“I’ll just live as a villain.

Chapter 1

Chapter 1. Erel

—Stay in Erel until high society quiets down. It’s a silent place with nothing there. There’s no better spot for quiet reflection and self-restraint.

Once rumors spread throughout the capital that I had tried to kill Catherine, Duke Oberon sent me to Erel, one of the territories under his domain.

It was a rather sudden order, but I wasn’t surprised at all. In the original story, the duke said those exact same words before sending Ibria down to Erel.

‘It’s just happening a little earlier than it should.’

Originally, Ibria stubbornly denied her wrongdoing until the crown prince publicly annulled their engagement and she was expelled from high society. Only after that was she sent to Erel.

But I had annulled the engagement myself and withdrawn from society before being forced out, which naturally sped things up.

Erel was a small territory clinging to the northern edge of the kingdom. A backwater where extreme cold was part of daily life—hardly a pleasant place for a delicate noble lady to pass the time. If I were the real Ibria, simply being sent here would have been agony.

Unfortunately for the duke, who probably wanted me to reflect deeply on my actions, I wasn’t a particularly delicate noble lady.

A remote northern countryside? So what? If anything, it was perfect for lazing around and living leisurely.

‘And best of all, Catherine’s fish aren’t here glaring at me every time they see my face. This isn’t punishment—it’s practically a reward.’

…Or so I thought.

“C‑C‑Cold!”

Erel was cold.
No—freezing.

Far colder than I had imagined.

The air was so icy that even sitting still indoors made my whole body tremble. I wore a thick coat and wrapped a blanket around my shoulders, yet the cold still seeped straight through. At this point, I was starting to wonder if Ibria’s original cause of death hadn’t been suicide—but hypothermia.

No. That wasn’t a suspicion anymore.
She had definitely frozen to death. Absolutely.

“D‑Do people really l‑live in weather like th‑this?”

I asked the maid beside me, Emma, in disbelief. My teeth were chattering so badly I could barely speak, yet she calmly poured tea while wearing nothing more than a light maid uniform.

“If you drink some warm tea, you should feel a little better.”

“Th‑This isn’t the kind of c‑cold tea can fix. Emma, a‑aren’t you cold?”

After sipping the tea, the shaking eased slightly—but only slightly. My entire body still felt chilled to the bone. At this rate, I’d end up bedridden with a terrible cold.

“I am cold as well, my lady. But I was born and raised in Erel. People from here are accustomed to enduring the cold. It becomes unbearable at night, but since it’s still daytime, this is considered relatively warm.”

“This is warm? If it gets any colder, I’ll die. I’ll literally freeze to death…”

Freezing to death before I even got to enjoy a luxurious life? That was absurd.

‘I need a solution.’

Desperately scanning the room for a way to survive, I spotted a fireplace in the corner.

“What’s the point of having a fireplace if you don’t light it? We need a fire.”

“I’m very sorry, my lady. There is no firewood left in the territory. The small amount remaining is reserved for cooking in the kitchen. At least we can boil water for tea.”

“What?”

It was unbelievable. Even if this was a rural territory, it was still owned by a duke. How could there be no firewood?

Emma, reading the disbelief on my face, lowered her head apologetically.

“The trees that grow in Erel are Black Ironwood. They survive the cold, but they’re extremely hard and don’t burn well, so they can’t be used as firewood.”

“Then can’t we just buy firewood from another territory?”

“The Okal Trading Company was our supplier. We’ve maintained a relationship for over a hundred years, but they abruptly cut off trade recently. Not only the estate, but the entire territory has run out of firewood.”

She continued, clearly troubled.

“It’s difficult to establish new trade routes on short notice. The steward is urgently searching for alternatives, so please endure it for a little while longer.”

Trade was built on trust. Ending a long-standing business relationship unilaterally required a compelling reason.

And more importantly, this was a rigidly hierarchical society. Social status outweighed market logic. Even with a reason, it wouldn’t be easy for a mere merchant company to sever ties with a ducal territory.

“Erel belongs to a duke. A single trading company can’t just cut ties on a whim. There must be a reason, right?”

At my obvious question, Emma hesitated.

“Emma.”

Urged on, she finally spoke.

“The Okal Trading Company belongs to the Melior Count’s family. So…”

The moment I heard the name Melior, a face came to mind.

One of Catherine’s fish—the first prince, Ridon.
The Melior Count’s family was his maternal relatives.

