I, The Villainess, Will Seduce All The Heroines Instead
Chapter 119: Everything Is Cold (Part Two: Raphael’s P.O.V.)

Chapter 119: Everything Is Cold (Part Two: Raphael’s P.O.V.)

He didn’t fully grasp what he had just declared—only that he was exhausted.

Tired of duty, of pretense, of playing the part carved out for him since birth. He knew it was cruel, perhaps even unforgivable.

He was the villain in this moment, and he accepted it.

Then, unexpectedly...

Verena kissed Evelyn on the cheek.

"I don’t know what you’re talking about... Me and Evelyn are friends... right?"

Something had shifted in her. Since the moment she ran off, Verena had returned with a strange light in her eyes, saying things completely out of character. S

He spoke with a casualness that bordered on reckless—so unlike the stern, tradition-bound girl he once knew.

She was... informal. Almost foolish.

And somehow, that unsettled him more than war ever had.

But he refused to let himself waver. Maybe he was overthinking it, reading too much into her change.

"But since you’ve so boldly declared our engagement over," Verena said, tilting her head, her voice laced with feigned innocence, "could it be... that you’ve set your sights on someone else?"

Raphael stiffened, his jaw tightening. "I have. On the very woman you’re clinging to."

"Raphael! What is the meaning of this?!"

"This is disgraceful behavior!" Norvan barked.

Indeed it was, brother.

"Enough!" Verena snapped, tossing her hair back with deliberate flair. "Can you not see how you’re terrifying our dear Evelyn? And here I thought both of you claimed to care for her."

Again—words that didn’t belong in Verena’s mouth. What was happening to her?

Why did she keep changing with each passing day?

It was maddening.

During the entrance exam, Raphael sought Evelyn out again. At least now, freed from the shackles of their broken engagement, he had nothing to restrain him. It was foolish, he knew—but no one dared to stop him.

"Y-Your Grace! Where are you touching me?! Not there!"

"Be a good girl, will you?"

Then, a familiar rhythm of heels against stone echoed behind him. That brisk, fiery pace. He knew it instantly.

This woman hadn’t changed at all.

"V-Verena?!" Raphael’s voice cracked, his face twisting. "How dare you! Our engagement is over—you can’t just—"

"Oh, please," she cut in with a scoff, brushing him off. "Don’t flatter yourself. I’m not here because of you."

She wasn’t? Then why—?

"That is not how you prove love, Sir Raphael," Verena said, voice turning cold and clear as cut glass. "If you can’t respect her boundaries now, what makes you think you’ll honor them in marriage? She is not something to be claimed. She is not a conquest. She is a person."

Rage swelled in his chest, not because she was wrong, but because she was right, and he hated being corrected by her of all people.

The humiliation stung, the weight of her gaze heavier than any blade he’d faced on the battlefield.

All he could manage was a quiet, bitter, "I’m sorry," before turning on his heel and walking away, suspicious of this sudden change.

This strange behavior persisted, a cycle repeating itself until Evelyn began to distance herself from him.

On the second floor of the school, gazing out at the view, he reached out to touch the girl’s hair—only for her to flinch away.

"A-Ah... I’m sorry..."

What just happened?

She would always love his touches...

Or did she?

Then, one day, Verena was announced as the Conduitor of Ophiuchus.

Everyone had assumed she was nothing more than an overconfident woman with no power, but that day, she shattered all those expectations, including his own.

The lines between truth and illusion blurred. Everything had become absurd.

Verena had asked him to be her instructor in combat.

And somehow, in a practice session, she managed to land a hit on him.

It was... interesting.

Truly interesting.

Day by day, the woman who had once been so wrong proved him wrong—again and again.

Until he realized he had truly become the villain.

Raphael spent hours alone in the training yard, the sound of his sword cutting through the air ringing like a constant reminder of his inadequacies.

Sweat dripped down his brow, his muscles burned, but it wasn’t enough.

He gripped the hilt tighter, focused, determined to overcome the anger that swelled within him every time he thought of Evelyn, of Verena, of his own weakness.

