismissively, waving one hand dramatically. “Entering my banquet dressed like this is already more entertaining than half the guests here.”
Several nobles nearby gasped quietly.
Nobara leaned forward excitedly.
“You must tell me who designed that gown,” she demanded. “I want one immediately.”
Another wave of murmurs spread throughout the ballroom.
A royal princess openly praising such an unconventional gown meant society would now hesitate before criticizing it openly again.
Fashion within noble society spread through royal approval faster than law itself.
“Of course, Your Highness. I shall arrange one to be delivered to your palace.”
Nobara nodded enthusiastically before immediately returning to her mochis.
That might have been the easiest royal interaction I’d had all week.
I exhaled quietly, allowing my gaze to drift across the crowded ballroom once more.
Servants rushed between tables.
Music echoed beneath the chandeliers.
And somewhere in this overwhelming hall—
Birdy was supposed to be here.
I narrowed my eyes slightly.
Where exactly was that damned bird?
I sneezed again for what felt like the hundredth time that evening.
Honestly, this was becoming humiliating.
I sighed quietly, pressing my fingers against the bridge of my nose as another servant passed by with silver trays of champagne. The orchestra continued playing elegant waltzes in the center of the ballroom while nobles danced beneath glittering chandeliers, entirely unaware that I was apparently dying from airborne flowers.
As I took another sip of champagne, I remained seated alone near the edge of the hall.
For all of Y/N Valemont’s beauty, wealth, and influence… she still sat alone at noble gatherings.
Because society could forgive many things—pride, cruelty, arrogance, even scandal to some degree.
But once people decided your personality was unpleasant?
I swirled the champagne lightly in my glass, gaze drifting absentmindedly across the ballroom.
Truthfully, in the original novel, Y/N Valemont was never even meant to attend this banquet. She had already fallen too far from grace by this point in the story.
Yet because of some ridiculous mochis I made on impulse…
Still part of the narrative.
“I would rather not have attended at all,” I muttered softly to myself.
As my thoughts wandered, my gaze suddenly caught on someone standing across the ballroom.
For a brief second, relief softened my expression.
Surely she of all people might still approach me despite the tension between us—
But then our eyes met properly.
Because the look Belle gave me was not kind.
I blinked slowly, caught entirely off guard.
That expression had been real.
Another sneeze interrupted my spiraling thoughts.
I groaned quietly into my hand.
What even was causing it?
A hand suddenly appeared in front of me.
A neatly folded handkerchief rested between slender fingers.
Startled, I looked up immediately.
The words escaped louder than intended.
The young general blinked at my reaction, almost looking offended.
“My lady,” he said dryly, “forgive me for attempting kindness.”
I immediately straightened.
“No, I— that is not—I simply did not expect—”
Sukuna’s lips twitched slightly as though amused by my rare loss of composure.
“I noticed you have been sneezing repeatedly,” he explained calmly. “It was beginning to sound painful.”
Slowly, I accepted the handkerchief from him.
The last thing I expected tonight was to interact with Sukuna of all people.
“Thank you,” I said more quietly this time.
Now that he stood closer beneath the ballroom lights, I finally noticed the details of his attire properly.
Not the deep imperial colors he usually preferred.
It suited him disgustingly well.
The tailored military coat emphasized his broad frame while silver embroidery caught against the candlelight each time he moved. Combined with his pink hair, the look should have clashed horribly.
Instead, it only made him more striking.
“And here,” Sukuna added, reaching into his coat before handing me a small polished container.
I frowned slightly. “What is this?”
“Medicine,” he answered simply before taking a sip from his own glass. “For allergies.”
“Roses? Me?” I shook my head lightly. “I do not think I’m allergic to roses.”
Sukuna raised a brow slowly.
“My lady,” he said carefully, “you have sneezed seventeen times since entering the ballroom.”
I snorted before I could stop myself.
To my surprise, the corner of his mouth lifted slightly in response.
Then he extended his hand toward me.
“There is less pollen outside,” he said. “Come to the balcony. I shall help you apply the medicine properly.”
I stared at his offered hand for a second too long before finally placing mine against his gloved palm.
As he helped me stand, Sukuna leaned slightly closer, voice lowering just enough that only I could hear.
