Villain's Odyssey: Enslaving heroines, Conquering Villainesses-Chapter 77: The Trap

Knock.

Knock.

The sound echoed through the dorm room, followed by hurried footsteps and the soft click of a lock turning.

"You came?" Maria appeared in the doorway, her snow-white hair catching the afternoon light streaming through the hallway windows. Her almond-shaped eyes held a radiant smile that seemed to illuminate her entire face, making her look almost ethereal in the golden hour glow. She wore a fitted cream-colored sweater that hugged her curves in all the right places, paired with a flowing VERY short white skirt that swayed with her waist as she moved. Her hair fell in loose waves past her shoulders, framing her heart-shaped face perfectly.

"Yeah, I said I would," Asher replied, working hard to keep his emotions in check. It was oddly unsettling how much her betrayal back when he was Azalea still affected him.

The rational part of his mind knew it shouldn’t matter. As Azalea, he’d always been painfully aware that she despised him. Even a blind man could have seen it. The way she’d look at him with barely concealed disgust, even while maintaining that practiced smile she always wore around him. It had been as clear as a cloudless sky.

But this smile was different. This one made her look like someone who had wandered through a desert for years and finally stumbled upon an oasis.

Which made absolutely no sense.

Maria was supposed to be a heroine—one destined for a protagonist from the Arcane Legacy, not for Austin or anyone else at this stage. She’d been engaged to Ansley originally, though she hadn’t liked him much either. In fact, from the very beginning, she’d been portrayed as someone who had given up hope of ever truly falling in love. That was precisely why Austin, with all his smooth talk about being ’free,’ had never been able to make her look his way. She was just that difficult to reach.

The reason was simple enough: from childhood, she’d always known she would eventually be engaged to some random noble for political influence. The chances of that person being someone she actually liked were slim to none. Sure enough, her fears had materialized when she was engaged to Azalea. She’d tried at first to genuinely like the guy, but it simply hadn’t worked. Aside from the fact that he was an obvious simp for her friend Isabelle, he was weak, cowardly, and perpetually foolish. Instead of growing fond of him, she’d come to despise him thoroughly.

That was why when she’d gotten engaged to Ansley—who was infinitely more bearable than Azalea—she’d actually preferred it. She’d resigned herself to the fate of eventually becoming his wife, even without loving him. Well, that had all changed when that guy came around. With just the right amount of ’coincidences,’ she’d been swept off her feet completely.

But Asher could see no reason—absolutely no damn reason—for that to happen now. They’d barely spoken, and she already seemed like a maiden hopelessly in love. His logic couldn’t come up with any reasonable explanation for this development.

"Come in," she said, stepping aside gracefully. The movement caused her sweater to shift slightly, revealing a glimpse of her collarbone. Her perfume—something floral with hints of vanilla—wafted toward him as he passed. He nodded and walked past her into the room, trying to ignore how her proximity made his pulse quicken despite his wariness.

"It seems you live alone," he observed, glancing around the spacious dorm. The room was meticulously decorated with soft pastels and elegant furnishings that spoke of wealth and refined taste, completely different from Jenny’s taste. Fresh flowers sat in crystal vases on various surfaces, and the afternoon light streaming through sheer curtains gave everything a warm, inviting glow.

"I do. I wasn’t assigned a roommate this time," she confirmed with a nod, closing the door behind them with deliberate care. The soft click of the lock seemed unnaturally loud in the quiet space.

"Here," she said, moving toward the dining area and pulling out a chair with an almost ceremonial care.

"Alright, but I can’t stay too long. I have somewhere else to be after this," he said, noting the way her expression immediately grew complicated. A shadow passed across her features, and for just a moment, something darker flickered in those almond eyes.

"But you can have lunch, right?" she asked, and something in her tone made him pause to study her more carefully. There was an edge of desperation there, carefully hidden beneath her sweet exterior.

"Please, I promise it won’t take long," she added before he could respond, her voice taking on a pleading quality that made her seem almost vulnerable.