They couldn’t compare to House Oberon in influence, but they were still the royal family’s in-laws. Even a duke couldn’t act rashly toward a family connected to the throne.

‘So they’ve got solid backing.’

I could more or less see what had happened.

“Did the trade end about a week ago?”

“…Yes.”

“So the first prince’s influence was heavily involved.”

They must have cut off the trade out of spite for my attempt on Catherine’s life.

‘That’s exactly like Ridon Jeraint.’

It matched his character from the book perfectly.

Ridon Jeraint was the first prince, yet the position of crown prince belonged to his younger brother, Cassian. Unusual in a world that favored primogeniture—but understandable once you knew the circumstances.

Ridon’s mother died shortly after giving birth to him. The woman who later became queen gave birth to Cassian, and the living power at court did everything she could to make her son the crown prince. Even Ibria’s engagement to Cassian had been part of that plan, meant to secure House Oberon’s backing.

Now think about it:
A firstborn prince who lost his mother early, backed by a weak maternal family, yet still holding a claim to the throne.

Didn’t that scream death flag?

Fortunately—or unfortunately—Ridon was sharp. He recognized the danger early and began preparing. On the surface, he acted meek and harmless. Inside, he was fueled by ambition and desperation.

A classic hidden villain.

In such circumstances, Ridon and Ibria—fiancée of the crown prince—were destined to be enemies. Their relationship was bad to begin with, and Ibria’s relentless harassment of Catherine, whom Ridon had grown fond of, only made it worse. Among Catherine’s five admirers, the one who despised Ibria the most was undoubtedly Ridon.

‘But cutting off trade because of it?’

Royalty really was incomprehensible.

‘Why is everything so extreme?’

If he was angry, he should’ve taken it out on me. Instead, just because I was staying here, he made the entire territory suffer.

The broken trade itself didn’t matter much to me. But the fact that it meant no firewood—that was critical. Running around trying to restore the trade sounded exhausting, but if I stayed like this, I’d freeze to death.

‘They said Erel was a quiet place with nothing… that I could just lie low here…’

The peaceful, comfortable life I had imagined drifted far away.

When I left high society, I truly intended to live quietly. Not because I wanted to preserve the original plot or out of any noble sentiment.

I had no desire to clean up crimes I hadn’t committed, nor any ambition to achieve greatness in a world that was nothing more than a novel. I’d possessed the body of a lucky noblewoman—why bother living a stressful life?

‘Trying hard is such a pain.’

But this wasn’t about comfort anymore. This was about survival.

I stood up abruptly, clutching my blanket tightly.

“No choice. I’ll have to use a cheat key.”

“…A cheat key?”

Emma tilted her head at the unfamiliar term.

A cheat key was something that turned a complex, strategy-heavy game into something as simple as Minesweeper. No matter how difficult the game, a cheat key made it trivial.

“Emma, why do you think I’m shivering like this without even being able to light a fire?”

“Because the Okal Trading Company cut off trade, leaving us without firewood…?”

“No. Wrong.”

“…Pardon?”

“Erel has plenty of firewood. Black Ironwood. There’s a lot of it, isn’t there?”

“Well, yes, but it doesn’t burn properly—”

“With an ordinary fire, sure. But what if there were a fire so strong—so ridiculously strong?”

Emma fell silent. The conversation had clearly veered into strange territory, and she seemed to be wondering if her lady had finally lost her mind from the cold.

“You know the legend of the Blue Flame, right? The great mage whose fire burned all his enemies.”

“Of course. Everyone in the kingdom knows that story.”

The founding myth of Jeraint began with the Blue Mage. A peerless archmage who aided the first king, Ephron Jeraint, and annihilated his enemies. He was the king’s greatest ally—yet after Ephron’s death, he vanished from history.

Like smoke.
As if he had never existed.

Even his name was absent from the history books. All that remained was a single sentence he was said to have left behind:

‘If someone calls my name again, I will wield the blue flames for them.’

After helping establish the kingdom, all that remained of him was one line. Still, no one seriously tried to uncover his identity. After all, it was just a myth. Myths were exaggerated by nature.

But I knew better.

I knew the archmage was real—and I knew his hidden story.

And that knowledge was about to become my cheat key.

“Emma. Fill the fireplace with Black Ironwood.”

“My lady, it truly won’t burn—”

“I’ll handle the rest. Just bring the Black Ironwood. Hurry.”

At my firm tone, Emma stopped arguing. She bowed, sounding utterly resigned.

“Yes. I will bring it at once.”