I, The Villainess, Will Seduce All The Heroines Instead-Chapter 28: Boytoy or... Girltoy? (2)

Noah was the reason Beatrice had ended up like this. He had no desire to remain a mere peasant forever, and part of his plan involved molding Beatrice to his advantage.

The girl, starved of any male attention, had fallen for it.

He showered her with sweet words, told her she was beautiful, precious, desirable.

That women were meant to love, to be adored, to give themselves completely.

And so, she had, offering him her first time, believing that this was love.

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Then one of her sisters caught wind of it. Seduced him. Took him.

It was the central tragedy of the fourth volume of the novel—Beatrice's heartbreak.

The moment she realized how "ugly" she was. How utterly replaceable.

The story opened with a scene, her standing thereas she caught him with her sister in bed.

If she had to guess, they were minutes away from tumbling into bed together.

And then he would seduce her.

And then they would do the deed.

Over my dead body.

"I'm thirsty," Verena announced, flipping her hair dramatically. "I'd love a drink."

Beatrice blinked. "Oh, um, I can just call my maid—"

"No need." Verena smiled sweetly and pointed straight at Noah. "I want him to get it. Now. I hate waiting."

Noah's face paled. "A-Ah, of course, Lady Verena! Right away!" He turned on his heel, rushing toward the door—

"Wait!"

He stopped so fast he nearly tripped over his own feet.

"I've changed my mind," Verena mused. "I want fresh spring water. From the northern well."

If she was destined to be the villainess, then so be it. She'd own the role.

No more playing it cool. No more pretending to be some saintly, misunderstood heroine.

If the world expected her to be vile, she'd be delightfully so.

Beatrice gawked. "That's... Noah, you don't have to—"

"No, no. He must," Verena leaned back in her chair, lazily inspecting her nails. "And make sure it's exactly three degrees colder than room temperature. My delicate constitution demands it."

Noah let out a strangled sound. "B-But the well is—"

"Chop, chop!" She waved her hand dismissively.

With a pained expression, he hurried off.

Five minutes later, as Beatrice shot her an unimpressed look, Noah returned, soaked in sweat, holding a single glass of water.

"Here, L-Lady Verena," he wheezed.

Verena took a slow, dramatic sip. Then spit it right back out.

"Ugh. This is disgusting!" She slammed the glass down. "You absolute failure of a servant!"

Noah looked like he might cry. "W-What—?"

"Did I not specify three degrees colder? This is at least four degrees colder! Are you trying to assassinate me with temperature shock?!"

"I—I don't—how would I even measure that—?"

"Hmph. Fine," Verena sighed dramatically. "Since you clearly can't handle such a simple task, I'll give you something easier. Peel me a single grape."

"...A single—?"

"With your teeth."

Beatrice choked.

Noah whimpered.

"And while you're at it, I also want a fresh bouquet of night lilies, a roast pheasant seasoned with twelve rare spices, and...oh! A handwritten essay on why I, Lady Verena, am the most stunning woman you have ever had the honor of serving. At least five pages. Single-spaced."

After a few more rounds of utterly ridiculous demands, the boy was finally shooed away, probably off to rethink his entire existence.

Outside the door, he was getting scolded for his incompetence, even though absolutely none of it was his fault.

Verena just huffed, lounging back as she sipped her tea like a pampered empress.

"Mission success..."