Damien Claybrook was perhaps the most sensual boy I'd ever met. Everything he did from his calm, methodical style of walking to the way he held his own cup, was different from other boys I'd seen.

He touched things as if they were exceedingly precious, as if whatever he happened to grasp at the time were his lover's hand. Even now as he moved to drink, when he brought the glass to his mouth, the way he sipped gave a sense of adult-like tranquility.

It was especially noticeable in how he looked at me, his sharp amethyst eyes drawing me into their depths. I was naked under that gaze, stripped bare. That's what it felt like.

During the course of this brunch I'd felt it many times. That hard, piercing stare. As if he was trying to see through me, to figure something out. Yet every time I looked he wasn't glancing at me at all.

I thought back to that kiss he gave me, how his lips brushed over my hand and left a searing warmth.

So naturally, as if he'd done it a thousand times and would do it a thousand more.

Yes. He definitely gave out a sensualistic aura. Almost hedonistic, even. And he was a very smooth talker as well, I noticed. He kept the coversation interesting and I laughed in spite of myself while he recounted this tale or that behind the numerous artworks on display

"But I don't like him at all." She thought to herself. "He's obviously a damn playboy! If there was something I hate more than anything else it's callous men like him who toyed with the innocent hearts of young maidens! People like him are just evil!"

Yes. I'd admit to having been somewhat caught off guard earlier. But that time had passed and I was easily able to see through his tricks now.

Father had often told me boys like this used honeyed words to get what they wanted all the time and that I shouldn't be so shallow as to fall for them.

You must showcase the dignity of a Princess, he'd said.

I looked at him. Just then I recalled a certain event from several years prior.

It was on his 12th birthday party, right? The day he swindled trinkets from little girls and swiped family heirlooms from the women. All when he was just a young boy.

The weeks after that, father told me later on, were pure chaos as unholy amounts of gold discreetly found their into the pockets of the Claybrook family.

This was never made public, of course, but several prominent Noble Houses nearly went destitute attempting to buy back the stolen goods.

It'd have been one thing if the heirlooms' price had been too high for some to afford. Yet every time the deal was about to fall apart the other party settled for what was offered. Which was the absolute maximum the payer would be able to give without going bankrupt.

And everyone knew who was to blame even though they never mentioned him in name.

I almost couldn't believe it when father told me. To think someone near my own age could be so ruthless.

Seeing how disgustingly host-like he was now I came to nderstand how he was capable of pulling off that little stunt back then.

"Lady Charlotte, your...no, let me get it."

While I was lost in my own thoughts

he spotted something on my face. And, without warning, his finger came and swiped gently at the scorner of my mouth.

A small piece of dark cream came into sight and he directly licked at it.

"A fine choice." He commented idly. "Of course I usually prefer vanilla to chocolate. Still, an excellent flavor. I wouldn't mind having another taste."

For a moment I thought he was talking about something else entirely, something far less suitable for the eyes of others to witness so openly. The words were a touch suggestive and my mind blanked.

This guy...

I wanted to bite him to death.

As I thought, this was his game. No wonder he'd been able to accomplish such a feat when he was so young back then. He took advantage of the girls' naive hearts and later distracted their mothers with a few flashes of violet before milking them for all their worth.

The image left me trembling in rage.

"What, just because you have a pretty face you think you can do whatever you want?" I sneered at him in the safety of my mind. "Well this Lady isn't as easily toppled."

Was it just due to his playboy habits that he seemed to treat me so well? I didn't know. I thought he might have other intentions. But I wouldn't give him the satisfaction of a win. As if this Princess could so easily be appeased.

To be honest he was the reason I agreed to come here, though. Besides the whole incident on his birthday, I also heard a lot of other rumours surrounding this "Purple-eyed Demon" to the point of wanting to meet him myself.

Considering who his father was, and how his sister was engaged to Alex now, my own curiosity all but forced me to come.

A young boy whose name was spoken like a curse, and was said to be the reincarnation of an ancient demon king?

He had to be interesting.

Plus I thought he must not nearly be as bad as people claimed.

