Seduce With The Body Of An Enemy (Completed Main Story) - Chapter 8

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Cassius’s movements as he cut his steak were leisurely, oddly uncharacteristic of someone who had just spewed venom.

Watching him, a question arose in my mind.

‘Why did he accept this luncheon invitation? Maybe he just feels obligated—he is married, after all. Still, I should count myself lucky I even get to see him like this.’

At first, I’d thought it would’ve been better to possess some random passerby instead, but I decided to look on the brighter side.

After all, it was sheer fortune that I was even in a position to see him.

I didn’t expect things to work out all at once, so please just come a little closer, Cassius, little by little.

Pretending to be as oblivious as someone blocked by a wall, I stayed true to my role.

“I’m quite particular about my tastes, you see. I adore beauty— and Your Highness possesses a face worthy of my refined standards.”

Cassius’s incredulous gaze pierced right through me.

Even I had to admit it sounded a bit absurd.

But there was nothing I could do.

‘Cassius, just imagine yourself in my place. Could I afford to waste even a single moment?’

Gripping his knife as if it were a sword, Cassius glared straight at me.

Then, the moment our eyes met, he muttered under his breath,

“This is the first time I’ve ever regretted my own face.”

“I’ll work harder so you never have to regret it again.”

Cassius, speechless and still wearing that bewildered expression, locked eyes with me.

“I’m genuinely curious—why do you even like me?”

The same thought had crossed Vivian’s mind as well. She truly couldn’t understand why she’d been chasing after Cassius.

‘Is it because she has a thing for bad boys?’

No—more likely, she’d always wanted everything I had, and Cassius was just another item on that list. That seemed the most rational explanation.

But that wasn’t what mattered right now.

“Oh my, you’re making me flustered by even wondering about that.”

“…….”

“As I mentioned earlier, I fell for Your Highness at first sight.”

“…….”

“In that spirit, how about we share luncheons from now on?”

Oops—I’d moved too fast. On second thought, that was utter nonsense, completely stripped of all context.

It was the result of being consumed by an overwhelming desire to seduce him.

‘If only this were a negotiation table and Cassius my counterpart—it’d be so much easier…’

Judging by the look on Cassius’s face, as if he were staring at a ghost, I realized with certainty: I’d been far too hasty.

‘He’s probably thinking, “Stop saying crazy things and just eat your food.”’

After all, merely sitting across from me without flipping the table was already a trial for him.

And yet—

“Very well, then.”

“…?”

He was agreeing to keep having luncheons with me?

Pleasantly surprised yet dazed, I sat there blankly, and only the awkward clinking of cutlery echoed through the space.

Not long after, Cassius rose from his seat.

“I should take my leave now.”

He’d eaten only a single piece of steak.

“Leaving so soon?”

Did my face truly disgust him so much that he couldn’t bear to look at it even for a moment?

‘Then why agree to have luncheons with me at all?’

Cassius gave a slight nod, then tossed his napkin onto the table as if discarding it.

His steps, striding past me toward the door, felt unusually swift.

But just before reaching it, for some reason, he turned back toward me.

At the soft click of the doorknob, our eyes met midair—mine turning quickly, his having already stopped.

His furrowed brow stirred unease within me.

Surely he wasn’t about to cancel the luncheon, claiming it had all been a mistake?

Trending

Just as my heartbeat quickened—thump, thump—he spoke.

“I’d appreciate it if you didn’t wear that perfume next time.”

“Excuse me?”

I’d gone out of my way to put it on, and now he was telling me not to?

‘Is he angry because I used the same one Rachel used?’

But Cassius’s next words went completely against my expectations.

“The scent is so repulsive I can barely stand it.”

“…!”

My heart sank heavily.

This was on an entirely different level from mere insults or humiliation.

‘That was the very perfume you gave me yourself. Don’t you even remember that?’

Long after he’d left, I remained seated, unable to move for a long while.

*

As soon as Cassius returned to his room, he vomited everything in his stomach.

‘How did she even know which perfume Rachel used?’

Though he’d pretended ignorance in front of Vivian, Cassius couldn’t possibly not recognize it—it was the perfume he himself had gifted.

‘Just how much does she know about Rachel?’

The more he learned about Vivian, the more repulsive she became.

‘And yet she has the audacity to wear that pitiful, self-righteous expression as if she’s the victim.’

If he hadn’t reminded himself of his purpose, he might not have held out.

It was utterly ridiculous—shamelessly imitating Rachel to seduce him like this.

Worse yet, the way she’d declared she fell for him at first sight had been genuinely shocking.

For the first time, Cassius felt an urge to tear off his own face.

Because maybe it was precisely this face that had caused all that disaster.

Because maybe it was this face that had led Rachel to her fate.

And so, he needed to keep his wits about him. To orchestrate the perfect finale.

