The Villainess was Loved

Chapter Six: Respect the Pecking Order

Étienne Norvig Yarez

She loved him.

Of that, he was certain.

Since Arusei’s summoning to the palace, since the god awful carriage ride, he had dreamed of her...

She blushed at his every call in his dreams and whimpered after each soft touch.

They were both older there, so he was convinced they were clairvoyant indicators. Indicators that she was meant to be his, Arusei, and a blonde bombshell he had never in his life seen. Yet still, there she had been, clinging tightly to his woman.

“Lady Alpensa,” he said naturally as he rectified his hold on her slim waist, “I am glad you decided to wait for me, and as we discussed earlier, I shall walk you to the dorms.”

Lady Alpensa’s green gaze hardened into a deep frown, contrary to his expectations.

Why?

Why did she still hold a bitter gaze towards him? As though the very notion of her holding affection towards him neared blasphemy?

He had seen how deeply she was ‘his’ in the repetitions of his dreams, so why did she not behave accordingly…

No, he would seem mad if he were to say that out loud. Still then, what was it? Need he woo her to achieve that future?

That has to be it, woo or terrify her into his arms.

“Firstly, your highness, as we are not courting, I find it imperative to inform you that I do not appreciate your hands on my waist.”

He stiffened, her words ringing bitterly in his ears, damning every once of civility in his body.

*

*

*

Lady Arusei E. Alpensa

The room grew tense at my words.

I did not intend to downplay them or act coy; instead, I peeled his highness’s hands off my body as though they would stain my uniform.

“While I appreciate both your highnesses for conversing with someone of my stature. I feel I must excuse myself at this time.” I smiled then slid past Étienne’s shocked demeanour. “I bid both princes goodnigh-.”

“Arusei.” The crown prince called before my getaway was complete.

 “If you do not wish for others to see us together, then why not let Gaston escort you?” his voice came off more strained than expected, reflecting more emotion than his visage.

Is he... is he trying to imply that we are more than…

Gods…but he is still the same. Down to his childish tactics!

He thrived in vague ideologies, so he often threw out such sentences, leaving one to their own misunderstanding.

“Your concern, while riveting, your highness.” I responded quickly, “Leaves me guilty of prioritising my safety over the crowns’.”

“Then take Leon. I doubt many will be worried about my safety.” Prince Killian interrupted, an amused look dressing his face.

“And leave thousands of broken hearts peppered on my doorstep, nonsense, your highness.” I turned toward the librarian’s desk. “Goodnight.”

I was quicker this time, in my escape, that is. Two of the books held in my hand were already borrowed, meaning I did not have to waste precious time with the librarian. As for the shoddy romance book, it was quite easy to place it on the return pile near the exit.

“Miss! Miss!” the librarian beckoned. However, have I not had enough for one day?

I neither turned nor acknowledged that I was the one summoned; instead, I walked out into the cold early evening.

The walk to the dorm was peaceful; however, I could sense them, the unnatural lust-filled gazes.

All three were from above.

Men.

Two had knives in hand, while one had an unaimed bow.

The men did nothing, merely stare as though trying to understand my routine.

What neat assassins he sent, indeed, worth every penny.

However, if they knew anything about me, they would know to avoid anything green.

“ARUSEI!!” The harshness of Étienne’s voice rang deeply to my core as he gripped my hand tightly, forcing me to halt on my path.

“Your highness?” the tremble in my voice was not theatrics. I genuinely had not heard him stalk after me.

Shit, I need to get the roar of my mana in control.

“I- sorry, I did not mean to startle you.” He cleared his throat then loosened his grip, “Your father sent word that you were ill; hence you could not visit the palace on Sunday.”

“Yes, your highness.”

“When do you plan to send a letter seeking his majesty’s audience?”

I don’t.

“Your highness, there are still some factors I am putting into consideration.”

“If I were you, I would rush those ‘factors’.”

“See.” I smiled, “I knew it.”

He frowned.

“Know what?”

“That I find more comfort in your threats than concern.”

*

*

*

“The North, while primarily occupied by those of the elven race, host hundreds of other non-human species, dragons, wyverns, basilisks and the likes.”

“In fact, rumour has it the Duchess of the north, her grace, Duchess Liodguda has her very own set of dragons, all retrieved by adventurers who travelled her land as a sort of gift for her hospitability.”

“Is that the case, Ulir?” the lecturer, professor Moseby asked.

The entire class turned their gazes in the direction of the daughter of the most prolific entertainer in the Empire, Ulir Canesse.

An impossibly lucky, platinum-haired, elven beauty.

“It is as you say,” she began, her pale yellow gaze holding the professor's steadily, “however, the dragons were not gifts. The aforementioned adventurers raided a dragon’s lair and took the eggs. The Duchess could not take them back to their lair because it was destroyed during the raid, so she raised them. Dragons are not pets. The beasts choose their masters, unlike humans, of course.”

Her last statement left the class sneering; however, I oddly related to it.

