I Woke Up as the Villainess's Friend. I Don’t Want to Be the Next Dark Queen

In the dining hall, it's indeed just the three of us.

"So, let me get this straight," I say to Mary after hearing her story in detail. And definitely confirming that I need to have a serious talk with Berta. "You have proof that Baronet Cedric is deeply involved in a child trafficking ring, which has kidnapped Bob's daughter, and you know the next sale is happening in two nights at a farm surrounding Tharion."

Tharion is the city governed by the baronet and it's about three hours by carriage from here.

"Correct," she nods while taking the last bite left on her fish plate.

She's a commoner and I'm from Earth. Neither of us fits in this dining hall full of refined young nobles. I think when we arrived, we both did the same thing: imitate and try not to let our humbler origins show.

Mary has nailed it over these months. Setting aside her warmth as a person, she could pass for Sol with the elegance and delicacy with which she holds her silverware or brings food to her mouth.

As for me, I still have to concentrate quite a bit not to clash with the count's daughter that Bianca is.

"So," I say after a few seconds of silence during which I got distracted admiring her table manners, "this is where you bring in the headmaster, the army, and Theodore's father, since Tharion is within his marquisate."

"Yes."

"And you want us to help you."

"I'd like to count on you."

"You don't even need to ask that, Mary," Ronan interjects, with an unusually gentle tone for him. "You're our friend and, on top of that, you're helping Bob and Joe."

The girl smiles at him and picks up her plate of grapes, moving on to dessert. I follow suit.

"Could you communicate with Tom to see if he's the blacksmith apprentice?"

"From the timeline you've given me, it's possible. Especially since Joe and Bob's deaths weren't as recent as Tom's death."

The timeline she gave him? I'm clearly missing something here, something they must have discussed beforehand.

"What do you mean?" I ask.

"When a body dies, the soul doesn't linger in this world for long. A few hours, or even less, is normal. Once the soul has left, it can no longer be retrieved."

I nod.

"However," Ronan continues, "sometimes they stay longer. When death has been violent or they harbor strong emotions, they cling to this world and refuse to leave. It can be feelings of hatred or love—the most extreme ones. Some feel the need to protect a loved one left defenseless by their death. More often, some cry out for vengeance for what was done to them in life. Joe and Bob, when I arrived at the academy and felt death calling me, had been dead for weeks."

"You can feel death?"

"I can sense where bones or corpses are. It's not a spell, more of a passive ability, inherent to a high affinity for darkness."

Right, that sounds familiar. I think he'd mentioned it before.

"The closer the moment of death, the stronger I feel it. It's as if something tells me that in a certain direction, there are bodies. If the souls are still there, the sensation is even stronger. The number of corpses, their origin, all vary the intensity. I could try to explain it as if it were a new sense, and just as smell perceives different scents, I can detect where death is or has been."

"And where will it be?"

"I am afraid, my lady, that is beyond my abilities. I do not think darkness magic can see the future."

Mary asks Ronan if he thinks Tom could be the blacksmith apprentice who was killed in Bob's hometown—the one they blamed for kidnapping and running away with the girl. While they discuss going to Ronan's room to find Tom, who's in the closet, and ask him, I finish my dessert, thinking about how fascinating necromancy sounds. The one type of magic I don't have.

I sigh.

I have to step in to clarify that we're not all going to Ronan's room—he's going alone while we wait in the library. I don't know why, but Mary blushes at this.

Over Ronan?

Isn't she supposed to like Prince Theodore, whom she's going to the ball with, and Alistair? Four guys? Oh my gosh, she'd get along great with Beatrice, my best friend from Earth.

Anyway...

Tom confirms that it was indeed Cedric, or his men, who killed him. We agree to accompany Mary to prevent the girls' handover and rescue them. I say goodbye. I need to continue training.

But when I reach my room, taking advantage of being alone, I decide it's a good time to call Berta.

Berta...

I don't think she's more than twenty-six or twenty-seven. She's supposedly been with me since I was little. Her skin is pale, without freckles or blemishes. Her hair is jet black and she usually wears it pulled back in a tight bun. She looks like the typical maid from a manga—black and white dress, white cap and all.

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What I know about her so far is that my parents probably asked her to make sure I behave appropriately for a marriageable young woman of my age, and possibly to spy on me for them. But that "spy on me" used to just mean "my parents asked her to tell them what I'm doing." Now, after what Mary explained, I don't trust her at all.

I need to clear this up. And why do I have these butterflies in my stomach? Does a maid scare me more than a yeti boss?

Oh, if only I had a skeletal dragon like Ronan to summon when things get ugly...

Then I hear knuckles rapping against the door.

"Come in, Berta," I say, assuming it's her.

"Did you send for me, miss?" she asks after opening the door and peering in.

Since Judith isn't here, I've taken the chair from her desk and placed it near mine, where I sit waiting.

"Yes, Berta. Close the door and come in. Have a seat."

"My lady, it doesn't seem proper for me to sit beside you."

"Berta, I think ever since I hit my head, there's been a conversation you want to have with me, and if that's not the case, then I certainly want to have one with you."

For what feels like a couple of endless seconds, she stares at me. Then she nods and does as I ask.

"As you wish, my lady."

"I spoke with Mary. She says you have espionage skills."

I watch as Berta's body language shifts subtly. She seems a bit less servile.

"May I ask why you're telling me this?"

