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I'm the Original Heroine !

This is unfair. Looking at the mirror, it was obvious to see that the reflection was that of a pink-haired girl with bright green eyes. Delicate features and an angelic smile, the original heroine of the book, "A Flower to You." But, I'm not in the book, "A Flower to You." I'm in the novel, "The Lovable Villainess" and I'm the original female lead who is overshadowed by the villainess!

saemi · Kỳ huyễn
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29 Chs

08

"Ceasaria was never a true member of the Valentine family." — Chapter Fourteen, Lovable Villainess

...

I was trying to understand what my reality was. The man in front of me wasn't mentioned. Cain Valentine. I had never heard of someone like him, along with Mina. There were no other women mentioned near Aramus, other than me and Kalypso. We were the only two, the supposed adopted daughters of Duke Valentine.

The story went like this. I was found first, but despite all I did, I was never adopted by the Valentine family. Kalypso was the daughter of one of Aramus' friends, and thus, she was brought in to be raised by Aramus. He did so without complaints, giving her lavish gifts and money but never love. That was only given to me. Thus, Kalypso grew resentful of me, trying to be wicked and evil. But one day, she woke up and completely changed.

She started to cook in the kitchens, apologize to me, and sweetly treat the staff and everyone else around her with kindness. Aramus was intrigued by her differences, why wasn't she the evil vengeful woman from before? She brought him hand-baked apple tarts and giggled with him as she melted his stone-cold heart.

Kalypso quickly became endearing and I was not. There wasn't much about me, I remembered. All I knew was that I wasn't what Kalypso remembered me to be. I wasn't the angelic sweet saccharine girl that the book had told her about, no, I was convincing. Masterfully creating situations that the quick-witted Kalypso found her way out of.

Her charming shift in personality created a harem of men dedicated to her.

I was cast aside. Aramus loved her. Everyone loved her. I was deeply unlovable.

"You walk slow," Cain commented. My legs were struggling to keep up with him. I was a lot shorter, and he was tall. He must have inherited that from Aramus for he was also extremely tall. I remembered the books describing how handsome Aramus was and even in his youth, he had broken many hearts. Cain was a spinning image of his father despite his cold onyx eyes.

"I apologize," I responded back, blinking, "I'll walk faster."

Cain shook his head, "Let me just carry you. It'll be a lot faster." He hesitated. "Can I?"

I was surprised but I gave a nod. He seemed to hesitate once more, "You can." I verbalized.

"I know," Cain responded, "I just don't want to hurt you. You seem to be bruised all over."

In the short time in which I knew Cain, I could see that he was quite blunt. Extremely to the point, and despite that, he was quite kind. Intelligent, he was quizzical about everything, but his social skills left a lot lacking. I wondered how many women had tried to flirt with him only to feel as though they were facing a brick wall.

Shaking my head, I simply opened my arms, "It won't hurt."

Cain nodded, he believed me as he swept me up in his arms. It didn't hurt. At least, that was what I thought. I realized that the pain was gone. At least, I couldn't feel it anymore. I blinked. I knew that I was in pain like there was a small part of me that knew, but it felt as though I was disconnected from all of it.

When did it start?

When did I stop feeling pain?

"Does it hurt?" Cain asked, his eyes looking worried. He had never treated someone so small before. He had always liked animals and small things, but due to his stature, they always ran away. He tried to be as comfortable as possible, "I'm not very good at this. I'll look at better methods of holding you."

"I'm comfortable," I answered back, "It doesn't hurt."

I wasn't lying. Opening the door, I gazed at the doctor in front of me. She was an older woman, her hair turning gray with deep brown eyes. She looked kind as her lips formed an amicable smile, "The two of you look quite close."

"I just carried her because she was slow," Cain answered, setting me down in the chair. I nodded in response. He fidgeted, waiting as the doctor's brown eyes observed my arm, watching her scale the latticework of bruises upon my body made me feel somewhat uncomfortable.

"Heir Apparent," She said, smiling, "Would you mind grabbing some capable maids and getting a bath run?"

"I should stay here," Cain said, "Father s—"

The doctor gave him a look and sighed, "I must inspect her back, I don't think Heir Apparent should be here for that."

Cain blinked before nodding, "I'll be back alright?" He questioned.

I nodded.

Cain Valentine was kind. I didn't expect that. Despite being quite blunt and extremely straight-laced he seemed to be quite nice. Once the two of us were alone, she turned to me. "My name is Esme," she introduced, "May I ask for your name?"

"Ceasaria," I answered back. I didn't know my last name.

"What a beautiful name," she answered kneeling, "May I take off your shirt? I need to see the extent of the bruising."

I nodded.

Esme didn't deal with children. She couldn't. Her age had gotten the best of her frail fickle heart. She was glad that this house was filled with adults, and thus, when she saw Cain holding the young pink-haired girl, Esme's heart dropped. She could see the abuse, smell it upon her as if she held the stench of death. Her body was bruised beyond belief and she wondered if she peeled away the ratty shirt that she had on if there would be more.

There was.

Esme did her best to control her expression and as I hugged the pillow, I could see. Glossy tears threatened to spill.

"Tell me if it hurts, Ceasaria." Her voice was still stable, thick with emotion. I pretended not to see.

The bruising covered almost every part of her body. She could see the glass embedded against the skin, dried blood curling around the fractals and the trace desperate attempts of her body trying to heal before it simply gave up. Her legs were littered with raw wounds, bruising, and welts. Esme didn't know where to begin. To pick out the glass shards would take far too long, some of them had started to heal around and some of them were still bleeding as if the skin was healed and broken again and again.

"It doesn't hurt," I said. I wasn't even strong. It really didn't hurt.