Seduce With The Body Of An Enemy (Completed Main Story) - Chapter 2
The floating scenes shattered like glass at the sound of a frantic voice.
“My lady! My lady?”
A woman entered my field of vision, which only became clear after my body swayed like a paper doll.
Judging by her immaculate suit-style maid uniform, she must be the head maid.
The thought crossed my mind that this new body I’d acquired was likely that of a noble young lady.
Soon, even more shocked women gathered around the astonished maid.
Ordered not to cause a commotion and to summon the Duke immediately, they quickly disappeared outside.
Now only the woman—who I presumed was the head maid—and I remained in the room.
She locked eyes with me, then suddenly burst into tears.
“My lady, do you recognize me? I’m Marianne!”
Warmth radiated from her body as she clutched me tightly.
“I truly thought something terrible had happened to you….”
She couldn’t even finish her sentence properly.
Given how emotionally shaken she was, it was clear she’d been close to this body’s original owner.
While I easily pieced together the situation, she anxiously tried everything she could to calm my bewildered self.
She explained that I’d collapsed from an unknown illness and remained unconscious— for a full seven years. No wonder everything felt so disorienting now, but I would recover.
Seven years… The rough, unsettling span prickled on my tongue like a thorn.
“What’s my name?”
Shocked that I’d forgotten even my own name, the head maid named Marianne looked utterly stunned.
“My lady Vivian, what’s wrong with you!”
Vivian. Vivian…? I repeated that unreal name over and over in my head.
Then, I lifted a strand of my own hair to check.
Even after confirming its deep blue hue, darker than night itself, I shook my head in denial.
It was too rare a name to be a mere coincidence— yet I refused to believe it could really be me.
No, I desperately wanted to believe it wasn’t.
I even deliberately avoided looking at the familiar eye-shaped decorative carving.
Surely such patterns were popular across the Empire—they could have placed any number of them here.
Unless the Contractor was completely insane, there was no way he’d pull a prank like this.
But then—
The moment I saw the man who barged into the room, I knew for certain:
The Contractor really was a madman.
“You’ve awakened.”
The man who murmured in a low voice was none other than Diarobe Snowfell, head of House Snowfell.
*
Diarobe Snowfell.
He was my sworn mortal enemy—the one who’d tried to exterminate my family and me.
At the same time, he was a quintessential noble politician, masterfully reading his opponents’ moves through meticulous schemes and driving them into corners. He was an exceptionally difficult adversary.
Born a high noble, he never willingly surrendered anything, ruthlessly expanding his power until he forged the Snowfell of today.
He was said to have attended a grand assembly without even blinking an eye on the very day his wife died—
And then seized commercial rights for himself.
Not only that—he’d tried to kill me to make Vivian the Imperial Crown Princess and repeatedly plunged my entire house into crises.
Each time, I’d barely managed to escape by the skin of my teeth.
Our endless game of cat-and-mouse, chasing and being chased, never truly ended.
Thus, meeting him again could only be horrifying—in truth, even nauseating.
The only problem now was that he was my father.
The Duke, with his silver hair and eyes bearing the same murky hue as his, dominated the room with sheer, oppressive presence just by entering.
If I hadn’t served as an aide and faced him numerous times before, I doubt I could’ve met his gaze directly without flinching under that pressure.
The name Snowfell carried that much weight now, and he, standing at its center, occupied a position no one dared look down upon.
The servants lined around the room kept their heads bowed, anxiously stealing glances while fidgeting nervously.
But he paid them no mind, surveying me as if I were an object.
“At least you’re still useful.”
“……”
“You woke just when talks of the imperial marriage are heating up.”
His demeanor was so unnervingly indifferent it was hard to believe he’d nearly lost his daughter.
Hadn’t they said Vivian collapsed and remained unconscious for a full seven years?
And that it was an illness of completely unknown origin?
She’d essentially been considered a miracle just for surviving—likely only missing an official death pronouncement.
Even the servants had panicked at the sight of my awakening, which spoke volumes about her prior condition.
Yet how could a father look at his daughter—who’d nearly died and just woke after seven years—like that?
And what was that absurd remark he’d just made?
Of course, I understood.
In this Empire, many fathers treated daughters as mere objects, showing not an ounce of affection.
Among nobles especially, such attitudes were exceedingly common.
Unless a daughter was a direct heir, she was usually viewed only as a commodity to elevate the family’s prestige.
But still….
‘Didn’t Diarobe dote on Vivian obsessively?’
According to all known accounts, Diarobe cherished his only daughter and son deeply.
It was said he worked so tirelessly precisely to amass wealth and honor for their futures.
The Duke Diarobe, who sometimes even seemed romantically devoted, used to constantly carry Vivian around with him.
I’d personally witnessed this many times in public settings.
During my childhood—when we were close friends—I often saw such scenes with my own eyes, and even after that… they always appeared as a harmonious father-daughter pair at official events.
Whenever there was an event, he’d cling to Vivian to an almost excessive degree.
His supposedly brilliant son, deemed too frail to appear in public, had never once shown himself—but it was also said he cherished him just as fiercely.
‘Then… what is this situation now?’
My swirling confusion was interrupted by his voice.
“Why are you dawdling instead of conducting the examination?”
“But the test causes severe pain, so right now—”
“We don’t have time. Begin immediately.”
Meeting Diarobe’s deadly glare, the healers bowed their heads and tightly bound me into a casing.
After that, various tests proceeded swiftly.
Throughout the agonizing examinations, astonishingly little emotion showed in his eyes.
Finally, drenched in cold sweat, I emerged, and the court physicians completed their report using complex terminology.
In short, I’d recovered perfectly with no abnormalities detected.