My thoughts now, after meeting him? I didn't know about his other supposed misdeeds but his playboy attitude was clearly no lie and I'm sure he used it as a weapon whenever it was convenient.

Even though his passive, indifferent looks suggested not a care in the world.

"I'm going to become related to such a frivolous, low-down guy? I'm truly unwilling..."

"So, Alex, I hear you'll be going to the Dry Lands in a few months?"

Alex quickly nodded his head.

"Yes. My father wants me to study there for a while before I start school. He said it was good to broaden my horizons. I'm not sure how long it'll be though."

"Hm." Damien looked deep in thought. He seemed to want to say something but stopped himself.

Alex, quick to noticed the little details, spoke again.

"Ah, did you want me to pass along something to Lady Yesmina, perhaps?" His wide eyes were eager to please.

Poor Alex. He was terrified of Damien for a long time already and I could only imagine how he must be feeling right now. He acted tough and in control but he was still so young.

Damien seemed lost. "Who?" He tilted his head.

I was furious once more.

Damn bastard, at least have the decency to remember the poor girl! What, a flower once picked is no longer any good? I felt pity for the young maiden. The guy she liked was actually so heartless.

"Brother, I think he's talking about that tall cake-faced girl?"

The sister is also quite vicious!

From my memory Lady Yesmina did like to put on some gold colored kohl on her eyelids. It fit well with her smooth, dusky skin. But she didn't use enough to be called a cake-face! How mean!

What a perfect example of having a nice face but an evil heart!

"Hm." The brother just nodded. It was obvious he didn't remember at all. Cruel.

"Yup. Don't know her."

He even had the audacity to say it!

Alex blinked. "What? How? Doesn't she constantly send you letters?"

A light suddenly came to Damien's eyes. He hit his palm with a closed fist.

"Oh!" He exclaimed. "So is she the girl who keeps on sending Father all that mail? Hm, good thing I always throw them out. Why would I want to send anything back? Sorry, I don't associate with homewrecking women. I don't know why you think I would want to send anything to her in the first place?"

"T-Throw them out?"

"Homewrecker?"

Both me and Alex were dumbfounded.

I stared at the boy in shock. I hit the table. "Those letters are for you, you idiot!" I screamed. "Why the hell did you think they were for your father?! She's not even half his age! How can you not know who she is? How can you not know they were for you?"

He blinked. "How it my fault I can't remember her?" He frowned ever so slighty, his face making the move seem much colder than it was. " Also maybe she's a fan of Father or something? People say he's still a good-looking dude you know? Furthermore if they were for me why couldn't she use my name? Saying 'Mr. Claybrook' is so misleading! And, well, why would they be for me? I'm not close to any girls, you know? Except Dolly, that is."

"If you couldn't be sure who they were for why couldn't you just read it?!"

"Even if they were for me isn't it natural to assume they were rigged to explode or something? Plus it'd be rude to read someone else's mail."

The mail was yours!

Still. Some of that sounded a little reasonable. But...something he said also happened to sound weird?

"Lord Dam...Uh, I mean, Day...how many girls do you actually know?"

He took a few seconds to consider, then, "I don't think I know any?"

The hell? From what I could gather a whole lot of girls know him. They talk about him enough. That's how the playboy rumours started. But he says he doesn't know any.... Wait, wait, something was wrong here.

"I thought you were quite popular, though?"

"I'm not, though?" He asked through knit brows.

"No, that can't be. Don't you ever get any gifts from girls?" I knew he had to because I'd heard a few of the young noble Ladies crying about how they'd sent gifts and didn't even get a reply.

This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

At that time I chalked it up to them showing one-sided affection, knowing a lot of girls like a pretty face. It's only when I saw how much of dirty playboy pig he was acting like with me that I assumed they were played with and discarded. It's why I despised this guy so much right now.

But maybe I was wrong? He was saying he didn't even know any girls and he didn't look like he was lying so what the hell was going on here?

"Ah...those?" He sneered. "Please, I'm not that stupid. You think I don't know how many enemies I have? Hmph. Those bastards, trying to lull me into a false sense of security. Pretending to be girls and inviting me on "dates"...who would fall for that low-class kind of trap?"

