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

Did I want to meditate in my room? Not going to happen. Judith is there and, for how quiet she normally is, she's unusually agitated. Nervous about the ball, I assume. She doesn't say anything, but she keeps fidgeting in her seat, going to the wardrobe to look at her dress, sitting back down, going to the adjoining bathroom, coming back...

Even though I'd arranged to meet Berta later to help me get ready for the evening, I send for her now. I want to go to the gym, where I doubt anyone will be at this hour today.

I try to take the pup with me in a pocket of my school uniform jacket, like always, but he doesn't let me. He's been really weird since I got up this morning. At first, he didn't want to come with me to breakfast—he kept his head down and whimpered, like something was wrong. I picked him up, checked that he was okay, and finally convinced him to come. Then when I went to Solstar, I noticed he was still acting strange when I put him in my purse. When I got back to my room, he went straight from the purse to under the bed, and now I'm having trouble getting him to come out.

"Don't you want to come to the gym with me and Berta?" I ask him, even though I know he can't answer. Even if he understands me, I can't work out some kind of barking code with him.

I get more whimpers in response. He doesn't even poke his head out.

"Poor thing, maybe he's sick. Leave him here with me. I'm not leaving the room," Judith tells me.

The girl doesn't usually start conversations, so I'm surprised to hear her speak up. She must be completely fooled by the adorable puppy facade, unlike me.

"He doesn't seem to want to come out from under the bed."

"That's fine, I'll watch him. If he throws up or anything, I'll let you know."

"Thanks so much, Judith."

Though, really, the seed of darkness doesn't need my roommate taking care of him. He's more like my trump card against unexpected danger. Still, I don't mind leaving him here. I can defend myself, and besides, I'll be with Berta the mysterious spy. If I want even more security, I've got the bodyguard who never leaves my side at the academy.

If necessary, I'll let the seed rest during the banquet and the ball. Tomorrow, if he's still like this, I'll ask Ronan if it makes sense to take him to the infirmary. Maybe he just doesn't like balls or there are too many people at the academy. Or he wants to stay hidden for some reason. Since he has to protect me, if I were really in danger he'd come with me, so I'm not giving it more thought.

As for Berta, as soon as she arrives, we head to the gym where I ask her to remind me how to dance.

She stares at me with an unreadable expression for a few seconds, then answers.

"I understand you believe you've forgotten, but the body always remembers these things. I'll play the gentleman's role. A pity we don't have music here."

If it's ever crossed her mind that I'm some kind of copy or long-lost twin of Bianca, the fact that I remember how to dance should put that idea to rest.

"Couldn't we do it with air magic?" I venture.

Because I still think a spy should have air magic.

"Do you know how to do it?"

"No. And you...?"

Is it obvious I'm trying to figure this out? I never sense any magic from her, but that doesn't mean anything. Since I have affinity for almost all elements, I can see when someone uses magic.

At first, mainly because of the darkness surrounding Ronan, I thought that was normal—having a magical aura that was more or less intense depending on your elemental affinity. (Which, by the way, since his affinity is high and mine is opposite, makes it easy for me to see.)

Later, in class, they explained that what you can perceive is mana that's being used, meaning if I always see Ronan's mana, it's because the guy is using it constantly. Honestly, I haven't asked him if he's constantly casting spells or if having skeletons and zombies raised just makes it that way. Knowing him, I don't think I want to know what he might answer.

So, in theory, I see a more or less faint aura where the mage concentrates mana before casting a spell. They can't imbue objects with magic because that requires spirit magic. That's why this world doesn't have more magical objects than those they get from dungeons or those that craftsmen with very high mastery levels make by removing magic from one object and putting it into another. I imagine one of those few would be the royal blacksmith, the one who can make the armor for the pup.

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So, not sensing any magic in Berta, not seeing any colored aura, doesn't mean she doesn't have it—just that she's not using it.

They also said in class that air magic allows you to hide those effects, so she could also have that spell at a high level.

"Miss, I don't have air magic," she answers in a tone that suggests she's stating something obvious.

"But isn't it ideal for a...?"

"Miss," she interrupts while giving me a warning look, "accept that we don't have music."

If she had air magic, she would have isolated us from possible eavesdroppers. If not, nothing would have happened because I stopped myself, remembering that she's a spy and it's her secret to keep.

"Fine. Guide me, Berta."

Somehow, a strange tension that seemed to have built up in the room relaxes a bit.

Is that because of Berta's strong personality or because she does have air magic?

Anyway, I focus.

