‘I knew this would happen.’

Raylin quietly closed her eyes and gazed down at the fallen Theron.

At first glance, he appeared to be asleep. Just in case, she placed a finger beneath his nose, but as soon as she did, she shuddered and took a step back.

There was no breath.

She didn’t press her ear to his chest, but his heart had surely stopped as well.

“You really…”

The rest of her words remained trapped in her mouth, a silent wail.

The female protagonist killed the male protagonist!

***

Raylin Greuga.

The treasured daughter of the Duke of Greuga. Born with overwhelming wealth, honor even the imperial family respected, beauty admired by all, and a warm nature that never crossed the line despite her aloofness.

A woman who possessed the life everyone dreamed of from the moment of birth.

‘That’s me.’

‘A character straight out of a novel? You’re absolutely right.’

Raylin Greuga is a supporting character in the novel The Reincarnated Villainess Breaks Off Her Engagement—or Re.Vil.Bre for short.

The title alone makes it obvious.

That romance novel was about a reader who reincarnated as the villainess, boldly destroyed the original plot, became entangled with the original male protagonist, and ultimately fell in love with him, ending with a happily ever after.

And Raylin Greuga’s role? The villainess’s greatest ally and best friend… or, to put it bluntly, a convenient lackey who could be used for anything.

On top of that, she also handled the villainess’s emotional support, meaning she had a unique ability.

Raylin could see people’s emotions as words.

For instance, despite the original male protagonist Theron’s famously expressionless face, she could still see the word “flutter” floating beside him.

In other words, despite having the most dazzling setup in the world, she was nothing more than a character created solely to assist the reincarnated villainess.

And she played that role to perfection.

Because she thought that if she did, this wretched novel would finally end and she could live the life she wanted.

‘That’s right. I reincarnated. Into this damned romance novel as the supporting character, Raylin.’

There was no way back to her original world.

She had already died there—from terminal liver cancer.

She doesn’t know why she reincarnated and she didn’t care to find out.

‘If this was compensation for my miserable past life, then fine. If it was just a god’s prank, that was fine too. All I wanted was to live this new life properly.’

So she did my best to assist the villainess, ensured she married the original male protagonist, and brought the story to its happy ending.

‘Then why…?’

“You saw, didn’t you?”

A cold hand smoothly slid up the back of her neck, brushing against her ear like a serpent’s scales.

A well-manicured fingernail flicked her earlobe—once, then again.

“Raylin.”

Her lips parted, but no sound came out.

Time seemed to stretch endlessly as she blinks once.

“Ack!”

“You saw it! You saw! You actually saw it!”

Raylin’s eyes widened to their limits as her head was yanked back by her hair.

Reflected in her emerald-green irises was the one and only best friend she had in this world—the novel’s protagonist, the reincarnated villainess, Catherine.

Catherine was smiling. So wide, her lips might tear.

Completely intoxicated with herself, she intertwined her fingers with Raylin’s and spun her around like a dancer, heedless of her friend’s shock.

“Oh dear, you happened to witness his death during our private tea time?”

“P-private…? But just a moment ago, you—you were…”

Raylin’s desperate protest never reached Catherine’s ears.

“Oh well, there’s no helping it now.”

Her radiant smile, even with the corpse of the man she loved right before her, only deepened Raylin’s terror.

Catherine carelessly tossed the trembling Raylin to the ground like trash before stepping toward Theron’s lifeless body.

“W-what… Catherine? What do you mean, there’s no helping it?”

Struggling, Raylin barely lifted her head and stammered out the question, but no answer came.

Catherine, gazing down at Theron with a dreamy expression, murmured to herself instead.

“I knew it. Of course, it couldn’t just be one. He’s the original male protagonist, after all. The man every woman in the world admires and desires. So, of course, it wasn’t just the original female protagonist, Julia. She couldn’t have been the only one.”

Though she was still smiling, madness seeped into her voice.