I shook my head, trying to deny his words. "But during banquets don't you get invitations to dance a lot? I know you do, don't try to lie!"

Corianna specifically bragged about it once. She said something about how that guy was very picky with his dance partners and gloated about how special he must have thought she was to accept her invitation so readily.

"If you didn't know any girls and weren't popular with them then--"

He cut me off. "Oh yeah, sometimes girls do come up to me all blushing and asking to dance or whatever but I usually just refuse them outright. Such atrocious acting, do they think I don't know someone set them up to it? But some of them are actually nice girls so it'd be rude to refuse those ones. The others? If you believe they weren't set up by some of the boys to humiliate me or lead me somewhere for an ambush I would say you're way too naive! How bold would these girls have to be to send such letters? I don't believe those little ones have such big balls. Besides. This big bro is into mature women, hmph."

What a vulgar way to speak about young Ladies! How did he even distinguish them? Where there even these kind of attempts in the first place? Or was he just wronging girls based off his own misguided system?

And now the words Dahlia said earlier made more sense. So it was this guy's influence too...

Alex and I were speechless.

This...This....dense bastard! This idiot! Was he serious? Was he really that stupid? My gods....

I thought back again to how he'd kissed my hand the moment we met.

Damn, he was obviously a playboy but he was also such an airhead? What an amazing combination!

That was even worse than just being a playboy. At least playboys knew what they were doing when they were picking up women. But this guy kept making moves on young girls and didn't even know it? Wasn't that just leading them on? Making them feel special and stuff, getting them to send gifts and letters while cursing at them in return? Thinking they were all out to get him?

Something like this...was too abnormal. Plus what was with that last comment? Mature women? He's not even 15 himself and he's talking about wanting mature women?

Then he added, as if to himself, "I might be a bit handsome and just a tiny bit unruly but there's no way I could play around like that guy... Yeah. Stupid rumours. I'm definitely not some despicable playboy bastard who wants to go out seducing other people's women..." The last thing was almost too soft to hear.

Hm. At least he had SOME morals.

Just then the green-haired girl spoke up, unbidden.

"What about the time you tried getting Lord Avery's wife to run away with you?"

So he did those kinds of things afterall?! Give me back my compliment! This pig is the worst kind of playboy, someone who even dares to steal wives!

Damien coughed awkwardly. "What? Who's wife? Nonsense."

Such horrid acting. Just admit your wrongs, alright? This is too pathetic, okay?

"Was it also nonsense when you proposed to that one flower shop owner you saw on the way back from the city?"

"Hey, she was wearing fake cat ears. I couldn't help making a little mistake."

"Idiot, you know beastkin don't usually have such features. And she was a human. That aside, weren't you already taking her out to buy a ring by the time we found you? Her ears were off by then, too. Aren't you just a pervert?"

"A gentleman pervert, thank you very much." He corrected as if it were somehow an important distinction. "We weren't even going to buy a ring anyway, it was a necklace and she deserved it. That rotten boyfriend of her's left her for some floozy of a blacksmith's daughter, the bastard. It was purely to cheer her up."

Didn't that mean the woman actually left with him? What the hell? How could he flirt with older women so easily just like that, to the point of taking them out to buy jewelery? Just how "mature" was this guy?!

Actually how pervy was that woman to even fall for his words? Or was she just a gold digger? Even if she was, still, it was crazy how smoothly it all seemed to go!

"So the dinner date you had planned was also just to comfort her?"

He began to sweat. "What? How'd you know I--?"

"So you did?"

"...That's cheating."

"And now that I think of it, who was that little kid following you two? Daughter?"

"Oh yes. Lovely little thing."

"Don't tell me you only liked that woman because she was a mother." The girl monotoned.

"Of course not. Her rear was also top-notch. Plus her hips? Those were Grade-A birthing hips right there. And come on, the appeal of being a foster father is just too...tsk. Heh." He shook his head, chuckling. "Two for the price of one is a good deal in my book. Buy one milf get a loli free." He said incomprehensibly.

Or, well, no. The word milf was one that'd secretly become popular as of late and though it's meaning escaped most at first hear, I myself had come across it multiple times from my older brother.

