The Villainess Is Shy In Receiving Affection

Chapter 1

***

One day…

My mother, a slave trader, brought home the heroine of this world.

“Today is really a lucky day. On my way back from the auction, I found a carriage that had an accident due to slipping in the rain. Look at this, Melody.”

Besides the girl, my mother also showcased various jewels and dresses she had salvaged from the carriage.

“It must be belongings of a noble from the capital, right?”

My mother asked excitedly, but Melody couldn’t share in her joy.

In fact, she felt despair.

It was the eleventh spring since Melody was born as the daughter of a slave trader in the world of the original novel.

The ‘first chapter’ of the original work, which she had hoped would never begin, had opened just like this.

The start of that first chapter went as follows:

‘The five-year-old female protagonist loses her mother in a carriage accident and is captured by a cruel slave trader.’

The cruel slave trader and his daughter were the first villains to appear in the original work, and their role was simple.

To mercilessly torment the young protagonist, Loretta, eliciting anger and sympathy from the readers.

And towards the end of the first chapter, they would be perfectly punished by a ‘Duke’ from the capital, never to appear again.

After all, they could never return, having planned to kidnap a noble and sell them as a slave, they wouldn’t even face trial before execution.

“…Um.”

Melody cautiously opened her mouth, thinking to advise her mother.

Even though a villain, she was Melody’s only blood relative.

“Isn’t it dangerous to carelessly take things belonging to the capital’s nobility…?”

Melody’s voice trailed off towards the end, slightly scared at the thought of her mother possibly resorting to violence.

Still, her advice was sincere.

…Though her mother, true to her character in the original work, just scoffed.

“Those nobles have so much of these things, they probably pile up to the ceiling.”

“But still, Mother.”

Melody began to persuade again, looking at the small female protagonist whom her mother had grasped by the hand.

“Even those people… have only one daughter.”

Considering the original novel’s title was “The Duke’s House Has Three Sons and One Daughter” (abbreviated by fans as “Duke’s Children”), it was clear.

“I don’t know.”

But again, her mother gave a villainous reply.

“Nobles breed like rabbits; they probably have as many children as they have items piled up to the ceiling.”

It was a comment unfit for children, and not the least bit funny.

Yet, her mother doubled over laughing.

* * *

Melody recalled her past life around the age of five.

Initially, she didn’t know it was a past life and was scared and crying.

She was alone in a world where no one smiled.

Once, unable to bear it, she clung to her mother’s skirt, stuttering about her frightening memories.

“Busy as I am, and you bother me, tsk.”

Knowing that annoying her mother would result in a harsh scolding, Melody stopped talking about these memories.

Fortunately, however.

Melody began to adapt little by little.

Thanks to realizing one fact: the world in her mind was just the path the former Melody had already traveled.

As a few more years passed, around when Melody was ten, the fragmented scenes in her head began to form into concrete situations and connect.

Each night, Melody went through these memories as if reading a storybook.

In Melody’s memories, she was not an adult. Even at her oldest, she was barely a fifteen-year-old girl.

That girl faced many difficulties because of money, in front of peers and adults alike.

Perhaps because of this, her viewpoint often included worn and wrinkled shoes seen while bowing her head.

Melody wished someone would pat the girl on the back. But that never happened.

It seemed there was no one to do so.

She was always alone.

Even on sick days, and nights of thunder that scared her so much.

Often, the girl vented her frustration, mostly towards the void.

“I’m sick of this!”

It was the residue of anger, unassuaged even after so long, but young Melody did not understand that.

She just felt incredibly lonely each time she cried out alone.

Yet, in her memories, the girl had one joy: reading books.

Melody naturally came to know the girl’s favorite book.

“The Duke’s House Has Three Sons and One Daughter”

For some reason, she could recall this strangely titled story more vividly than other memories.

From the beginning of the story, through its crises, to its beautiful end.

Melody soon grew to love this story, with the same memories and emotions as her past self.

‘Maybe my past self wanted to tell me this story?’

Sometimes she thought this, without any basis.

‘Or maybe because the villain who shares my name appears at the beginning, it stuck in my memory more vividly.’

It was an amusing thought, so Melody chuckled to herself.

However, her enjoyment of revisiting this fun novel didn’t last long.