The nobles sat on the top floor of the lecture hall while commoners sat on the ground floor. It was the commoners that attracted me most.

The bell rang, and the class was dismissed; of course, it was nobles first. The second bell would dismiss the commoners; however, that was hardly noticeable because the commoners always looked more friendly with each other than this godforsaken half.

I stood from my seat and walked towards the stairs leading to the ground floor. I did not carry any book; there is nothing to learn in such a class setting.

That, and I have a photographic memory.

I am unsure if it is a shared trait between Arusei and me; however, I had the same ability in my previous life.

 A hard hand gripped mine as I reached the last steps.

“Uh, where the hell do you think you are going? The exit is that way!” the pigtailed girl holding my hand said.

Her face looked familiar, but I could not place it, perhaps a baron’s child?

It was obvious what she meant. A noble speaking to an unknown commoner in public would disrupt Pricilla’s system.

Pricilla Norvig Yarez, the princess.

Because, of course, even a villain needs their villain.

I sighed perhaps a little too audibly. I am in no mood to play ‘kiss the insecure princess’s ass’.

“Unhand me,” I said curtly, and a sneer crossed her face.

“Unhand you? I am trying to help you.” She pursued, “If Pricilla-,”

My hand struck her cheek before she managed to complete her sentence.

“I did not stutter my command, yet your hand remains pensively on mine, is there a reason for that?”

The halls grew quiet when the loudness of the slap rang. We were not in view; however, the second bell had yet to ring.

“You…you struck me?”

The back of my free hand struck her other cheek with such harshness that her head followed the direction of the force.

“You bastard!! You are not even of noble blood!!” she whispered harshly, perhaps to avoid an audience, and, again, my hand found her cheek.

Finally, the pigtailed girl raised her hand in preparation for retaliation, a predictable move.

“Are you certain?” her hesitation grew; it was evident in her taut flinch, “I may not be of noble blood, but I guarantee, as the adopted daughter of the Marquis, I am above you. If I return your attack, I can do so until you bleed out, perhaps even until you require a physician, whereas, as soon as you lay a hand on me, not even lay, as soon as I claim that you put your hands on me, the school guards will be on your neck. You, little pigtail, will be mere seconds from expulsion.”

“So again, I ask you, are you certain?”

My reputation would dampen with my accusations, but that did not make it less true.

The Royal Academy worked on a hierarchy system, a personal induction into the Empire of Norvig.

Though duels were allowed, fights were not tolerated, more so against a noble.

Some guards, however, were corrupt such that they took the side of the highest ranking in the fight. That was where my threat came in, in the ‘what if’ factor.

Duels between high-ranking royalties, the member of the imperial family explicitly, was forbidden because none but the members of the imperial family, knights included, had permission to stop them.

The academy did have some dukes and duchesses who served as guest lecturers, but mostly, their offspring or relatives held the permanent position; hence, the rest of the students were permitted duels.

Duels can only be halted by the highest-ranking person in the area.

With her hand trembling in anger, the girl before me let go of my hand, then turned so hard her hair nearly smacked my face.

The second bell rang, and I near cursed for the time wasted.

The person I wished to see was already at the exit, so I had to literally push through a sea of people just to catch up.

It was no use, all I could see was the brown of her knapsack, and even that was fast fading.

Wait, a knapsack?

The art room!

*

*

*

“You must be Breca,” I said as casually as possible to the round-faced and brown-haired girl as I struggled to catch my breath.

It wasn’t that she had appeared in the room as soon as the politics lesson was over or that I had rushed here from the class, I had actually spent near six hours here, and I had gotten so bored that I began working out.

Yes, in the six hours, I had missed several classes. However, who would notice?

Economics and Politics were the only classes Breca and I had together; however, on days that Breca went to the art room, she carried an ugly brown knapsack on her back.

I noticed this because of the rumours that surrounded her. No one knew why she carried such a godforsakenly ugly item in a school that favoured beauty and luxury; thus, she was the subject of speculative gossips.

It was only until three years after graduation when I found out she worked as the southern Duchess’s artistic cleanup lady.

By ‘clean up’, I mean she was a murderer. An artistic murderer who could travel through her paintings.

So her method of ‘clean up’ would be to paint a scary layout, then send those who disappointed the ‘Red Duchess’ in for a survival tournament. Those who survived were freed; however, none survived. None but quite obviously any of the chosen male leads that pulled through the final stretch of the story with Regina.

In any case, all Breca is currently, is a portal to leave school grounds without tedious paperwork. The bag held her change of clothes.

“Ah, Lady Alpensa, I presume.” Breca acknowledged, her peach eyes holding an ample innocent sparkle, but I knew better. 

“No formalities, please.” I sighed, “Sit, we should talk,”

“Aha… at the moment, lady Alpensa, I find myself-,”

“It was not a suggestion.” I said curtly, “It will be troublesome if you take it as such.”

“Of course.” Breca gripped her bag tighter, uncomfortable at my insistence.