He nodded slowly, recognizing something familiar in her demeanor. If there was one thing he could sense radiating from her, it was desperation.

She seemed so desperate to have him stay with her, and that desperation screamed of one thing: Emilia.

He’d felt this exact same feeling before, and his danger senses were already tingling like crazy. Being here felt like walking through a minefield—any wrong move could trigger a lunatic like the one from his past.

Still, the reason he was here was to figure out why she was acting this way. He wouldn’t be naive enough to think his looks alone had caused such a dramatic shift. There was definitely something else at play. After all, she’d looked at him very strangely back when he’d introduced himself in class, and even when he was walking toward Tracy, her expression had been... odd.

"Alright then," he said, taking the offered seat.

She practically flew to the kitchen and began bringing out dish after dish. Within minutes, the entire table was covered with an impressive spread of food that made Asher’s eyes widen in genuine surprise. The aroma alone was intoxicating—rich stews, perfectly seasoned vegetables, tender meats, and delicate pastries that looked like they belonged in a high-end restaurant.

"You made all this?" he had to ask. He needed to know.

"Yes, try it," she said, settling into the chair across from him with expectant eyes. She leaned forward slightly, her sweater pulling taut across her chest as she watched him with an intensity that was both alluring and unsettling.

"Sure," he replied, though his mind was racing. There was maybe a fifty percent chance she’d poisoned something, but then again, she probably wouldn’t risk it given that Jenny had been present when she’d invited him. If anything happened to him and he went missing, she’d have to deal with Jenny as well, which was practically impossible.

He picked up the cutlery and examined what looked remarkably like green beans in some kind of savory sauce. The dish was beautifully presented, with herbs and spices that made his mouth water despite his caution. Deciding to start there, he took a cautious bite.

Then another.

The flavors exploded across his tongue—rich, complex, perfectly balanced. It was like nothing he’d ever tasted before, each ingredient complementing the others in a symphony of taste that made him forget his suspicions entirely.

Huh?

He took two more bites, then three more.

’What the hell?!’

Before he knew it, he was devouring everything on the table without even realizing that Maria had left her seat and brought her chair around to sit beside him. A twisted grin played across her face—one that Asher was too lost in the food to notice—as she began gently rubbing his back. Her touch was warm and surprisingly soothing, her fingers working in small circles that seemed to melt away any remaining tension.

"Just take it easy," she purred, her words sliding into his ears like honey. Her breath was warm against his ear, and he could smell her perfume more strongly now, mixed with the subtle scent of cooking spices that clung to her clothes. "I can always make more."

’Eat some more... you’ll need the energy,’ she thought to herself, watching him with predatory satisfaction. Her eyes gleamed with something that went far beyond simple attraction—there was possession there, quite a dangerous level of it.

The food seemed to get better with every bite, each dish more incredible than the last. His rational mind tried to sound alarm bells, but they were muffled by the overwhelming sensory experience. Maria’s hand never left his back, her touch growing bolder as she traced patterns along his spine through his shirt.

"You’re so tense," she murmured, her fingers working more deliberately now. "Just relax. Let me take care of you."

...

...

Meanwhile, across campus...

"Ugh," a voice groaned softly.

In the infirmary, a girl slowly opened her eyes to find herself staring at the sterile white ceiling. Tracy pushed herself up slowly, her head pounding with each movement. The antiseptic smell of the medical wing filled her nostrils, sharp and clinical compared to the earthy scents she remembered from before everything went dark.

She closed her eyes again, took several deep breaths to center herself, then turned her head toward the door. The movement sent a spike of pain through her skull, but she gritted her teeth and pushed through it.

"We failed, I presume," she said coldly, pushing herself up to a sitting position. Her voice was hoarse, barely above a whisper, but it carried clearly in the quiet room.

She sighed heavily, the sound echoing in the quiet room. The events leading up to her collapse came flooding back—the confrontation, the magic that had gone wrong, the way everything had spiraled out of control so quickly.

"Az..." she muttered, staring at the wall in contemplation. Her voice carried a mixture of frustration and something that might have been hurt. "Did you deceive me again?"