Night after night, he trained in silence, sometimes with swords, sometimes with his thoughts. He tried to understand his own mind, the way it twisted and contorted in his chest.

When had he lost himself?

When had he allowed love, of all things, to make him so weak?

He didn’t know.

But he was determined to fix it.

Alone, in the silence of his room, he clenched his fists, swore under his breath, and pushed himself harder.

For a moment, he imagined himself as a beast trapped in a cage, roaring against the bars, desperate to be free from his own heart.

He was fighting not just for strength, but for redemption, for the chance to rise above the man he had become.

***

As expected, Verena was placed under house arrest.

She was confined to a modest, sparsely decorated room at the edge of the academy grounds, far from the bustling activity of the main dorms.

It was a cold, solitary space with stone walls that seemed to echo the silence. The only company she had were the occasional whispers of wind outside her window.

No Sera. No distractions.

The news of her house arrest hadn’t spread across the entire academy, but the teachers were certainly keeping an eye on her.

Even the students connected to the faculty seemed to be more cautious in her presence, their eyes lingering a little too long when they passed by.

"This is truly something..." she muttered under her breath, staring out the window at the gray morning sky.

Another day of being watched like some kind of criminal, with nothing to do but wait.

Investigations were underway, but she knew how these things went: they’d take their time, drag things out, and she’d be left in limbo, unable to do much of anything.

Just as she was about to settle back into her thoughts, there came a knock on the door.

Verena didn’t bother adjusting her uniform properly, which hung loosely on her form, the top buttons undone.

She figured it was probably Clarina or Sera, both of whom had been frequent visitors, bringing snippets of information or distractions from the endless silence.

With a sigh, she shuffled towards the door, expecting the usual.

"Coming...."

When Verena opened the door, she was met with a voice that was far too familiar.

"Tch, where are your manners?" A woman stood there, her hand covering her eyes.

ANASTASIA?!

It had been a while since Verena last saw her—and honestly, it made sense.

Anastasia was always off mingling with the prince and handling affairs on the other side of the Academy as the ever-busy Secretary of the Student Council.

Whenever they did cross paths, it was nothing more than a glance... and usually a scowl.

"O-Oh!" Verena let out an awkward chuckle, hastily trying to cover herself. "What are you doing here?"

"Take a wild guess."

"Ah. They assigned you to me?"

"Exactly. Now stop stalling and put some clothes on before I file a misconduct report."

Verena was about to retreat in embarrassment until she spotted something on Anastasia’s neck. Her eyes narrowed mischievously. "I don’t think I’m the shameless one here..."

Anastasia’s face flushed instantly as she yanked her collar up, muttering a curse under her breath about the crowned prince.

Ah. So it had begun.

"Out! Move it!" Anastasia snapped, flustered. "We’re already running late!"

When they finally stepped out and made their way through the academy halls, all eyes trailed after them, curious, wary, and downright nosy.

The unlikely duo drew attention like a comet across a quiet sky.

Halfway down the corridor, someone stepped into their path.

"Why are you with m’lady?" Clarina asked, brows furrowed.

"To guard her," Anastasia replied coolly.

Clarina crossed her arms. "But I’m her guard."

"The difference is, you’re on her side," Anastasia said coolly. "I’m here to make sure she doesn’t harm anyone."

"M’lady is not harmful," Clarina snapped, taking Verena’s hand as if to shield her. But before she could pull her away, Anastasia seized Verena’s other wrist.

"Do you even know who you’re challenging?" Anastasia said, voice low and sharp.

What... was this?

Why did it suddenly feel like one of those cliché romance novel scenes where the first and second male leads square off over the heroine?

There wasn’t anything romantic between her and Clarina.

But gods, it really felt like it.

"BACK OFF!"

Everyone turned, startled—only to see no one at first. Then their eyes dropped... to Sera, who was practically dwarfed by the three towering figures.

"Stop fighting, you goddamn titans!" she barked, jabbing a finger at Anastasia and Clarina. "If anyone’s in charge of making sure Verena doesn’t do anything stupid, it’s me!"

Since when?

Still... that was—

"...So cute," Verena murmured, a small smile tugging at her lips.