Reincarnate as the Villainess's Husband - Chapter 97

Chapter 97: Reality
Neonidas’ smile deepened momentarily in response to Elenora’s defiance, yet the light in his eyes never changed. To him, this game was not just a display of power, but a battle of minds. He had tasted the pleasure of subjugating strong women, of conquering them not only physically but also spiritually. Though Elenora and Celeste carried themselves differently, they would ultimately share the same fate.

He took a few more steps into the room, his silent footsteps on the marble floor amplifying the tension in the air. Celeste tilted her head slightly, flicking her slender tail, her eyes gleaming like those of a predator under the light. She was trying to predict his next move. She was like a cat—only her instincts would determine when she would strike or when she would submit.

Elenora, however, remained perfectly still, composed. She neither trembled nor stepped back. Yet Neonidas could see the fear, the anger, and the helplessness stirring within her. Being the heir to a kingdom had taught her more than just how to fight on the battlefield. Politics, intrigue, manipulation… She had learned how to wield power as a woman in a man’s world. But today, in the presence of this man, she realized how inadequate those lessons were. Neonidas was a man who knew how to rule, and in his world, power was not determined by mere words but by will, resolve, and inevitable consequences.

As he crossed the room with heavy steps, Elenora tensed her rigid shoulders even further, unaware of the movement. Celeste’s tail flicked slightly, but the predatory glint in her eyes remained. Neonidas was closing the distance with the patience of a hunter stalking its prey.

“I expected someone like you to fight more,” Neonidas said, his gaze locked onto Elenora. His voice was calm, but the underlying force in it was undeniable.

Elenora frowned slightly, but her expression remained unshaken. “Do you know what it truly means to fight, Neonidas?” she asked, her voice soft yet as sharp as a dagger. “Real battle is surviving on the field, amidst swords and blood. Do you think war is just celebrating victories won by spilling the blood of others?”

Neonidas’ smile barely deepened. Elenora was one of the rare women who dared to challenge him. Most either cowered or surrendered when they saw the light in his eyes. But this woman… She had emerged from fire, hardened by battlefields, still holding onto something of her own.

“For someone who never set foot outside the palace until the last moment of war, you speak far too much about battle.”

His words fell over the room like a heavy shadow. Elenora frowned but did not step back. The fire in her eyes burned like a dagger lodged in her pride. Celeste, on the other hand, remained silent, watching, her slender tail twitching slightly. She had known the inevitability of this from the very beginning. There was no point in running or resisting—strength dictated the choices of the weak.

“If I were a man—”

Before Elenora could finish, Neonidas cut her off. “If you were a man, you would be dead. You are here, alive, because you are a woman. Don’t lose yourself in foolish dreams.” He paused for a moment before continuing. “Now, I must choose one of you. The one who will bear my child—the best mother. The rest will be sold as slaves to a wealthy noble.”

To mold a woman—to shape these two women into what he desired—Neonidas had to manipulate them. If they were to carry the child of a man they loathed, if they were to keep themselves from ending their own lives, he had to twist their minds.

In this scenario, Neonidas employed the concepts of sacrifice and kindness. Both women undoubtedly knew what awaited them if they were sold to some rich, filthy old man. And because they were sisters, bound by blood and an unbreakable bond, they would protect each other.

One of them would choose sacrifice, while the other would choose the path of kindness. That way, throughout their time with Neonidas, guilt wouldn’t torment them—or at least, they wouldn’t hate themselves for falling in love with him. That was Neonidas’ plan.

Elenora’s face darkened. Her lips pressed into a thin line, but she said nothing. For a brief moment, her gaze flickered to Celeste—her sister. The one who shared her blood, her pain, the one who had been by her side since childhood.

He was using their own weapons against them. Sisterhood, sacrifice, kindness… He was forcing them to offer themselves to him in order to save each other. And the terrifying part was how masterfully he played the game.

