The Villainess was Loved

Chapter Ten: And…Scene!

My hand crept to the base of the mahogany table, where the linen did not cover.

I took a deep breath then let mana flow wildly into the table until I could feel leaves sprout from the forming plant-like veins.

I bought whatever time I could by coughing mid-sentence; however, my germs neither fazed their curiosity nor inspired interruption from the Princess.

“I am sorry, I had something in my throat. As I was saying, my name is….”

A creak emanated from the base as the vines creeping from my fingers absorbed the little moisture keeping the mahogany alive, and finally, the entire table collapsed.

Sharp shrieks from all corners filled the room as the ladies stood abruptly, securing what little they could of their dresses and purses while the tea and their designated fire stones meant to keep them warm wreaked their havoc.

Every hired knight in the room sprang to action, assisting their masters in the collection of themselves. The knights whose masters were secure tried to separate the now sparking fire stones, only seconds from a mini-explosion.

Without my mana supply, my summoned plant would wither; with that in mind, slipping out from the lively meeting was easy.

Louder shrieks flooded the halls as soon as I reached the stairs meaning my deduction had been correct; the sparking stones started a fire.

Now even the ashes of my plants will be lost. Still, this is exhausting.

As though the mental confirmation was not enough, I said the words once more to my reflection in the staircase mirror.

“This is exhausting,”

My reflection resembled that of a drowned puppy.

Uniform wet, hair glued to my cheeks and eyes dreadfully dead.

“Ha! Hafsa, you are too far from home.”

In another life, I owned that name.

A life where I was a university botany major, a mere thirty days from graduation. A life where I slid as I was fixing our TV’s antenna atop our shitty apartment complex one rainy day.

It should have been my brother's turn to adjust the tv’s antenna.

It should have.

I proceeded down the stairs, where the lower nobility was stationed, the stench of blood quite obviously pooling from my room.

Gods, but did I not warn her to leave the room before midnight?

Did she think that that was my attempt at showcasing my authority?

'Oops.'

Arusei has no mana; at least that was the lie I lived because everyone feared her actual tremendous powers.

That was how the original story went; the marquis feared Arusei’s powers so much that he felt the need to blatantly separate his daughters; however, that very same power he feared brought him closer to the Emperor. Hence he kept himself bound to her, or perhaps, he kept her bound to him.

I wished to avoid such a circumstance, so I hid them; I thought intelligence was better than power, yet that very thought sealed my fate.

I should have lived like a corpse.

Gods, but if only I could regress to my early childhood.

‘Well, anyway…’

I pressed my face to the recognition crystal, and the room’s door unlatched.

The stench of blood grew viciously potent, harassing my nostrils into vivid repulsion.

I stepped into the poorly lit room to examine the extent of the damage.

The windows were left open and the curtains torn, yet still, their remaining lengths billowed with the bitter nights' wind.

I walked to the window and peered down.

A fall from this height would kill the untrained.

The door requires facial or card recognition, so the intruders must have used the window.

The room was ransacked, yet I remain convinced nothing of mine has been taken.

My shelves were toppled over, and all breakables in the room were broken. There was a picture of the Marquis by my desk. However, that too had not survived the invasion.

A low groan called me to my bed.

It was the maid, whatever her name was. Blood pooled from her mouth, and bruises dressed her frame.

No doubt an internal injury, but she was breathing.

My sheets were tousled, emphasising the struggle she endured.

Did Étienne mean to terrify me into a decision with such foolish pranks?

‘Thank the gods, Étienne, thank the gods for your childlike simplicity.’

After taking a deep breath, I let out a piercing scream!

I left the door open, so the soundproof technology lining the room nullifies.

Almost immediately, three female guards stormed into my room.

“H-Help m-me! P-please!!” my knees buckled, and I slid to the floor.

“What happened?” the first knight of the squad that entered my room asked.

“I-I ju- I jus…”

“Calm down, breathe,” the woman soothed.

“T-The pr-princesses party…I- was in-invited….c-ame ba-back.” I didn’t complete the poorly structured sentence; instead, I wailed even louder, then pointed to my bed. “M-maid! My-my maid!”

“A-and my-my dresses!!”

“Calm down,” the woman dressed in an excessive amount of badges said before turning her gaze to the knight with her hand on my shoulder, “ Lianna, get her out of here!”

“Understood.” The knight responded, then lifted me slowly from the ground as she tried her best to distract me with questions. “What is your name?”

“M-my name?”

“Yes, what is your name.”

“I- I am Ar-Arusei, D-daugter of the M-marquis of Central Norvig.”

“The Marquis? Then why are your rooms here?”

“I- I don’t k-now. B-but is the s-school, not su-supposed t-to pro-te-tect me?”

*

*

*

The next morning.

Dean Moses Grantworth.

“What the hell is this?” The dean asked as he furiously tossed the papers presented by the secretary of the knight's division in the academy.

“Sir, it is just as the report says, the daughter of the Marquis’s room-,”

“I mean, why was she stationed in the lower nobility section? The upper class are supposed to have their own knights!”

“Ah! Well, according to the investigation, the Princess-”

“The Princess?” The schools’ dean raked his aged white and dark brown hair, “Do you know, sir Lesser-,”

“It is Lester.”

“I am talking.” The Dean replied, “Do you know why the upper nobility get their own security?”

“I- I do-,”

“So mishaps like this are not tied to the school!!” the dean’s voice boomed over his companions’.

“From the investigation, she is apparently not accepted by the upper-,”

“Yet she was summoned to the imperial grounds just last week.” The Dean sighed, “This news can not get out. It must not reach anyone.”

“So, what will you do?”

“What do you mean? What else is there to do?” the dean growled.

*

*

*

Marquis Edward Lione Alpesa

“So,” the queen, with hair as white as snow, crossed her legs, “You mean to tell me that your solution is your other daughter?”

“No, no, your imperial highness, I merely seek more time.”

“Why then, did you tell me of your daughter's recovery? Did you wish for us to celebrate together? Do you think this a joyous occasion?’

“No, I-,”

“Save your breath, Marquis. You have entirely wasted my time and efforts.” The queen stood from her chair in the parlour room.

Her fluffy white coat found its place on her back as her knight gently passed a lit cigarette to her.

“I foresaw us as comrades, I saw a place for you, but you have sorrily disappointed me.” she said, “I will, at the very least, tell you this. If she does not accept Étienne’s proposal, you’d better make sure she lives as though she is dead. I will not hesitate to get rid of her…rather, everyone around her, if I hear any rumours of her with the Empress’s children. But yes, I am happy for you. Congratulations on Regina’s recovery.”

The queen turned towards the door.

“I know, more than anyone, in what manner your wifes’…accident…all but ruined you.” The sound of the door’s opening echoed in the parlour room, “I’d hate for a repeat with the only one left that bears Muriel's resemblance.”