The Perks of Being a Villainess

Chapter 2

It’s Convenient Being a Villainess

I was unconscious for a long time following the accident. When I came to, I found myself blinking stupidly around at my unfamiliar surroundings. I was lying on a bed with a white canopy above it to block out the sun. The bed was so big that it could probably fit at least seven grown adults.

Where in the world am I? I stared blankly at the curtains, which were embroidered with delicate snakes and roses in gold thread. Recalling the accident that had knocked me out in the first place, I quickly struggled to sit upright.

I was so sure I’d felt my bones being crushed and my muscles tearing after the accident, yet here I sat, completely uninjured. I felt no pain anywhere, and as I clumsily ran my hands over my body, my hands met a pair of large, soft breasts.

“Wh-what in the world?”

I examined my body, deeply confused, then rolled out of bed and rushed to the mirror. I gasped upon seeing my reflection—it wasn’t my own face I found staring back at me, but one belonging to a beautiful girl with a fierce gaze. The girl in the mirror had luscious lavender hair and red eyes, giving her a unique appearance.

She’s so pretty… I stared in awe for a few long moments, taken aback by her beauty. Then I slapped myself on the cheek several times, trying to gather myself. The stunning girl in the mirror’s cheeks were soon red and swollen, but there was nothing to be done about it—I needed to wake up from this stupid dream.

“Ow… That hurts.” Why aren’t I waking up? Have I lost my mind? The pain seemed far too real for this to be just a dream. At that moment I heard a piercing scream.

I turned to find a bowl of porridge flung across the floor and a woman wearing a stereotypical maid’s uniform fallen back on her bottom beside it, her face pale with fear. She bowed her head in apology as soon as our eyes met.

“I’m sorry! I-I saw nothing, my lady. Please, forgive my impudence. Pray be merciful, Lady Deborah.”

Deborah? Why does that sound familiar? Realization hit me like a lightning bolt, and I suddenly remembered where I knew that name from. Deborah was the name of the villainess in A Dark Thorn Through My Throat, an X-rated reverse-harem web novel that had an extremely tragic storyline. I’d paid to read every episode until the author had put the novel on hiatus.

Deborah was a villainess through and through, created by the author for the sole purpose of giving the female protagonist a hard time. The top-rated comments on the novel were always ones cursing her out.

I knew it made no sense, but there was no other explanation that I could think of—I’d been transported into the novel. My cheeks stung far more than they should were this a dream, my vision was crystal clear, and I still had the same hair and eye color as Deborah—a woman who should have only existed inside the novel.

As I stood there processing what was happening, a handsome middle-aged man with fierce, angry eyes entered the room. “What is it this time?”

When I locked eyes with the man’s icy silver-gray gaze, fragments of Deborah’s memories seemed to drift into my mind. The man standing before me was Deborah’s father, Duke Georgeois Seymour. He was a high-ranking Grand Mage, considered to be in the top five of the many geniuses the extensive Seymour line had produced.

His body was lithe, belying his age, and his temperament was as cold as his fearsome appearance might suggest. The only person the duke had ever opened up to was his wife, Marienne Seymour, but she had died giving birth to their youngest child, Henrique. After that, the man had returned to his former glacial state.

“You foolish girl,” Duke Seymour snapped, glaring down at me like I was the scum of the earth. The family reputation was extremely important to him, and he despised his daughter, who seemed to rise to new levels of atrociously bad behavior on a daily basis. “Ha! As if purposely starving yourself wasn’t enough, now you’re trying to harm yourself?”

He clasped my red and swollen cheeks between his hands.

“Your resemblance to your mother is your only redeeming trait, you know,” he said. “To think you would resort to something like this over a damned jewel of all things! You are a disgrace to the Seymour family name.”

According to the fragmented memories I’d gained, Deborah had caused a huge ruckus, demanding to be gifted a pink diamond necklace—of which only one existed in the entire empire. A few days ago, she’d chosen to starve herself in protest when she was denied her wish.

Now Duke Seymour seemed to be under the impression that I was trying to hurt myself as a new strategy to get my way.

“There is a limit to my patience, even for my daughter! This is your final warning. Stay in your room for the time being, and stay out of trouble,” Duke Seymour shouted, teeth grinding together in fury. With his eyes glowing coldly, he shoved my face away and stormed from the room.

I stared after the man in shock, then heaved a deep sigh. Wait a second, what sort of father is that handsome— I mean, ill-tempered? I’d felt his terrible anger throughout my entire body, which was even now still quivering in fear. I moved over to the bed on shaky legs, but then very nearly screamed with surprise.

The maid had crawled over to me, still begging for forgiveness, unwilling to stop until I responded. “Forgive me! I’m so terribly sorry. Please forgive me just this once.” She began to slam her forehead against the ground so hard that blood splattered all around her.

