Transmigrated as the Villainess Princess - Chapter 220

Chapter 220: The Goddess of Revenge (10)
Ricardo had long suppressed the memories of that night, but now, trapped in this cold, suffocating dungeon, they clawed their way back to the surface like a buried curse finally unearthing itself.

He had been young, barely in his mid-twenties, full of resentment and self-loathing. No matter what he did, he would always be the weakest among his brothers, the least talented, the least favored.

The heir should have been Dareth, the eldest, or even Galren, whose strength was unmatched. But circumstances had twisted fate, and somehow, Ricardo had been named Duke. He had not earned it.

He had not fought for it. He had only inherited it because of their deaths. That night in the Sirius Kingdom, he had been drunk beyond reason, stumbling through the unfamiliar, misty woods after an evening spent drowning in self-pity.

He had left the capital city, seeking solace, but had only found himself lost, his feet dragging through the damp earth, his vision swimming with the weight of alcohol and unfulfilled ambition. And then he saw her.

She had been standing beneath the canopy of the towering silver trees, her silhouette illuminated by the moon. A woman dressed in black with a cloak draped over her shoulders, her hood partially concealing her features.

He had thought her a hallucination at first, a ghost sent to torment him. But when he collapsed at her feet, gasping for breath, she knelt beside him.

“You are lost,” she had said, her voice like a whisper woven from shadows and moonlight.

Ricardo had laughed bitterly. “I’ve always been lost.”

She had helped him up, her hands steady and strangely warm despite the cold. She had led him through the forest without hesitation and guided him as if she had known he would come to her, like fate had let them meet this way.

When they reached the outskirts of a secluded town, she brought him to an inn, ensuring he had a place to stay. He should have passed out the moment his head hit the pillow, but something inside him refused to sleep.

The woman had turned to leave, but in his drunken desperation, he had caught her wrist. “Help me,” he had pleaded. “Help me become more than this.”

She had tilted her head, considering him with something unreadable in her eyes. “And what would you give me in return?”

Ricardo had not even hesitated. “Anything.”

The woman had smiled, her lips curving into something both cruel and amused. “Then swear it.”

He had been too far gone to think twice. He had sworn an oath to her made under the influence of wine and hopeless ambition. He had promised to give her whatever she desired, to make her happy no matter the cost. And then, just before he finally lost consciousness, he saw her face clearly for the first time.

Fiorensia. The woman he had married and betrayed. Ricardo’s body trembled violently as he sat shackled in the dungeon. The realization was suffocating. Fiorensia had not merely been a woman who entered his life by chance.

She had chosen him. She had bound him to her long before he thought he had power over his destiny. And yet, he had repaid her with nothing but betrayal.

I wish I could turn back time. None of this would have happened. But I was greedy.

He had given her his word, and he had broken it. His breath came in ragged gasps as the horror of it all crashed over him. She had never needed to manipulate him, never needed to deceive him. He had handed himself over willingly, asked for her aid, and sworn to make her happy.

And what had he done? He had cast her aside for a woman unworthy of standing in her shadow. Ricardo lifted his gaze to the dungeon door, the iron bars cold and unyielding.

Fiorensia had every right to destroy him, to make him suffer for eternity. He had played the fool, had believed himself to be the master of his fate when he had been nothing but a pawn on her board. He wanted to scream, to tear at his flesh, to demand why she had let him live when she could have ended it all with a single breath.

But he knew the answer. Death was too kind. She wanted him to remember. She wanted him to relive every choice, every mistake, every twisted consequence of his actions. And then the door creaked open again. Fiorensia stepped inside, her presence as suffocating as ever.

Her red eyes glowed in the dim light, her expression unreadable. She did not speak immediately. She merely studied him as if he were something long decayed yet still clinging to existence.

Ricardo swallowed, his throat dry. He wanted to say something, to beg, to confess, to do anything that might lessen the crushing weight of guilt inside him. But the words would not come.

Fiorensia finally spoke, her voice soft yet sharper than any blade. “Do you remember now?”

His lips parted, but all that escaped was a shuddering breath.

She took a slow step forward, her gaze never wavering. “Do you remember the oath you made?”

Ricardo clenched his fists, his nails biting into his palms. “I…”

“You swore to make me happy.” Her voice was void of emotion, but he could hear the echoes of something deeper beneath the surface, something that sent a shiver down his spine. “And yet, Ricardo, you did the exact opposite.”

He had no defense. No excuses. No justifications left.

Fiorensia tilted her head slightly. “Tell me, did Lotisia make you happy?”

His chest tightened. “No.”

“Did betraying me make you happy?”

“No.”

“Then why did you do it?”

Ricardo exhaled shakily. “I… I don’t know.”

A long silence stretched between them before Fiorensia crouched down to his level. Her eyes bore into his, endless pools of crimson that seemed to see through every layer of his soul.

“I never needed love from you, Ricardo. I never needed loyalty. I only needed you to keep your word.”

His vision blurred, shame coiling around his throat like a noose.

Fiorensia straightened, turning away from him. “You will rot here,” she said simply. “You will live until your own guilt devours you.”

Ricardo’s body slumped forward, his chains rattling as he stared at the ground. He did not fight, did not protest. Because for the first time in his life, he understood. He had sealed his fate the moment he had broken his oath.