This Red-Haired Villainess Is Actually Surprisingly Pure at Heart!

By Courtney Milnestein

Arrested by cosplayers!!?!

Abruptly, Charlotte finds herself in the middle of a video game she only faintly recalls from moments during the divorce of her parents—and what's worse, everyone has mistaken her for the spoilt villainess, Countess Marguerite Corvinus de domo Dragwlya! Now, apprehended by Japan's premier protectors, the Imperial Otomegumi, and staving off countless "rescue attempts" by the forces of the Countess on the moon, Charlotte must do her best to not only convince her captors of her innocence but also ensure that no one meets a sticky bad ending—herself included!

A villainess story with LGBTQIA+ themes recommended for fans of I'm in Love with the Villainess!, Cross-Dressing Villainess Cecilia Sylvie, and also Sakura Wars, This Red-Haired Villainess is definitely a villainess unlike any you have encountered before! Written by Courtney Milnestein (The New Adventures of Iris Wildthyme, All Cats Are Beautiful) and with a cover by fan-fave artist, Rei, stand by for a truly heartfelt adventure!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Black Saturn
• Release date: Aug 5, 2023
• ISBN: 9798215538678

Book preview

This Red-Haired Villainess is Actually Surprisingly Pure at Heart!

Courtney Milnestein

The moral right of the author to be identified as the Author of this Work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyright Designs and Patents Act 1988.

Copyright © Courtney Milnestein 2023

Cover by Rei

Editing and layout by Cat and Keyboard

This edition published by Smashwords

ISBN 9798215538678

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used factiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in, or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise), without the prior written permission of the publisher. Any person who does any unauthorised act in relation to this publication may be liable to criminal prosecution and civil claims for damages.

This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, resold, hired out, or otherwise circulated without the publisher’s prior consent in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition including this condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.

CONTENTS

I.

II.

III.

About the publisher

More titles by the author

I.

—Huh?

She turned, white Converse on dark stone, eyes wide, unsettled. It took a moment for her to register that the building behind her was on fire, that there was the sound of bells ringing in the air, of men shouting, of people passing buckets down a line.

"Huh?"

Embers drifted before her, smoke made her nostrils twitch, a sneeze that almost certainly would have followed had she not been suddenly interrupted.

"That’s enough! a voice shouted behind her, high-pitched and full of outrage. We’ll stop you this time, Marguerite Corvinus de domo Dragwlya!"

It took her a moment to realise that this comment was being directed at her. In fact, it was only when she felt the impact of a fist slamming into her face, knocking her to the ground, that she realised she was the subject of blame.

Trembling, she reached up and touched her face, tears in her eyes, turning with an expression of hurt. She had never been hit before. In fact, discounting being pushed around in the pit at gigs during adolescence, she had never experienced anything even remotely like the punch she had just received.

You hit me? she murmured, confused and disorientated, looking up through tears at the shape of a girl maybe a year or so younger than her, the sleeves of her cherry blossom yukata rolled up to the shoulders, hands balled into fists.

Get up! the girl above her shouted, and she could see two others behind her, though in the smoke and the dim light of dusk and the blurring of her tears, she could not make them out.

She stayed on the ground instead, holding a hand to the pain in her cheek. One moment she was at home, dozing at her desk, a book sprawled before her, putting off going to bed in the heat of a warm summer’s night, and then the next thing, she was—she was in front of a burning building, and getting hit in the face.

You hit me, she murmured again.

The outline of the girl before her shuddered visibly with anger.

After everything you’ve done, you should be grateful all I did was hit you!

That’s enough, Shizuka, called out one of the other girls, a smudge of sea green and blue, dark bobbed hair, a paper fan in her hand. We’re here to bring the countess to justice, not to decree punishment.

T-That’s right, said the third of the girls, younger sounding than the other two, apprehension and uncertainty in her voice, mousey brown hair, and an immaculate white yukata decorated with cream carnations. W-We can’t let ourselves s-sink to her level.

She blinked furiously, bringing her other hand up to wipe the tears from her eyes, trying to see the three women before her clearly—and when she did, she felt a vague and unnerving sense of familiarity.

Cosplay? she murmured uncertainly.

She recognised them, she thought. Not because they were real, not because they were people she had met before, but she knew these designs from somewhere, she had seen them before.

"Cosplay? the girl in the cherry blossom gown remarked, her voice rich with distaste. What the heck is cosplay?"

Her lips quivered, and she found herself forming an explanation even though the occasion did not merit one.

You know—

Enough! said the girl in blue, stepping forward and taking charge of the situation. There will be time for recrimination later. For now, take the countess into custody and let’s help the authorities.

Countess? she murmured. Custody?

With no answer forthcoming, she found herself being pulled up from the ground, the girl in pink—Shizuka, she remembered—forcing her arms behind her back, the other girl, the youngest one, placing handcuffs about her wrists.

Sorry if it hurts, the girl said quietly.

She felt the metal pinch the skin and felt a tremble run through her. She was being arrested! She was being arrested by cosplayers!

I think there’s some mistake, she murmured timidly. "Is this a joke? You know I’m not this countess lady,