Celeste’s tail suddenly went still. The wild light in her eyes dimmed, darkened like a shadow. Elenora knew what she was thinking. Celeste was going to sacrifice herself. Just as she always did—to protect her. And Neonidas knew that as well. The best way to bind Elenora to himself was to take away the one thing she valued most. But Elenora was not as simple as Neonidas thought.

“May I ask you something, Neonidas?” Elenora’s voice was still steady, but something inside her had broken.

Neonidas tilted his head slightly. “Of course,” he said, his voice laced with mocking courtesy.

“If I become the concubine you desire, if I become a good mother to your children and serve you with all my heart… will you set Celeste free?”

First bingo. Sacrifice.

Celeste’s eyes widened in horror as she turned to her sister. The wild fire in her gaze flickered, replaced by raw fear. Elenora’s words had shattered her defenses in one swift blow. Neonidas had been expecting this. Like a predator sensing the perfect moment to strike, he narrowed his eyes, watching Elenora with a cunning smile curling at the corner of his lips.

“Interesting,” he murmured, rolling the word over his tongue. “You are offering yourself to me willingly. For your sister.”

Elenora did not avert her gaze. She lifted her chin, every line of her expression reflecting her struggle to preserve the last remnants of her pride.

“Yes,” she answered, her voice unwavering. “But I want to be sure you will keep your word. Will you set Celeste free?”

Neonidas took a few more steps. The distance between them had closed so much that Elenora could feel his breath on her face. He tilted his head slightly, studying her with the cold-blooded patience of a predator assessing its prey.

But as her eyes filled with tears, Celeste could no longer contain herself. “No! Whatever we go through, we go through together!”

And the second bingo. Kindness.

Thus, the two defiant sisters willingly offered themselves to Neonidas. This was how easy it was to manipulate the human mind.

Leaning back, a sly smile tugging at the corners of his lips, Neonidas exuded quiet triumph. The glint in his eyes burned like the last embers of a dying fire. He had led them exactly where he wanted. These two women now believed they had a choice, unaware that they were merely playing their parts in a script already written.

Neonidas stepped closer to Elenora. He gently lifted her chin with his fingers, tilting her face upward. He gazed deep into her eyes, searching for any lingering fire, any fragile resistance still flickering inside her.

“Your sacrifice is admirable,” he murmured, his voice carrying a deceptive softness—one that only skimmed the surface. “But what impresses me even more is your sister’s pure heart. She would risk everything for you.”

Elenora jerked her chin away from his touch, her defiance unbroken. Yet the very act of pulling away only emphasized her powerlessness. Celeste, on the other hand, had gone utterly still. Her ears were pinned back, her tail motionless. The warrior in her was searching for an escape, but her instincts whispered the truth—there was none.

Neonidas took a slow step back, regarding them both with an air of contemplation before exhaling softly.

“Very well,” he said at last. “I will give you a chance. Whoever satisfies me will stay. The other will be set free.”

Elenora’s eyes widened. “What do you mean?”

Neonidas tilted his head, his voice carrying a subtle note of mockery. “Do you really need me to explain?”

Elenora’s fingers curled into fists, her nails digging so hard into her palms that she nearly drew blood. Yet the stony mask on her face concealed the storm raging within. Celeste’s breathing had grown uneven, and the darkness in her eyes signaled the slow shift toward acceptance.

This was what Neonidas wanted—to corner them, to push them toward the inevitable… and to ensure they believed, in the end, that the decision was their own.

Some might call this cruelty, and indeed, it was. But the fate of fallen princesses was rarely better than this.

The most merciful end would have been a swift execution—death alongside their entire royal family. If they were lucky, they wouldn’t have suffered the horrors of the dungeons first. That would have been the best possible outcome.

The second-best option? Becoming concubines to the Emperor. But once his attention drifted elsewhere, they would suffer a far worse fate—tormented by the jealous women of the harem until they either died from poisoning or, if they were weaker, took their own lives to escape the misery.

What Neonidas was offering them could hardly be called mercy, but it was undeniably their best option.

In war, the downfall of a royal family never ended well—except in foolish Disney fairytales. Reality was harsh. And merciless.

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Celeste has also been added