I Transmigrated as an Extra in a Trashy Dark Romance Game - Chapter 87

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※ This work contains depictions of coercive relationships, explicit language, and other graphic content. Reader discretion is advised.

Why was it Blackford, who had the lowest favorability towards her compared to the others? Confused and even more frightened because she couldn’t understand the reason, Tisha noticed Edith’s pallor and called out to her.

“You look pale. Are you alright?”

“Ah, I’m fine, Miss Tisha… It’s been a while, Young Duke Blackford.”

He was the number one male lead she had vowed, upon first transmigrating into Edith, to avoid getting entangled with at all costs. She remembered how he had deceived her, hiding his true nature as a cold, cruel, sadistic demon behind a kind, angelic face.

“My lady, are you still upset?”

“Stop bringing up things I don’t even remember. More importantly, why are you here?”

Edith cut him off coldly as he even added a joke, saying her foreign clothes suited her, and got straight to the point.

“Ah, I heard Silverwind’s next king successfully completed his coming-of-age ceremony. You could say I was sent as a sort of goodwill envoy?”

His sky-blue eyes, looking at her, were veiled by a crescent-moon smile.

According to Blackford, the Emperor had sent him as part of a congratulatory delegation, and he was currently attending the celebration banquet held for several days by the Silverwind king for his successor. From Empire nobles interested in the kingdom to envoys from nearby small states, many were attending the multi-day event…

‘So that’s why he was busy… and why they kept me from the main palace…’

She guessed they had blocked her to prevent a meeting between Edith, confined in the kingdom, and someone from the Empire who might cause political headaches between the two nations. And given her personality, they probably also silenced everyone around to keep her from knowing people from the Empire had arrived, fearing she might use it to escape.

Unbeknownst to her, Edith had been isolated. The realization of how meticulous Kazan’s plan was left her breathless.

“Then how did you know I was here and wait for me?”

“That would be thanks to Miss Tisha here…”

Knock, knock.

“Miss Edie, are you done changing?”

Just as she was about to ask what was going on, Perry’s voice came from outside, checking if the long silence meant she was finished. At his voice, silence fell among everyone present except Mikael.

Tisha broke the silence, speaking quietly to Edith and him.

“It would be best to finish your conversation quickly.”

“It seems the detailed talk will have to wait.”

Mikael shrugged, then met Edith’s eyes and spoke directly with a serious expression.

“My lady. Shall I help you?”

His angelic facade was gone, replaced in an instant by his demonic true nature, like a wrathful asura. Edith shuddered.

He offered dangerous help she could hardly refuse, but she hesitated, unsure what would become of her if she took that hand.

When she read the letter, Edith hadn’t wanted to accept help, afraid it meant returning to the Empire she had fled. But with no intention of becoming a prince’s consort either, she had eventually, reluctantly, thought of one possibility…

‘I’ll only accept help getting out of the kingdom, and then bolt immediately.’

She didn’t know who would be waiting, but she planned to take the help and run.

She couldn’t read his true intentions, but compared to the others, his favorability was low, and he didn’t seem particularly obsessed with her. She thought Mikael was perfect for this plan.

But seeing him now, Edith resolved not to let her guard down as she took his hand.

“Someone will come for you soon to help. When you safely escape the city, I’ll come to retrieve you.”

His face was no longer the one she had seen before, but the true face from the game—a demonic, seductive smile. Edith swallowed hard in fear.

* * *

“Mr. Perry, did you wait long?”

“No, it’s fine, Edie. But… you didn’t change?”

Perry looked at her curiously as she opened the door and came out with an apologetic expression, still wearing her wet clothes. Just then, Tisha appeared beside her, dispelling his confusion.

“My clothes were too long and wide. They would have been quite uncomfortable for her to wear.”

Indeed, Tisha’s tall, curvaceous build was the complete opposite of Edith’s small, thin frame, a result of malnourishment since childhood.

Perry, knowing it was impolite, briefly glanced between the two women, then covered his mouth with his hand and looked at Edith with a pitying expression.

“Ah… I didn’t think of that. I’m sorry, Miss Edie. You must be uncomfortable. Let’s return to the palace quickly.”

“Yes. And Miss Tisha, thank you for your consideration.”

To others, it would sound like a simple thank you for the offer of clothes, but Edith’s gratitude towards the woman who had helped pave the way for her escape was sincere. Tisha, perhaps understanding the true meaning, merely gave a slight nod, as was her nature.

* * *

She had gone out during the day and only returned to the palace as evening fell. After a refreshing bath, she changed clothes and ate a late dinner.

Then, lying in bed, she was wondering when “soon” might be, and what Mikael’s true intentions could be—he was so hard to read—when someone knocked on her door.

It was the same blunt female servant, the one directly under Kazan, whom she had seen after the banquet that day. Her reason for visiting Edith was the same as before.

“Miss Edie, His Highness Prince Kazaniel requests your presence.”

With the same words and actions as last time, the servant ignored Edith’s refusal—she had already bathed—bathed her again, applied fragrant oil to her body, dressed her in a robe, and led her to Kazan’s chamber.

Following the servant obediently, Edith felt her stomach churn as she thought about Kazan’s scheme she had uncovered today.

Until yesterday, she had felt a flicker of gratitude towards him—he kept her confined, yes, but he had allowed her to go out freely. But recalling the moment she learned of his meticulous plan to prevent her from meeting anyone from the Empire, she resented him all over again.

Even when she tried to see him in a good light, his actions always twisted in the wrong direction, making it impossible.

“Why did you call for me, Prince?”

Edith arrived and, without even looking at him, threw out the question in a heavily sarcastic tone. But his lack of response made her curious, and she turned her head.

Unlike in the Empire, Kazan’s bed was like a wide cushion, low to the ground. Sheer, translucent curtains hung from the ceiling, draping around it.

Through the drawn curtains, she could see him lounging, holding the stem of what looked like a water pipe connected to a long tube, exhaling smoke.

“Is that tobacco?”

“…”

His continued silence made Edith stand there, arms crossed, staring at him, wondering what his deal was. An awkward silence stretched between them.

Her emotions were still a tangled mess of resentment, gratitude, frustration, and betrayal. And he was just sitting there, smoking, making her vision even more hazy and confused.

“Come here.”

It was Kazan, who had seemed content to remain silent, who finally broke it. Holding the pipe in one hand, he reached out with the other, beckoning her to him.

“Honestly, do you think I’ll just come running whenever you call?”

Despite her snarky words, she used the excuse of hating the silence to slowly approach him, half-hidden behind the curtain.

“Ahh!”

But as soon as Edith got close, Kazan grabbed her wrist with his outstretched hand and yanked her towards him. She tumbled onto the soft, plush cushions, practically falling into his arms.