Tikan grew restless watching Cassius’s precarious state—any moment now, he might collapse.

“I’ll call the healer.”

True to Rachel’s prediction, Cassius had been avoiding even routine checkups ever since she disappeared, for years now.

“I don’t want to hear that again.”

At Cassius’s low, quiet words, Tikan couldn’t bring himself to continue.

His lord, pale as paper, had only one thought: to bring Snowfell to ruin.

His acceptance of the luncheon must have been for that very reason.

“What about Capeil?”

“We haven’t obtained it yet.”

At Tikan’s words, Cassius’s brow furrowed.

Capeil was a poisonous herb cultivated exclusively in Snowfell.

The Empire strictly forbade its cultivation, making it extremely rare even among high-ranking noble houses to possess such a toxin.

Yet Snowfell secretly grew it.

Poison was the easiest method to eliminate enemies without leaving a trace.

Nobles, aware of this, kept silent out of fear of Snowfell’s influence.

But if that poison were used to assassinate a member of the imperial family?

Everything would change. Even the most cautious nobles wouldn’t stay silent when presented with such an obvious justification.

Cassius had planned to drink a poison made from Capeil during the luncheon and frame Snowfell for it.

It would amount to treason—and most importantly, it would easily implicate the entire Snowfell family.

However, to make it convincingly appear as a premeditated crime by Snowfell, he needed to play along with their timing to some extent.

A sudden luncheon followed immediately by a poisoning would seem suspicious.

That was the sole reason Cassius had accepted Vivian’s luncheon invitation.

With his life hanging by a thread anyway, Cassius believed this plan was perfect for his final act.

Throughout all these preparations, his thoughts had remained entirely on Rachel.

ads

‘Will I get to see you even once before I die?’

Meanwhile, Tikan, who had grasped Cassius’s intention, felt his vision blur.

“Your Highness, at this rate, you truly will collapse.”

“Don’t worry. I won’t die before I witness Snowfell’s downfall.”

“Why must you say such things?”

Ignoring Tikan’s concern with ease, Cassius changed the subject.

“Has there been any word from Sir Rodgo?”

It had already been several days since he’d ordered Rodgo to investigate traces of the mage found near Rosemary Manor.

If only they could uncover the culprit, Cassius felt certain he could find Rachel immediately.

“Well…”

“What’s wrong? Is there a problem?”

“They’re analyzing it, but the spell circle is incredibly complex—they say it’ll be difficult…”

“Complex?”

An old conversation with Rachel echoed loudly in Cassius’s mind.

“Sometimes they deliberately layer multiple intricate spells to obscure their traces and make the spell circle harder to decipher.”

“Is that really necessary?”

“They have to cover their tracks after committing a crime.”

“So is that why you hide your own feelings?”

“What am I hiding? And that’s completely different from concealing a crime.”

“As expected—criminals always fail to recognize their own wrongdoing.”

As Cassius fell silent, lost in memories of that day, Tikan’s voice once again filled the room.

“The spell circle was layered multiple times, as if someone had deliberately set out to conceal it.”

‘A meticulous attempt at concealment… an exceptionally skilled mage.’

Cassius’s suspicion hardened into certainty.

‘Snowfell.’

If it turned out to be their doing again, he couldn’t even begin to imagine what he might end up doing.

*

Within a single day, my mind had become entirely occupied with Cassius.

He’d even appeared in my dream last night, glaring at me with contempt in his eyes.

Before our marriage, I used to worry endlessly about how I’d handle that stare… Now that I’d actually experienced it, it didn’t seem like such a big deal.

Only his final words—how repulsive the Rosemary scent was—kept buzzing relentlessly in my head.

Still, after a full day had passed, the shock had begun to subside somewhat.

‘Well, considering I’m Vivian, I suppose his reaction is understandable.’

Lost in thought, I let the maids finish styling the hairstyle I’d chosen.

Wanting to look different from usual, I’d opted for a simple tiara instead of yesterday’s.

Just changing one accessory had a surprisingly strong effect.

This tiara—something the usual Vivian would never wear—lent an elegant air, creating an entirely new impression.

Once the styling was complete, Marianne hesitantly asked,

“What about the perfume?”

She was asking if I’d wear Rosemary again.

It didn’t matter what scent I chose—he wouldn’t like it anyway.

But after hearing those words yesterday, I couldn’t bring myself to wear that one.

“Just handle it yourself.”

At my vague instruction, Marianne’s face brightened instantly, as if she knew exactly what to do.

She quickly fetched Lysian perfume and applied it.

Just as the styling concluded, a servant hurried in and whispered something to Marianne.

Seeing Marianne’s expression harden instantly, I knew the news wasn’t good.

“What’s happened?”

“Well…”

“Speak.”

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Only then did Marianne, carefully gauging my reaction, force out the words.

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