“And forgive my manners, Lady Y/N,” he murmured with the faintest hint of teasing, “but you look beautiful tonight for an evil noblewoman.”
“There she is,” I replied. “The terrifying young general everyone warns me about.”
His eyes gleamed with amusement.
“And you,” I continued, glancing deliberately at his silver attire, “silver is absolutely not your color. Especially with pink hair.”
Sukuna looked genuinely offended for half a second.
“Well,” he sighed dramatically, “someone insisted I wear it tonight.”
My smile froze instantly.
Birdy asked to wear silver.
Sukuna was wearing silver.
The laughter died in my throat as we stepped onto the balcony together.
The moment the balcony doors shut behind us, the noise of the ballroom dulled into distant music and muffled laughter.
Cold night air brushed against my skin instantly, carrying the scent of rain and roses from the royal gardens below.
For a brief second, neither of us spoke.
Sukuna leaned one arm lazily against the marble railing, the silver embroidery of his uniform catching beneath the moonlight while the city below glittered in the distance.
Then I finally found my voice.
The sudden sharpness in his voice completely cut me off
Gone was the composed young general from the ballroom.
Gone was the amused nobleman politely handing me medicine.
Instead, Sukuna looked genuinely irritated.
“You do not answer the letters I send,” he began coldly, glaring down at me, “you refuse to follow the original plan, suddenly involve yourself with the Duke of the North of all people, and somehow fail to mention that you are severely allergic to roses?”
I stared at him speechlessly as he continued.
“Do you enjoy making people lose years off their lives worrying over you?” he snapped. “Your allergy will worsen if you keep surrounding yourself with those damned flowers.”
He exhaled sharply through his nose before adding,
“Get rid of the roses in your chambers.”
The command came out harsh.
But beneath it lingered unmistakable concern.
That made me even more confused.
“I know you enjoy pretending to be some cruel noblewoman,” Sukuna continued, narrowing his eyes at me, “but not even visiting your young general after his return from war?”
Despite the insult, warmth still lingered in his gaze.
And that only made my mind spiral further.
The mysterious person Y/N had exchanged letters with for five years.
The one constantly teasing her.
My thoughts nearly short-circuited.
“H-How…” I whispered before I could stop myself.
Sukuna frowned immediately.
“What do you mean ‘how’?”
Because this made absolutely no sense.
In the novel, Sukuna hated Y/N Valemont.
He was supposed to despise everything she represented—her arrogance, her noble status, the way she tormented Belle.
“What exactly is wrong with you tonight?” Sukuna interrupted suddenly.
“…Did the Crown Prince do something again?”
The temperature around him seemed to drop instantly.
“Besides poisoning you,” he added dangerously.
The sheer murderous fury in his voice genuinely startled me.
Sukuna’s jaw tightened visibly.
“If that Crown Prince were not essential to our plans,” he muttered darkly, veins faintly visible along his forehead, “I would have killed him in front of the Emperor and Empress already.”
No wonder Y/N got along with this man.
Both of them sounded slightly insane.
“E-Ehem…” I cleared my throat awkwardly. “S-Sukuna, His Highness has done nothing recently. I have simply been… occupied.”
Sukuna stared at me silently.
Unfortunately, I was a terrible liar under pressure.
“I-I just…” I stammered helplessly. “Things have been complicated and—”
His voice softened unexpectedly.
The sudden gentleness caught me off guard more than the anger did.
“If you wish to change the plan,” Sukuna said quietly, “then change it.”
The moonlight reflected faintly against his eyes as he looked at me.
“I have no intention of forcing you.”
He sighed, irritation returning faintly as if he hated sounding sincere for too long.
“Just give me a proper warning next time instead of disappearing and making reckless decisions alone,” he muttered. “I can only tolerate so much nonsense from you.”
My chest tightened strangely.
But beneath every insult, every complaint, every irritated glare…
Five years of standing beside Y/N despite everything written in the original story.
And for the first time since arriving in this world—
That dangerous warmth blooming quietly inside my chest.
Someone was finally choosing me.
“We should return inside.”
