A Psychopath Reborn as a Third-rate Villain

Chapter 7: The Duchess of HouseDarkmoor

Andras arrived before the dining hall with calm, measured steps.

Two armored guards stood silently beside the massive doors. The moment they noticed him approaching, their expressions grew even more rigid. A young maid waiting nearby lowered her head respectfully before pushing the doors open.

”Welcome, Young Master,” she said softly.

Andras entered without replying.

His expression remained calm and unreadable as he stepped into the hall.

The dining chamber of House Darkmoor carried the quiet grandeur expected of one of the kingdom’s most powerful noble families. Long crimson carpets stretched across polished marble floors, while silver chandeliers hung from the high ceiling overhead. Morning sunlight streamed through towering windows, blending with the warm glow of enchanted lamps mounted along the walls.

At the center of the hall stood a long blackwood dining table large enough to host dozens of nobles.

Yet only one person sat there.

Evelyne Darkmoor.

The Duchess of Darkmoor.

Andras’s eyes settled on her immediately.

Even after reading about her countless times in the novel, seeing her in person was an entirely different experience.

She possessed the kind of beauty that made ordinary women seem dull in comparison. Long golden hair flowed down her back like liquid silk, contrasting sharply with the dark blue gown wrapped elegantly around her figure. Silver embroidery traced the edges of the dress, forming intricate patterns resembling frost lilies blooming beneath moonlight.

Black lace gloves covered her hands, while a cloak of white fur rested lightly upon her shoulders, adding to the aura of authority she carried so effortlessly.

Her blue eyes were calm, yet piercing.

The kind of eyes that made people lower their heads without realizing it.

Although she was technically this body’s mother, she looked no older than twenty-five. Her mature beauty only enhanced the overwhelming presence that surrounded her.

Even Lyra’s beauty paled beside hers.

Andras immediately understood why Evelyne Darkmoor had once been described as one of the most desired women on the continent.

But beauty alone meant little in this world.

Power mattered far more.

And Evelyne possessed plenty of it.

In the original novel, she had been introduced as one of the strongest female mages alive. Her talent stood at the very peak of humanity.

S-Rank.

More precisely—S- Rank.

In this world, talents were divided into six major ranks: E, D, C, B, A, and S.

Each rank was further separated into three stages.

For example:

S-, S, and S+.

The difference between those stages was enormous.

An individual possessing an S-Rank talent could easily become a figure capable of influencing entire kingdoms.

Evelyne belonged to that level.

A true monster hidden beneath the appearance of a beautiful noblewoman.

As Andras silently searched through the memories left behind by the original owner of this body, one fact became obvious almost immediately.

Evelyne loved Andras excessively.

Perhaps too much.

Even though her daughter possessed greater talent, better judgment, and far more potential than Andras ever had, Evelyne openly favored her son.

Perhaps it was because she viewed him as fragile compared to his gifted sister.

Whatever the reason, her attachment bordered on obsession.

In the original story, Evelyne became the Duchess of House Darkmoor following the death of her husband, the former Duke.

Before that, she had merely been the daughter of a Count serving beneath House Darkmoor. Her marriage had been political, arranged to strengthen ties between noble families.

Yet after the Duke’s death, she seized complete control of the duchy and never allowed anyone to challenge her authority.

A woman capable of ruling an entire duchy alone could never be simple.

While Andras remained lost in thought, Evelyne suddenly rose from her chair and walked toward him.

The soft click of her heels echoed across the marble floor.

Then, without hesitation, she wrapped her arms around him.

Andras froze slightly.

Even with the original owner’s memories, the sudden embrace caught him off guard.

Warmth pressed against his chest as the faint scent of expensive perfume drifted through the air.

For a brief moment, he almost forgot that this woman was supposed to be his mother.

Her appearance simply made it difficult to associate her with that role.

Evelyne eventually pulled back and placed both hands on his shoulders, carefully examining him as though searching for hidden injuries.

”Andras,” she said softly, relief evident in her voice. ”I’m glad you finally woke up. I was beginning to worry.”

Her blue eyes moved across his face, inspecting every detail.

”Are your injuries healed?”

Andras met her gaze calmly.

”They’ve healed.”

Visible relief appeared on her face.

”That’s good,” she said quietly. ”You were unconscious for three days.”

A trace of coldness entered her eyes afterward.

”And your sister...”

She paused, clearly suppressing her irritation.

Andras remained silent.

Fragments of memory surfaced once more.

The duel.

The humiliation of defeat.

The rage.

Then darkness.

His sister had beaten him badly enough to leave him unconscious for days.

In truth, that battle had likely been the moment the original Andras Darkmoor died.

Evelyne sighed softly.

”She went too far this time.”

The displeasure in her voice was unmistakable.

Andras immediately realized something.

Evelyne blamed his sister far more than she blamed him, despite knowing her son’s personality perfectly well.

Interesting.

The favoritism within this family was even more obvious than he had expected.

”Mother,” Andras said calmly, ”the fight is already over.”

Evelyne studied him for several seconds before narrowing her eyes slightly.

”You seem different today.”

Outwardly, Andras remained composed.

Internally, however, his thoughts sharpened instantly.

Dangerous woman.

Most people would never notice such subtle changes so quickly.

Yet Evelyne’s instincts were frighteningly sharp.

Still, Andras answered without hesitation.

”Nearly dying tends to change people.”

Silence settled over the dining hall.

Then, unexpectedly, Evelyne smiled.

A small but genuine smile.

”A fair answer.”

The tension eased naturally.

At that moment, a maid approached and began serving breakfast. Fresh bread, roasted meat, sliced fruit, and steaming tea were arranged neatly upon the table before the servants quietly withdrew once more.

Andras took his seat across from Evelyne.

While appearing focused on the meal, he continued observing her carefully.

Beautiful.

Intelligent.

Powerful.

Every aspect of Evelyne Darkmoor made her dangerous.

And dangerous people were never easy to deceive.

Which meant he would need to be very careful around her from now on.