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

Once in my room, I see Judith isn't here. She must have gone down for breakfast. As I quickly wash up and get dressed for the dungeon, I communicate mentally with Ronan.

Hello, I'll be there in a few minutes. Sorry for the delay.

Do not worry, my lady. May I ask what the investigator wanted?

Since he had him confined, I imagine Ronan doesn't think too highly of him.

Apparently, my bodyguard was bought off by the crown prince and listened in on me telling Mary about the elements.

I understand. Due to my upbringing, I do not know much about the kingdom's politics, but from the little I have heard Darius and Alistair say, Vincent does not get along very well with his brother. If you need an undead or a curse to defend yourself, tell me. I do not think your fiancé would mind.

The fiancé thing isn't official yet.

Hearing him call him that makes my cheeks burn. Really, Bianca? Maybe it's this younger body's hormones, because the novelty should have worn off for me by now, especially since we've already kissed.

Oh… bad idea thinking about the kiss. Now my body temperature really goes up.

Fortunately, good old Ronan pulls me out of inappropriate thoughts about the shirtless prince with his arms around me.

Do not worry, my lady, I will not call him that out loud until it is official.

Well, thanks for offering to help, but I don't think it'll be necessary. I don't see how the crown prince not getting along with his brother and knowing about my elements is going to affect me. It's not a secret from his parents.

It seems like Ronan starts to say something, but I cut him off when I realize something.

By the way, just like neither the king and queen nor anyone else know about the divine beast, Mary doesn't either. I haven't told her anything about the contract with the pup.

Do not worry, my lady, I already figured that out when you mentioned you had told her about the elements. Only the elements. In fact, I would not advise telling her about the beast, given that it serves a god so opposed to the one she should serve.

I don't know if there are any other acolytes in this world, but I don't think Mary is one: she would have told me. So yes, I don't like keeping secrets from her, but the ones about who you serve and about my contract have to stay that way.

Who I serve? Would that not be "we serve," my lady? And I rather consider him a friend. In fact, the only one I have had for many years.

I was brushing my hair—myself, because I refuse to let Berta come do it—and I feel such rejection when I hear this that I hit my ear with the brush.

It hurts.

Hey, I don't serve any god.

And I know I'm thinking, but I'm literally biting my lip to keep from finishing the sentence with "And especially not that dark one of yours."

And yes, the feeling was very strong, and it was rejection.

Because I don't want to see myself bound to the will of any higher being, especially not an evil one. I've always considered myself a good person. A bit scatterbrained and sometimes causing trouble, sure, but always without malice.

I apologize if I have made you uncomfortable, my lady. You are right. For now, you are merely the future Dark Lord, and you graciously care for the seed of darkness.

This book's true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.

Okay, I'm grabbing my things and heading over. See you in a few minutes.

Somehow, even though this is a mental connection, I've noticed I can choose to end it. It's almost like hanging up a phone call. If Ronan wants to keep talking to me, he has to start a new connection. So he got my clear desire for a bit of silence and mental peace.

I start checking that I have everything in my backpack, evil seed included.

And he's right: I am caring for him, protecting him, and helping him level up. But I don't feel like I'm doing anything wrong.

Besides, I can always break the contract or use that ring of resistance the insanity-difficulty dungeon gave me.

I take it out and examine it. I haven't done this in a long time, maybe something has changed:

Ring of Resistance. Legendary item. Offers the possibility to resist an unwanted destiny.

Ability 1. Locked.

Ability 2. Locked.

Ability 3. Locked.

The user does not possess sufficient level or power to unlock them.

Okay, so not yet. But I'm sure at some point I'll be able to use it.

End of topic, because the pup has only been kind to me and I did well to save him. A good person doesn't let wolves murder a poor little puppy.

When I reach the door to the portal room, Ronan and Mary are there waiting for me.

"Sorry for the delay. Have you been waiting long?" I apologize.

"Not at all, just a few minutes." Mary smiles at me. "Everything okay with Duskmere?"

"Yes, he's investigating you-know-what."

Obviously I can't tell her here about the bodyguard overhearing our conversation in the park. I'll tell her later in the dungeon.

"Any suspects?"

"The neighboring kingdom of Daertyle. I'll fill you in later."

She nods and we enter the portal chamber. The usual employee greets us. We access the teleporter and begin the journey. My spy bodyguard stays behind, stationed in the corridor at the door to the portal room at the academy.

Better.

I breathe easier—one fewer pair of prying ears. Though I shouldn't let my guard down.

Berta.

Berta had been trained harshly as an elite spy. She had her methods. Despite the precautions the rector had taken, she had found out about his conversation with Duskmere.

So the crown prince was spying on his younger brother?

It was something that made sense and fit perfectly with her intel on him. Sigfrig Draycott was an egomaniac with paranoid tendencies who believed that both some of the noble factions (in which he was right) and his brothers (where he was wrong) coveted his throne.

The monarchs, despite their governing duties, had done a good job with their children's education, but with Sigfrig—maybe because he was the eldest or because his wet nurse and tutor spoiled him too much—things didn't turn out quite right.

Berta walked through the academy corridors while mulling over what Sigfrig now knew. She remembered Bianca all lovey-dovey with Vincent in the gardens. She wasn't going to warn her. Ever since she had hit her head, she'd been even more scatterbrained than usual, doing very strange things. Before the accident, she would have been delighted with this information, but now… now she'd be capable of causing trouble and embarrassing her parents, the counts.

It would be much more sensible to talk to Vincent.

Discreetly, she checked if he was at the academy that day. She didn't even have to approach his valet; a couple of maids were eager to tell her that the handsome prince had left with his group the day before to do one of the trials using the teleporter and hadn't returned yet.

She would have to wait and talk to him when he got back.

In any case, there was something else that troubled Berta.

On the same day someone had tried to murder her lady—though she only found out about the assassination attempt later—someone had disturbed the contents of Bianca's wardrobe.

When Bianca left her room to go to class or, as had been the case these past two weeks, to attempt the trials, Berta liked to go in and make sure everything was clean and in its place. The truth was that Bianca, since her personality change, not only didn't want help getting dressed and having her hair done, but she also tidied up after herself. Well, "tidied up" was putting it generously, since she might just stuff things any old way into the wardrobe; but it was progress compared to not even trying.

That day, she went back in to put away her lady's clean, dry clothes and noticed that the inside of the wardrobe wasn't as she had left it. It looked like it was, but trained eyes like hers could tell that someone had searched through it. Nothing was missing.

The only thing that remained exactly as its owner had left it was the legendary sword, the one you couldn't touch because your fingers passed right through it.

Obviously, it hadn't been Judith, because she wouldn't have bothered trying to hide it so meticulously.

She filed the information away in her memory and promised herself to keep a closer eye on her lady's room. When she found out about the assassination attempt, she put two and two together and set up a magical alarm on the door. It would alert her whenever someone opened it, giving her a few seconds to listen and determine who was entering, and if it was a thief or spy, she could act accordingly.