“Aaahhh! Ah! Theron, you wretched man! How many women have you played with? How many more have you toyed with besides Julia? Huh? Just how many secret lovers did you have behind my back?”

As she caressed Theron’s deathly still face, Catherine suddenly convulsed and began pounding his chest.

“It wasn’t just that b*tch, was it?! Huh?! I told you—begged you—to only look at me! You promised me, too! You said if I gave myself to you, you would give yourself to me!”

Thud, thud—dull sounds echoed, like fists pounding on raw meat.

Raylin stared in shock at the words floating beside Catherine.

Anger, hatred, resentment, love, and conviction.

She wanted to scream and run away.

But she couldn’t.

Her entire body was paralyzed—she couldn’t move a single finger—because of whatever Catherine had done.

With only her eyes able to move, Raylin recalled the past leading up to this moment.

Had she truly not seen this coming?

No.

Had she not realized that the happy ending between the original novel’s male protagonist and the villainess she had possessed was not the end but the beginning of disaster?

She had.

“Raylin, I feel uneasy.”

“It’ll be fine. You’ll be happy.”

But the emotion that had floated beside Catherine then wasn’t “unease”—it was “doubt” and “anger.”

“Does Theron really love me?”

“Of course. He loves you more than anyone.”

Even then…

“Hic… sob… Raylin, I really love Theron. I love him so much, I don’t know what to do.”

Even then.

The word that never left Catherine’s side was “doubt.”

Even when she and Theron displayed “love” while together, the emotion lurking behind Catherine remained the same.

Raylin had known. Yet she had smiled and willingly looked the other way.

Because she understood—the villainess of the original novel, the fact that she had possessed her, the forced nature of the original storyline. She rationalized Catherine’s unease and doubt as something inevitable.

“Lady Greuga, Catherine has been acting strangely lately. She keeps crying, saying I’ve done things I haven’t. Do you know anything about this?”

“Oh dear, that’s not good. She must be a little anxious before the wedding. I’ll keep an eye on her. Don’t worry, Duke.”

If, when Theron had said that, she had instead warned him to be careful of Catherine, would anything have changed?

At the very least, two days before their wedding…

“Catherine, Julia is staying at the Beningham estate.”

“Really? Thanks for letting me know. Beningham, huh… That’s where Theron visited a month ago.”

If she had done something when she heard those ominous words… If, when Julia was found dead on their wedding day, she had acted…

No. If she had ignored Catherine’s request to obtain a colorless, odorless, tasteless poison because she had someone to “take care of”…

Raylin would never know the answer.

“Raylin.”

Catherine, who had been pounding mercilessly on Theron’s lifeless body before cradling him as if he were the most precious thing in the world, called out to her.

“Raylin? Why aren’t you answering? Do you not even want to speak to the woman who killed the man you love?”

No. She and Theron had never been like that. She had never once thought of him that way.

Even if she wanted to defend herself, the dead could not speak, and she—her mouth paralyzed—could say nothing.

“My beloved friend.”

Catherine whispered, her face pale as a ghost in broad daylight.

“I knew it, you loved Theron.”

‘No. I never did.’

“You whispered sweet nothings to him behind my back.”

‘No. We only talked about you.’

“You exchanged secret glances when the three of us were together.”

‘No. That never happened! Not once!’

“Raylin, I can never forgive you.”

‘Forgive me for what?! You created a crime in your head, convinced yourself of it, and now you speak of forgiveness?!’

‘You’re insane! You need a mental hospital! You need medicine!’

But Raylin’s denials and screams never made it past her lips.

Catherine had killed Theron. And then, she killed Raylin, too.

***

“Haaah!”

Raylin woke up with a gasp, drenched in cold sweat.

“My lady? My lady! Are you alright? My goodness, you look so pale! I’ll fetch the physician immediately!”

Watching her personal maid rush out of the room, Raylin slowly lifted her trembling hands.

Her ragged breathing, the sweat dripping onto her palms—

In that instant, she knew.

Raylin had returned to the past.