One day, Melody picked up a scrap of newspaper at the edge of the village and found several place names that matched those in the novel.

‘How can it be this identical?’

After a brief confusion, Melody began to compare the world of “Duke’s Children” and her reality, one by one.

And she reached a short conclusion at the end.

‘Is the slave trader’s daughter Melody at the beginning… me?’

The light villain who torments the female protagonist and is punished for it.

Her mind went blank for a moment.

She had thought her lonely past life and current life were similar in some ways but…

In fact, it was.

‘…I ended up in an even worse situation.’

Her heart began to boil with a mixture of feelings.

She felt unjust and sad, but there was nothing she could do.

Just spit out the residue of her anger into the void.

“…I’m sick of this.”

She felt incredibly lonely, just like in her past life, as she repeated the same words alone.

* * *

Yet, Melody could still harbor a small hope.

‘I have memories of my past life.’

Melody knew why she would be punished.

So, if she could just avoid ‘that incident,’ she might save her life.

She immediately ran to her mother.

“Mother, you have to stop being a slave trader! Otherwise, something terrible will happen!”

It was advice given with the expectation of being scolded. And as expected, she was reprimanded.

“How dare you talk back to the person who struggles to feed you! If you’re going to say such unlucky things, get out of my house right now!”

That’s how Melody gave up on her first plan.

And a year passed, the day her mother finally brought the female protagonist home.

That’s when Melody’s second plan began.

‘If I treat the female protagonist kindly, perhaps I can at least save my life.’

But there were two obstacles to this goal.

First, my mother.

She undoubtedly had the mindset of a pro villain. Otherwise, she couldn’t be so cruel.

“Melody! I told you to keep her quiet, not to treat her like a noble!”

Treat her like a noble? I swear I didn’t. In our poor state, how could that even be possible?

Melody had simply ensured the child’s meals were regular and provided her with a blanket for her bed.

Yet, despite this explanation, my mother fully unleashed her villainous nature.

“If you go elsewhere, you’ll be treated even worse. Be grateful you at least have a smelly blanket.”

Amid my mother’s continuous misdeeds, Melody tried her best to be kind to the female protagonist.

However, being kind and building rapport were entirely different challenges.

After all, doesn’t kindness require ’empathy’ between the giver and the receiver?

‘But Loretta and I are too different…’

Melody, almost a slave herself, but the daughter of a fearsome slave trader.

Loretta, lovingly raised under a kind mother, growing up pretty and cherished.

It seemed impossible for these two to share empathy, even if the whole world did.

Furthermore, Loretta, new to this strange place, was terrified of not just my slave trader mother, but me too.

“Hey, Loretta.”

Startled, the child scurried to a corner to hide when Melody called her name.

“Um, you see.”

I added an unnecessary explanation, fearing she might be startled.

“I saw your name engraved on the small necklace you were wearing.”

Melody gestured the shape of a round necklace.

“It said Loretta. That’s your name, right?”

Truthfully, I already knew her name from the original story, but I still tried to initiate some conversation.

“…”

Of course, there was no effect. The child remained curled up, facing the wall.

I felt sorry for her frightened appearance and decided to stop for the day.

“Are you hungry? I’ll leave some bread and milk here. Eat when you feel comfortable. This is for you.”

I pushed the basket towards her and slipped out the door.

‘I hope she eats well.’

Concerned, Melody peeked through the door gap, observing Loretta’s actions.

The child remained vigilant for a long time until finally relaxing and cautiously looking around.

She quickly found the basket of bread. Hungry as she must have been, she began eating immediately.

‘Thank goodness.’

Melody sighed in relief. But it seemed Loretta noticed her watching.

Holding the bread, the child hid in the corner again.

Escaping from Melody’s gaze.

‘It seems it’s still too much for her.’

Melody’s efforts continued into the evening.

In the original work, Loretta would barely sleep on an old, hard chair in my mother’s room.

Melody found it heartbreaking to think of a young child enduring such discomfort.

So, waiting until my mother fell asleep, she would bring Loretta to her own room.

“Today, you’ll sleep in my bed again. Okay?”

Though humble for a noble lady, it was certainly better than a chair.

The child hesitantly climbed onto the bed.

Then,

Perhaps overwhelmed with emotions,

she soon curled up and began to whimper softly, stifling her tears.