Snowfell’s healers, having undergone rigorous vetting themselves, possessed considerable healing prowess.
My strength, depleted over seven long years, had returned almost instantly.
Only after confirming this did a smile finally bloom at the Duke’s lips.
For some reason, even that smile now looked sinister.
Just as I tensed, anticipating another useless remark, the Duke met my gaze.
“Focus solely on your recovery.”
With that, he vanished outside without even glancing back.
Normally, wouldn’t a father who hadn’t seen his daughter in seven years at least embrace her—even if he couldn’t shed tears?
Was it my own ill will that made him appear so cold?
Or was it simply an ominous premonition?
But those thoughts quickly evaporated like steam into thin air.
Was that really the issue right now?
Now that I’d become Vivian Snowfell.
Still unable to accept this unbelievable truth, I quietly stared into the mirror.
There sat a woman with blue hair and violet eyes, clutching her face in one hand.
“Hah….”
Tears kept spilling uncontrollably from sheer despair.
I’d thought I was fully prepared—but apparently, that was just arrogance.
My Rosemary, my family, my everything… had I truly lost it all now?
I missed my father and my only younger brother, Tikan, desperately.
My father probably believed I was dead.
Because secrecy was paramount in spellcraft, I’d never told anyone the truth.
By now, both my brother and father must have given up searching for me.
I wanted nothing more than to run to them this very instant.
But in this state, I could never approach my family again.
As days passed, my tears dried into brittle dust.
*
Fortunately, the dreadful headaches gradually faded, replaced by a magically swift recovery.
With each passing day, cold reason settled over my fiercely surging emotions.
“The bath is ready, my lady. Please come.”
As always, the head maid Marianne diligently performed her duties.
She was the only person in this enormous mansion who spoke to me.
Her earnest efforts to coax me into eating even a single spoonful of untouched soup made her seem ten thousand times kinder than Duke Diarobe.
She must have shared a genuinely good relationship with Vivian.
After tidying myself neatly and giving a slight bow, I stepped inside to find a wooden tub releasing sweet-scented steam.
As I moved toward it, baring my body, I noticed scars.
And not just one—there were many.
‘How did this happen…?’
Judging by their appearance, these were fairly old wounds scattered across my skin.
How could a noble young lady, who’d spent her life indoors doing embroidery, bear such marks?
Clearly, these weren’t simple injuries.
Who could have done this?
With no answers, dread seized my entire body.
I considered asking Marianne, but decided against it—she’d probably just think I’d gone mad.
As the steam slowly cooled, my mind gradually cleared.
My cold, sharpened reason outlined what I must do.
First, I had to escape this place and reach the Imperial Palace. Only by meeting him could I carry out any temptation—or whatever else was necessary.
I couldn’t afford to waste even a single day.
My greatest hope now lay in the fact that Diarobe and I likely shared the same goal.
Duke Diarobe had always wanted to place Vivian on the throne as Crown Princess.
Though seven years might have changed much—especially if he truly cherished his daughter—it seemed he hadn’t changed at all.
One could read much from a person’s eyes.
His, blazing with ambition, were unmistakably driven by desire.
According to Marianne, Cassius remained unmarried, and many nobles openly vied to marry their daughters to him, hoping to claim the Empress’s seat.
Until now, that momentum had been led by rival dukes—but now, with my awakening, it would surely fall into Diarobe’s hands.
Marianne mentioned the Grand Assembly was today, so a decision would come soon.
Now I understood why Diarobe had been so busy rushing about, never even staying in the mansion.
The real issue was Cassius himself.
Would he—who hadn’t allowed a single noble lady into his chambers in seven years—really agree to marry me, swayed by Diarobe’s reckless demands?
Honestly, I doubted it.
Then my only option was to use Diarobe as a pawn to tighten the noose around his own neck.
That would be the quickest, easiest way to claim the seat beside Cassius.
Yet something about it felt deeply unsettling—handing Cassius’s weakness to none other than Diarobe himself.
My thoughts continued as I left the bath and dried off.
The deepening turmoil in my mind was abruptly shattered by a loud bang—the door bursting open.
Only the Duke himself would dare enter this room without knocking.
Lifting my head, I saw Duke Diarobe standing there as expected.
A satisfied smile quickly spread across his lips.
Just as a chill of revulsion prickled my skin, he spoke.
“The wedding will take place in fifteen days.”
Male lead is reincarnated to save his wife
I’ve also read this one twice already. The female lead is kinda soft and gets embarrassed easily—not really my type, but the plot is definitely worth reading. Hurry up and read it, y’all!
Intro
When Shen Yuan encountered Su Jin again in his previous life, she had already become the Prime Minister of the current dynasty. As for him, the former top young master of the capital, he had long since fallen into the abyss, becoming a singer on a pleasure boat.
After a song ended, he was redeemed and sent to the Su Residence.
Su Jin respected and cherished him, gave him a roof over his head, and bestowed him with warmth. Shen Yuan fell deeper and deeper, but before he could express his feelings, Su Jin passed away.
Shen Yuan died to follow her in death, but instead, he returned to when he was fifteen years old.
At that time, he was not yet engaged, and Su Jin was just a poor scholar.
Shen Yuan gritted his teeth, casting aside all his pride, and thought of ways to coax and entice her every day.
The colder and more indifferent Su Jin was towards him, the more proactive Shen Yuan became.
He was not afraid of being mocked by the world, only wanting to marry his Wife-master early, to hold her hand and never let go for a lifetime.
[Note: This story will not specifically point out the male lead’s reincarnation time point; it’s all in the details. Whenever you feel that the male lead is acting strangely, he has most likely been reincarnated.]
[Touch the gear icon in the bottom right corner of the screen to move to the next chapter if you want.]
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