5
Smack—
A chilling sound yanked me out of my thoughts.
“Bare your teeth one more time and I’ll cut something off!”
At the shout that followed, I turned toward the noise. There was a smaller iron cage there.
While the others trapped in their cages looked as if they had given up on everything, the child in that one was glaring at the man whipping him as if he wanted to kill him.
The moment I saw the child, my eyes widened.
I couldn’t help it. He was much scrawnier than expected, yet he perfectly resembled the novel’s description.
“His jet-black hair and eyes were like a night sky without a single star.”
That was Noah’s mark—the very sign of the man who would one day plunge a blade straight into the villainess Isabella’s heart.
The characters in “That Which Does Not Desire” were all a little unhinged or obsessively devoted to the heroine.
Drug use, illegal weapons trade, inciting murder, committing murder—they did it all. My own death as the villainess was proof enough.
But among all those lunatics, the one who unsettled me the most was Noah.
In the story he was merely called the “Bloody Shadow of House Rosenberg,” presenting himself as Yuriel’s angelic sword. Compared to the other male leads, he could even seem mild.
But to me, he was different.
In front of Yuriel, Noah always acted like a gentle lamb, wearing a frail smile—but there was a reason he was called the Bloody Shadow.
Anything that stood in the way of Yuriel’s choice, he would cut down without hesitation.
I still vividly remembered the description—there wasn’t even the slightest pause in his movements.
He had been chilling enough when I read about him in text. Seeing him in person now, even though this was long before the novel’s beginning, his eyes were already far from ordinary.
The duke claimed he had rescued Noah during a hunt because his weak daughter might be startled otherwise, but as one could see, that was a ridiculous lie.
He was not the type to save anyone without benefit. Looking back, it was an excuse lacking even basic sincerity.
A sudden headache surged with the flood of thoughts. I clutched my head just as the duke, who had been watching Noah, finally spoke.
“Better merchandise than I heard.”
At the duke’s words, Jeffrey’s eyes lit up and he nodded rapidly.
“Yes, indeed. Even among Ombers he’s top-grade. He may look small for sixteen now, but if he’s well fed and trained, he’ll surely become a blade sharper than you can imagine.”
Listening quietly, I tilted my head.
According to the novel, he was supposed to grow into a tall, well-built man with the distinctive, finely toned muscles of the Omber tribe.
At sixteen, there should have been some sign of it already—but looking at him now, it was hard to imagine.
Lost in that thought, I stared at Noah inside the cage—then our eyes suddenly met.
His blazing gaze, filled with fear and hatred, made my shoulders flinch without me realizing.
If the story follows its course… that kid will grow up and kill me.
A spark seemed to flare inside my chest.
I had wondered why I possessed Isabella four years before the original timeline—this must be why.
The indifferent heavens hadn’t completely abandoned me.
Instinctively, I knew this was the turning point fate had given me.
If I can just stop Duke Rosenberg from buying Noah, my future might change too.
But how…?
Right then, the duke turned around.
“Then I’ll leave it to you until tomorrow.”
It seemed his inspection was finished. The manager and the mages also looked my way, as if their checks were done.
“Shall we head out as well?”
With everyone moving to leave, I had no choice but to follow.
That evening, the manager—his worries gone—prepared a lavish dinner and asked for my continued cooperation until tomorrow.
But after seeing Noah and Duke Rosenberg at the auction house, my tangled thoughts wouldn’t settle. I barely ate and soon excused myself.
Back in my room, alone, I collapsed onto the bed.
“What good is a fated turning point if I have no idea what to do…?”
Duke Rosenberg was one of the people who funded the slave market behind the scenes—the very man who had played a major role in Noah’s tribe being brutally kidnapped.
Only much later would Noah learn that truth.
“…The father of the person you love being your target of revenge.”
I had never thought this deeply about Noah before. It struck me anew that his life was no smoother than villainess Isabella’s.
If I kept thinking about it, I might even start feeling sympathy I had no right to, so I shook my head and sat at the table instead.
I picked up the paper and quill, trying to think of a way to stop the duke from buying Noah.
“Easy to say, but the auction’s tomorrow. There’s no way a solution just appears now.”
My urgency made my mind sluggish. The only ideas that came were simple ones—like blurting out the truth about the duke to Noah.
But that would twist the story into a mess, and before that, there was no guarantee the wary Noah would even believe me.
“…How did Yuriel get close to Noah again?”
Having lost his family and been sold, Noah naturally had high walls around his heart. I could tell just from the look in his eyes earlier.
The reason Yuriel could open that firmly shut door wasn’t only heroine privilege—it was also her endless kindness.
In this novel, true to its title, every character except Yuriel was consumed by an intense personal desire, willing to do anything to achieve it.
Only Yuriel sacrificed herself for others, and the male leads gradually fell for her because of that.
In a way, it was only natural Noah fell for her too—it was the best choice among very few options.
If he hadn’t loved Yuriel in the Rosenberg household, he might have gone mad.
…
My thoughts grew solemn.
More than anything, that method wasn’t one I could use. Selfless kindness—that was Yuriel’s way.
It was something only the bright, flower-like heroine could pull off.
After everything Isabella had done so far, trying that now would only backfire.
At that moment, I caught my reflection in the mirror across the table—red hair, pale face, and eyes shadowed with desire.
Villainess Isabella, standing opposite Yuriel’s purity.
Meeting the gaze of the woman in the mirror, a smile slowly spread across my lips.
“Right. A villainess has a villainess’s path.”
A fairly decent idea came to mind, and I found myself smiling wickedly.
True to being Midtown’s major event, long lines stretched around the auction house.
Amid the festival-like bustle, Monteo Garden’s splendid carriage rolled in.
The mages waiting before the still-closed venue swallowed nervously at the sight.
Soon the carriage stopped, and the one who stepped down drew everyone’s tension.
With a faint green dress that seemed to irritate her as she frowned slightly—it was the Great Mage, Isabella.
Each step down the carriage stairs made her red hair sway elegantly. Even from afar, she stood out.
This is burdensome.
I’d never been the center of so many gazes before, and it stiffened my expression even more.
That only made my already cold impression twice as sharp. No one dared speak first.
Then one mage approached boldly.
“Welcome, Lady Isabella.”
His voice was bright. I looked at him—an unfamiliar face from yesterday. When I merely blinked, he continued with his introduction.
“I arrived late at dawn, so I couldn’t introduce myself earlier. I’m Senior Mage Miller Horgen.”
On the chest of Miller’s robe was an emblem—a wolf layered over a crescent moon.
The moment I saw it, my eyes widened.
I hadn’t paid attention to the guilds the other mages mentioned yesterday, but the emblem on his clothes said it all.
“…Orun.”
Miller answered, surprised by my murmur.
“That’s right. I didn’t expect Lady Isabella to know our guild’s name. The guild master would be delighted to hear it.”
Of course I knew it.
The guild master of Orun he mentioned—was Kinzard Ebel, one of the sub male leads.