So for this other word, "loli"...if you combine it with the context it was easy to understand.

This guy....so utterly shameless.

"You really aren't interested in girls your own age?" I'd thought the rumours and Dahlia's words from before were exaggerations. Yet...

The boy smiled serenely and said, "All girls under the age of 20 can only be my little sister."

His eyes seemed to continue on and say, 'Boys can like girls but a man needs a woman, understand?'

I was even more dumbfounded. I felt sorry for all the girls who had a crush on this weird guy.

If he didn't see you as a scheming cat, he placed you firmly in the "little sister" category. His tastes were just too extreme for his age!

"Sisters?"

Dahlia perked her ears up at his words but said nothing more. She just stared at him for several long seconds.

I felt the strangest chill just then. Was there a draft coming from somewhere?

"Right. Well I think we've heard enough." I stood up and dragged Alex with me. "Come on, let's go."

Staying in the same room as this guy was making me so angry and confused I was starting to feel sick.

Not to mention these other two weirdos. And I didn't even know what was up with that other boy beside Damien. He seemed content to just stare out the window and hum a little tune to himself.

"Huh? But, Lady Dahlia..."

Gah, was he really so hung up on that girl? All this time all he'd done was stare at her.

He was never so tongue-tied when meeting the other young Noble girls so why was he like this with her?

As expected, she was as much a mind-manipulating vixen as her brother was a no-good playboy.

Even though she didn't do anything, or really said anything, but even so!

That mother of their's probably used weird seduction techniques on the father, too, else how could a man with a heritage and career as illustrious as his marry some no-name woman?

I had to get Alex out of here before he picked up that guy's bad habits and became ensnared by that girl's web.

This engagement had to end!

I'll talk to brother about it later and get him to see reason.

"I'm tired and want to go home. Lord Damien, Lady Dahlia, it was... to meet you." She couldn't say anything pleasant so she deliberately skipped a word. "Let's continue this some other time."

I all but dragged Alex out the door. "Lady Dahlia, as she said, we can pick this up another time. I look forward to it!" He stiffened up all of a sudden. "Um, beg your pardon, Lord Damien. I-If you'll excuse me.

I was just about to push him out the door. But someone gripped my shoulder, quite firmly, and I found myself rooted to the spot.

"What, trying to leave already? Heh, don't be so hasty, sister-in-law, lil bro. The fun's just started!"

For some reason I felt another, even odder chill.

***

I sorely underestimated the playboy talent Damien possessed.

This was the thought that ran through my head as his hands covered my own. The sudden warmth and intimacy caused me to stiffen up like a log.

To explain, he'd taken us outside and put a bow in my hand. I didn't know what to do with it since I'd never used one before and I really didn't want to make a fool of myself. But he was stubborn so I reluctantly went along. Took a position and aimed.

Apparently I was already messing up though because he'd walked up behind me and adjusted my stance in a manner I found far too inappropriate.

This guy, I thought. Such a despicable rogue! How can he just casually touch a young maiden like this?

And openly too, where anyone can stop and stare! So embarrassing!

I could feel the bow shake as I struggled to concentrate.

But then thought, why let this bother me? Didn't the previous conversation tell me the guy was just an airhead? Even though he's a natural playboy bastard, he probably doesnt even mean it!

And just look at his face, so serious and indifferent.

Since he doesnt mind, why should I? If it's only me being conscious of the situation it makes it look like I'm the one with a vulgar mind!

So, feign ignorance. Yes. Don't pay attention to anything else right now at all, simply focus on the target.

And I did.

I didn't even notice at all how good he smelled or how much heat his body radiated in complete and pleasing contrast to the chilly winds.

Or how Alex looked at me in horror, either. Which reminded me, don't think I didn't hear what was said earlier, moss-hair! Touch our family's Alex and see what happens!

A second later and woosh, there it went.

I didn't even wait to see it land, just stepped away and asked, "Are we done yet?"

"You don't wanna know your result?" He shot back.

And see how epically I failed? No thanks. I hated losing, especially at things I knew I wasn't good at.