Sukuna pushed himself away from the balcony railing and held the door open for me. Warm light from the ballroom spilled onto the marble floor, carrying with it the sound of violins and the low murmur of nobles gathered beneath crystal chandeliers.
“I still need to speak with Lady Ashbourne.”
My brows furrowed slightly.
The way he spoke of her sounded casual, almost expected. Yet it only left me more confused.
If Belle was truly important to him, then what were those letters?
Five years of correspondence.
Five years of calling Y/N “Princess” and threatening her whenever she ignored him.
Nothing about this matched the story I remembered.
“…Alright,” I said slowly. “But we need to meet afterward.”
“There are things we need to discuss.”
Things I desperately needed answers to.
His gaze lingered on me for a moment before a faint smirk tugged at his lips.
“You’re finally speaking like yourself again.”
Before I could ask what he meant by that, he continued.
His voice lowered slightly.
Another piece of Y/N’s life I knew nothing about.
I stepped through the doorway and immediately turned to question him—
Only to find him already walking away.
I stared after him for a moment.
For a brief second, I remained near the ballroom entrance.
The comfort Sukuna’s presence had given me faded quickly beneath the weight of dozens of eyes.
That much could not be helped.
Y/N Valemont’s reputation had not been built in a single day, and it certainly would not disappear after one banquet.
I exhaled quietly and began walking through the crowd.
Unfortunately, I walked directly into someone.
“Your Imperial Highness,” I greeted politely. “To what do I owe the honor?”
A smile played on Choso’s lips.
“I came to compliment your gift.”
“That sounds suspiciously like an insult.”
His smile widened slightly.
Something in his voice made me stop.
For the first time that evening, he looked genuinely serious.
My confusion deepened “The roses?”
“I had forgotten about your allergy.”
His gaze lowered briefly.
“I’ve already instructed the servants to remove them discreetly.”
Why was he acting like this?
The Choso from the novel was never attentive toward Y/N. He was supposed to be focused entirely on Belle.
Yet here he was worrying about flowers.
“Your Highness,” I said carefully, “you should concern yourself less with me.”
“And more with the stain on your collar.”
His hand immediately rose toward his neck.
A faint mark stained the fabric of his formal attire.
“My mochi appears to have defeated imperial dignity.”
To my surprise, he looked embarrassed.
He cleared his throat. “I shall return shortly.”
Then he quickly excused himself.
I released a relieved sigh
Only for a scream to tear through the ballroom.
Conversations died instantly.
A glass shattered somewhere.
The crowd surged toward one side of the hall.
Nobles abandoned all decorum as they rushed forward. Ladies rose from their seats. Servants hurried through the crowd. Panic spread through the ballroom in seconds.
“Lady Ashbourne has collapsed!”
“The lady is coughing blood!”
The crowd swallowed her from view.
I immediately pushed forward.
So did the Crown Prince, who had somehow returned and was already moving through the gathering nobles.
When I finally reached the front, my breath caught.
Belle lay collapsed against the marble floor.
Her body trembled weakly as a maid desperately tried to support her.
His expression had become frighteningly cold.
The very same mochi I had gifted earlier that evening.
Slowly, whispers began spreading through the crowd.
“Wasn’t that Lady Valemont’s gift?”
“She ate Lady Valemont’s mochi.”
One by one, heads turned.
Because I knew exactly what everyone was thinking.
The notorious Lady Y/N Valemont.
The Empire’s infamous villainess.
The woman with a history of conflict with Belle Ashbourne.
And now the heroine of the story had collapsed after eating something connected to her.
It didn’t matter whether I was innocent.
It didn’t matter what the truth was.
The scene had already been written.
And I had just been placed at the center of it.
“What is the meaning of this?!”
Princess Nobara's voice cut through the chaos like a blade.
The entire ballroom fell silent.
Nobles immediately parted, creating a path as the princess hurried toward the center of the commotion, her expensive skirts dragging across polished marble floors.
At the center of it all lay Belle.
The young woman looked as though a strong breeze could carry her away.
A handkerchief stained with blood rested against her trembling lips as another cough escaped her.
Beside her knelt Crown Prince Choso and General Sukuna.
For some reason, my stomach dropped.
The whispers had already begun.
People were starting to look at me.