I was suddenly struck hard with the knowledge that I was really trapped inside a tragedy novel, and inside the body of the villainess at that. There was no room for human rights in this world.

“Oh, all right… Just get out.” My voice came out grim and subdued since I was so tense.

She shouted her thanks at me over and over, before cleaning the porridge from the floor and rushing from the room. I felt fatigue wash over me as soon as she was gone and slid to the floor right where I stood.

Wow. This is ludicrous. I’d lived my entire life as a pushover and died at the bitter-sweet age of just twenty-four, only to find myself in the body of this character. Why her? There were plenty of other characters. Why did it have to be Deborah?

I covered my face with my hands, fighting off the despair that threatened to swallow me. I flopped onto my bed, pressed my eyes shut, and hoped that I’d wake up in the morning to find that this had all been just a bad dream.

* * *

I was still the contemptuous Deborah when I opened my eyes the next morning. But then again… This whole situation is going a lot better than I imagined it would.

It had already been ten days since I’d entered Deborah’s body, and surprisingly, I was adapting to life as Deborah Seymour quite nicely. I’d expected living as the amalgamation of all that was wicked and evil would be difficult, but so far that didn’t actually seem to be the case.

There was almost no effort involved since everything’s been arranged to cater to my every whim. I slept in until late every morning on my large, comfortable bed. When I felt hungry, I could ring a bell and a servant would immediately bring breakfast.

“This is yummy…” I muttered to myself without realizing I was speaking out loud, munching on a pastry that seemed like it was melting on my tongue.

The servant, hearing my muttered praise, dashed out of the room, returning with a basket full of various similar baked goods.

No way. Their reaction time is out of this world. A muttered word from me and anything I needed would be delivered directly to my room. The servants functioned like a well-trained army, extremely careful not to light the short fuse that was Deborah’s temper.

Well, this is much better than having servants that refuse to do as they’re told. Nodding to myself, I plucked a round bun from the pile of pastries and covered it with copious amounts of raspberry jam. I was a bread-lover, and the food here was well-suited to my taste.

“My lady, would you like some more?”

“No. Get out.” I wasn’t comfortable with anyone watching me while I ate, so I copied the way Deborah spoke to the servants based on the few incomplete memories I had access to, in order to get some privacy.

The figs, arranged prettily in a bowl, were extremely fresh, and the mushroom soup was delicious. When I was done with my lovely breakfast, an attendant poured me some fragrant tea. I’d never been to a five-star hotel, but felt like the room service at one would be something like this.

Clutching a beautiful vintage teacup in my hand, I glanced out the window, looking toward where birds were chirping pleasantly.

What a lovely, relaxing morning. I don’t think I’d ever felt so at peace in the entire twenty-four years I’d spent alive. My home had been a battleground most mornings. The house I grew up in was small, and given that there were three children living there, the mornings had been chaotic.

My brother had a room all to himself, but I’d shared one with my older sister. She was a morning person and always turned on the light and loudly blow-dried her hair while I was still trying to sleep. The sound of that hair dryer had very nearly driven me insane. Since I was a night owl, it had been especially hard for me to endure.

“Yoon Dohee, I’m wearing this, all right?”

Clothing that I’d saved money for weeks to buy would often end up being stolen by my sister.

“You wear my clothes too, you know.”

She’d loved to remind me, despite only ever leaving clothes for me to use that were stretched in the collars or too small for her. Being naive as I was, I’d never been able to get angry with my sister and simply had to live with it.

“Sis, I’m in a bit of a hurry. I need to use the bathroom first.”

After being forced awake by my sister’s nonsense, I’d go to the bathroom only to be cut off by my brother. There was only one bathroom in the house, so I was always forced to wait. And that bastard always made a huge mess around the toilet, forcing me to clean up after him every morning.

I was used to mornings spent in this every woman for themselves manner, so this new relaxed morning routine made me feel like I was on a luxury vacation.

“Stay in your room for the time being, and keep out of trouble!”

I laughed thinking back on Duke Seymour’s warning. If he thought this was a punishment, I’d love to remain grounded for the rest of my life.

Being this comfortable makes me feel so relaxed. Putting aside my concerns about the future for the moment, I watched the snow drifting slowly down from the sky.

By the time I’d digested my breakfast, more attendants had brought some water for me to wash my face with. They then helped me dress. After I’d been strapped into my petticoat and corset, a line of people holding fancy dresses filed in.

Oh, come to think of it, Deborah ordered some new dresses last month. The scattered memories I’d received told me that Deborah loved shopping and went downtown often to buy expensive clothes and accessories. Staying on top of the trends when it came to dresses and gems so she could show off her beauty and wealth was one of her favorite pastimes.

I wasn’t able to leave at the moment thanks to the duke’s orders, but the attendants had successfully transformed my room into the VIP lounge in a department store. Deborah’s life was on a completely different level from my old one.