It's like you wanted to prove something by working harder at it but come up short despite your effort anyway.

The disappointment you saw in others when they expected more, or the gloating gleam you found in the winners, was too annoying to deal with.

But it's not like I DIDN'T try. I just hated the feeling of incompetence that came after.

A person should stick to the things they had a talent in. Wasting time on something you knew you'd never get anywhere with was just pathetic and made you feel bad about yourself.

So no, I didn't want to see.

As someone who'd never picked up even a toy sword before, how would I do at this? Awful, I was certain.

I knew I'd be terrible at it but I still did it because then at the very least I could say I didn't back down.

That's just how I was. Masochistic? Maybe. But I didn't want to become the kind of person who bashed things without attempting them. How much more pathetic would you look to others then? How much more pathetic would you look to yourself?

Besides.

A Princess didn't have to be good at everything, they just had to handle everything with dignity befitting their status.

So I didn't get frustrated. I only took a second to compose myself and shake my head.

"Not needed." I smiled. "A Lady has no time for rough play like this in any case, so it doesn't matter."

"Yeah, but you wanna be good at it."

"What? No I don't. "

"Yeah, but nah. You're lyin'. You're face says 'I wanna look' so bad right now. "

"You're lying. Lying, I say."

"No, no, you're lyin', not me. You're thinking, 'I probably whiffed it, but maybe not?'"

"I have no idea what you're talking about."

"...Tsk. Kids these days. So dishonest."

"You're a kid too." I reminded.

He waved it off. "Debatable. Regardless, I'm not the one who can't handle disappointment."

"What're you getting at?" I narrowed my eyes, not liking his condescending tone at all.

"You don't want to look just 'cause you're afraid you missed. But you can't be sure so you also want to look, you simply refuse to because you're being childish and don't want to feel like a loser for something you think you're not good at. Tsk, tsk, tsk. Can't fool this big bro. I've got loads more life experience than you, brat."

"Ridiculous." I dismissed, sounding quite indignant. And brat? Really? The hell...

I was NOT a brat. He was. Shut up.

...BUT HOW THE FLYING FUDGE DOES HE KNOW ALL THAT?!?!?!?!

Psychic, he's psychic, right?!

&^%*#!!

I was freaking out.

But calmly. With dignity.

Like a Princess.

...He seriously can't read my mind, right?

"No, you're just easy to read. Speaking of, don't ever try playing poker."

He can!

"!!!"

"Jeez. Calm your tits, kid."

The rumours were right, he really is a demon king!

"You said that out loud. You understand that, right? That hurt my feelings, okay? Here, feel my pain, feel it." He flicked me on the forehead. It hurt.

"Bastard." I whispered in my heart.

Flick.

No, like I said, in my heart. Oh never mind that...Hey asshat, I though venomously. Im a Princess, you know? A Princess! You can't just--!

Flick.

Are you ASKING for a beheading, huh, ya damn dirty ba--?

Flick.

"Ah!"

It hurts! It seriously hurts!

"Hurts, doesn't it? As does my heart." He wiped away a fake tear. "Keep it up and my Devil's Left is going to have a new playmate, then you and Vee can compare notes. Now knock it off. Look." He pointed.

I rubbed my stinging war wound and begrudgingly followed his finger.

There, embedded in the head of human-like stuffed figure, was an arrow.

"...Huh." I muttered.

It hit.

It hit?

It hit!

"Feels good, right?"

Good? Good? Did he not see how far away that target was? Isn't it amazing? This is my first time, you know? It was more than good, it was awesome!

[This novel has been published to Amazon and Google Playbooks The rest of this chapter and the entirety of volume 1, namely chapters 1-75--in addition to all the side chapters--have therefore been taken down. However, you can read chapters 75 and onwards for free.

https://www.royalroad.com/amazon/B085HMH7NP

https://play.google.com/store/books/details/CupcakeNinja_My_Sister_The_Villainess?id=cVXUDwAAQBAJ

Continuing past this chapter will bring you to Volume 2.

...If you love memes, cute tree spirits and general random chaos fueled by weed and soda, then you, my friend, have come to the right place.]