Princess Nobara's face darkened as she took in the scene.
“Who dares cause such disorder during my birthday banquet?” she demanded.
“I believe Lady Belle has been poisoned.”
The words echoed throughout the ballroom.
Sukuna looked directly at me.
The entire room followed his gaze.
Just moments ago we had been speaking on the balcony.
Just moments ago he had been worried about my allergies.
“Y-Your Highness...” Belle's weak voice interrupted.
Everyone's attention shifted back to her.
The sight almost made my chest tighten.
Belle looked utterly miserable.
Her golden hair had come loose from its braids.
Tears clung to her lashes.
Blood stained her handkerchief.
She looked less like a noble lady and more like a wounded bird struggling to stay conscious.
“Forgive me...” she whispered. “I did not mean to disturb the celebration...”
Several noblewomen gasped.
“Do not speak,” Choso said immediately.
The Crown Prince's voice carried a sharpness I had never heard before.
“The royal physician is already on the way.”
Belle lowered her head obediently.
Looking exactly like the heroine everyone wanted to protect.
Princess Nobara exhaled heavily.
Her gaze moved between Belle and the growing crowd.
“I trust the two of you will uncover what happened.”
Then her eyes shifted briefly.
Yet it felt like a knife against my throat.
The princess looked away first.
“Take Lady Belle somewhere private.”
Without another word, she departed with Belle and several attendants following closely behind.
The moment they disappeared—
“I knew Lady Valemont could not change.”
“She was always jealous of Lady Belle.”
“What else would motivate such behavior?”
Every accusation struck harder than the last.
Because I was Y/N Valemont.
And Y/N Valemont was always the villain.
The command thundered through the ballroom.
Everyone flinched. Including me.
His expression had become unreadable.
As though the conversation we'd shared on the balcony had never happened.
“A poisoning investigation is not a matter for gossip,” he said.
His voice carried through the hall effortlessly.
“Even nobles will be held accountable should they interfere.”
The whispers died instantly.
Yet somehow his words only made my chest hurt more.
Because he wasn't looking at me anymore.
“Until the matter is resolved,” Choso continued, stepping forward, “everyone will refrain from consuming the mochi served this evening.”
Every eye turned toward me.
The pressure became unbearable.
“Refrain from consuming any food personally prepared by Lady Valemont until the investigation concludes.”
A collective gasp swept through the room.
I thought he was on my side.
The realization hurt more than I expected.
Because what could I even say?
And the last thing she'd eaten was the mochi I made.
Every piece of evidence pointed toward me.
Whether I was innocent or not hardly mattered.
The story had already chosen its villain.
“Everyone may continue enjoying the banquet,” Choso announced.
No one was thinking about dancing anymore.
Then Sukuna turned toward me.
For the first time since the accusation.
His voice was official now, like speaking to a suspect.
“You will accompany us for questioning.”
The room seemed to close around me.
The grand doors burst open.
The sound echoed throughout the ballroom.
Every head snapped toward the entrance.
The Herald nearly stumbled over his own feet in his haste.
“His Grace, the Duke of the North—Duke Gojo Satoru of House Gojo!”
The crowd parted instinctively.
Dressed entirely in silver.
The candlelight seemed to bend around him.
The silver embroidery of northern wolves gleamed across his coat while nobles unconsciously stepped aside to make room.
His reputation entered the room before he did.
The Duke who ruled the North.
The Duke who ignored imperial politics.
The Duke rumored to possess enough military power to challenge the throne itself.
Even Choso looked surprised.
For a brief moment—Everyone forgot about me.
Forgot about Belle. Forgot about the poisoning.
Because the Duke's presence swallowed the room whole.
Gojo's gaze swept across the ballroom.
Standing alone, Surrounded and Accused.
The temperature of the room seemed to drop.
The Duke took one step forward.
The sound of his boots echoed through the deathly silence.
When he finally spoke, his voice was calm.
Which somehow made it terrifying.
Gojo's eyes settled upon the Crown Prince.
Then the gathered nobles.
“One would think the Imperial Family possessed enough intelligence to conduct an investigation before publicly condemning a woman.”
“A woman who now bears the name of House Gojo.”
The commotion became ten times worse.