"You want to know if I'm going to reproach you for telling her."

"Essentially, my lady."

Just like that? Did I guess right? Did the real Bianca know about this side of her maid?

Well, I don't want to keep pretending with her.

"I'm not going to lie to you. I don't remember almost anything from before the hit. It's more serious than I've let on. And I had no idea about your spy skills."

"May I speak frankly?" she asks as what seem like layers peel away from her maid persona.

So many layers that it's almost scary. Who is my maid, and what level is she?

"Of course."

Berta straightens in her chair. It's no longer subtle. It's like the cordial, hardworking maid has transformed into someone dangerous.

"You're not Bianca. What have you done with her?"

"I am Bianca."

"The body, yes, but not the soul. Bianca was a simple girl who just wanted to please her parents and friends. I was like a second mother to her. She had no affinity for light or any other magical affinities besides earth magic. She never would have gotten a legendary sword or attracted the attention of kings or a prince."

Oh, shit. I think she really was able to hear what was said during my audience with the king and queen. This Berta—straighter posture, with a completely sharp and alert gaze—gives me the feeling that at any moment she's going to pull out daggers and attack me.

"And she was like a daughter to you?" I say, trying not to let my adrenaline-fueled racing heart show.

"So you confess it."

"No, I don't confess that I'm not Bianca. I am Bianca. But I don't remember anything from before the hit. It's like I started over—a clean slate."

The curious thing is that I don't feel any kind of affection toward you. This body did love its family—I can feel it when I think about her parents or siblings. But you, Berta, don't awaken anything, I think.

Except fear and a sense of danger. Like I've wandered into a dragon's lair, one that doesn't serve Ronan.

"Are you suggesting that you have new magic because of your personality change?"

"Isn't that how it works? Or is there some spell that can make a demon possess a girl's body? And when I say demon, I could also mean some dead person or some old woman who wants to change bodies."

She stares at me and narrows her eyes. I really have to resist the urge to reach for a weapon or even wake up the shadow wolf. But I can't see any aura around her. Whatever she does, that intimidation she projects isn't related to magical affinities.

"A demon could, no one else. And I know how to distinguish demonic magic. You don't have it."

"Then the only logical explanation you have left is that I'm telling you the truth."

She nods.

"Alright, now tell me what you were doing in my parents' mansion. If I knew about your spy skills, what reason would the counts have had to hire you as my maid?"

She stares at me. Her gaze seems lost in the past and turns cold.

"The counts have no idea who they hired. I was sold as a child to be trained as a spy. I'm from the neighboring kingdom, Agascar. I was sent along with two other maids to spy on the royal house. However, I was already twelve when my parents sold me, and I refused to be a slave. I obeyed in everything, made them believe the indoctrination they were subjecting me to was working. But it was a lie. That mission to spy on the royal family was the perfect opportunity to escape. I did have to kill the other two spies, though. I did it while they slept. I had no choice and I had to fake my own death too so no one would look for me. After that, since the only things I know how to do, besides espionage and assassination, are the maid duties I'd been trained in as cover, I looked for work. Your parents hired me. They needed a personal maid for their little girl, who was growing up and had just turned seven. I didn't tell your parents, but I told you. We became friends."

Really? Because I repeat that I don't feel any affection for her. Either Bianca was faking it, or Berta is lying to me.

"Why become a maid? Why not pursue a better life?"

"I don't like killing or spying. Being a maid isn't so bad. You give me a day off now and then, and you were a calm, quiet child."

"Nothing like now, right?" I smile at her.

That sense of danger has already faded. Whatever test she put me through, I've passed it for now.

"Now you barely require my presence. My working conditions have improved."

"And the spying for my parents?"

"They asked me to make sure you behaved properly and didn't do anything that might break your current engagement. Though since you became an exceptional student, they don't rule out that you might land a better fiancé."

"And are you going to tell them what you heard at the royal audience?"

"Of course not. You have my word."

I'm not sure if Berta's word is worth anything, though she did help Mary when she didn't have to. Unless...

"Did you help Mary to see what I'd tell you after finding out?"

"Yes."

She answers seriously and calmly, sitting with her back straight and hands folded in her lap.

"Well, now you know what's what. That I don't remember, and it's going to be complicated for my parents not to notice."

"It's not like they'll care much if you get engaged to the prince."

I choke on the tea I'm drinking.

"Did you tell them that?"

"No, I haven't told them anything I heard during your audience with the king and queen. Not about the magic, not about Vincent."

"And?" I ask uneasily.

Because if she tells them, I'll be in trouble. The counts will definitely want to secure the wedding at all costs. And I don't want them meddling in my life like that. It's mine. I had enough of my real parents on Earth telling me what I should study to make a living. Here, I don't want anyone charting my path.

If I marry Vincent, it should be because he and I have decided that together.

"I'm not going to tell them that either. In any case, judging by how flustered you just got, I don't doubt that the king and queen will soon speak with them to arrange the engagement."

Is what I'm feeling that obvious?

"Well, thank you, Berta. I appreciate that."

"You're welcome. As I told you, we're friends," she says, and suddenly her composure changes and she's back to being the usual maid. "Do you need anything else, my lady?"

"No, thank you. You may go."

I watch her leave the room.

My God. Is what she's saying true? Can I trust her? Because the fact that this body doesn't feel affection or attachment makes me think we probably weren't friends.

Please—I even feel some connection to Caroline and Ashe...