"The opening dance is always a laltz," she's explaining. "The music is three-four time and the basic step is one foot to the side—right foot for the lady—and two more steps for a turn, which for the lady is to the right, so she turns backward. Usually you start doing it slower, taking two beats for each step. There are variations, but I prefer to show them to you first. Miss." She extends her left hand while bowing to me.

I extend my right arm and she holds my fingers, pulling me until I'm close to her; then she holds my waist with her other arm and indicates that I should delicately place my free hand on her shoulder. And we begin.

Berta hums. We do the basic step slowly and I have to say the body memory thing is real, because it feels comfortable and familiar. My maid picks up the pace and I follow without missing a step except a little at first. After a few minutes, she pushes with the hand on my waist while pulling the hand holding mine to indicate where to go. I follow without problems and start doing several turns and spins. Don't ask me to repeat them or lead, but I can follow them. I don't stumble once, though I don't know if this is because of body memory or my agility of 9.

This isn't like practicing sword katas, but both activities are somewhat similar. I like feeling that my movements are fluid. Not as precise as when I'm in Catrina's Wednesday class, but at least fluid.

"You did very well, Miss," she tells me once we've stopped, ending the practice. Luckily, no student came to use the gym, but if they had, it wouldn't matter—I imagine it's normal for the future ball queen to want to practice a bit before the occasion. "Your mother will be proud to see you dance as expected of you."

"Proud? Are you serious, Berta?"

"Pleased. If it helps, I will be proud."

I imagine that was all the acceptance and praise the original Bianca would have expected. For me, feeling no emotional connection to Berta, I have no need for her approval. Curiously, I can feel some of the pain this body remembers from her mother's rejections, but as I've noted, nothing for Berta.

I don't know if she really was like a mother to her or if Bianca was pretending. Or Berta lied to me and never was. In the first case, there would have to be something blocking this body's memory.

In any case, I answer as I, Elisa, would. This maid is treating me very well and being honest with her is the least I can do.

"Yes, it helps. Thank you very much, Berta."

Her genuine smile makes me feel it was the right answer. I, the new Bianca, want her to be my ally, and if this fabulous and dangerous maid-spy is also a maternal figure, then welcome aboard.

Once back in the dormitory, she helps me get ready. Judith's maid is also there, making the space a bit crowded.

Between bathing, hair styling, and makeup, a lot of time passes. It's a bit boring. Then, when Berta helps me put on the dress, everything changes.

It's so beautiful!

And that dark red tone still seems simply sublime to me.

When she's placed the last earring, she steps back smiling and gestures toward the full-length mirror we have in the dormitory.

What can I say that won't sound completely conceited? But it's not me—not in my body as Elisa. Maybe that's why, instead of finding flaws like I would on Earth, here I simply admit that Bianca is truly beautiful. That right now, I, in this body, am. I am beautiful.

The dress hugs my figure, highlighting it with the strapless neckline and the fitted waist that's a product of the corset. My shoulders and the upper part of my chest stand out against the black lace that trims the band cinching the top of the garment.

Dark red, like the petals of a blood rose at midnight.

It's so beautiful...

The silk layers of the skirt fall gracefully. I try turning my hips a little. The fabric seems to float, suspended briefly in the air.

It's going to look amazing when I dance.

I don't know if Marco is the type who notices something as superficial as physical appearance—I'd certainly look for more important things in a life partner—but if he is, I feel sorry for him because the breakup is going to hurt more.

For me, however, I like looking beautiful because I plan to dance at least one dance with my prince. I'm wearing enough rouge (or whatever equivalent Berta put on me) on my cheeks so it won't show if I blush a little thinking about it. It's not about being in his arms—I've already done that—but the fact that everyone will see us, and that, I don't know why, brings out a more vulnerable part of me.

Bianca, cut it out, I tell myself, because I'm not about to start obsessing over whether I'm seeking acceptance from my new friends or my parents.

I smile, still looking at myself.

"You look gorgeous, Miss," I hear Berta say.

"Absolutely," says Judith, whose hair her maid is just finishing. She's not wearing her dress yet.

She looks very pretty with makeup too.

"I can't wait to see you. I'm sure more than one fellow will want to ask you to dance."

Judith does blush despite the rouge, the color rising up the rest of her face. She's as shy as in the otome game.

Then it occurs to me: What if I introduce her to Marco?

It would be perfect: she'd have someone to accompany her and he wouldn't be so abandoned.

I won't say anything, I'll do it casually at the ball.

Yeah, sometimes I have really good ideas.