Surviving As The Villainess's Attendant

Julies hesitated for a moment, the handkerchief still in his grasp, before looking up at Amelia with a puzzled expression.

"Why would you—someone from the Count Leinge lineage—be engaged to someone like me?" he asked slowly, as if making sure he hadn't misunderstood.

Amelia's smile didn't waver. She turned her gaze back to him, her tone light but deliberate.

"The easiest way for a family to welcome talent," she replied.

Julies blinked, clearly caught off guard. His finger shot up, pointing at himself in disbelief. "Talent? Me?"

"Mm-hm." Amelia nodded without hesitation, as if the answer was obvious. "How can one not call the champion of the Northern Martial Arts Tournament talented?"

The words landed with quiet weight.

Julies's mouth opened slightly, but no immediate reply came. His eyes darted to the side, perhaps to avoid the intensity of her gaze. There was a faint flush creeping up the back of his neck, and for once, he seemed unsure what to do with his hands.

Alice, who had been staring resolutely out the window, felt her jaw tighten again.

The image of Julies standing victorious in that tournament—bloodied, bruised, but still grinning—flashed in her mind. She had never thought much of it at the time… but now, hearing Amelia speak of it so easily, so matter-of-fact, made something uncomfortable twist in her chest.

The steam from her tea swirled upward, and she brought the cup to her lips if only to hide her expression.

She still didn't like the taste.

Julies scratched the back of his neck, clearly flustered. "It's not a big deal, and besides, it's not like winning once makes me… worthy of something like that."

Amelia tilted her head, watching him as though she could see straight through his modesty. "It's not just about that match. You've proven yourself more than once since then. Loyalty. Resolve. A knack for surviving against all odds."

Her words were smooth, but her eyes held a sharper gleam.

Alice set her cup down a little too firmly, the porcelain clicking against the saucer. "You talk as though you've been watching him for years, but he only joined a few months ago," she said, her voice polite but edged.

"It doesn't matter. I pay attention to people worth paying attention to," Amelia replied lightly, turning back to her tea as if she hadn't just said something loaded.

Julies shifted uncomfortably, caught between them. "I'm… not sure how to respond to that," he admitted, glancing from one to the other.

Alice forced a faint smile. "Then don't."

Amelia looked at her over the rim of her cup, her expression all innocence—though her eyes betrayed the hint of a challenge.

The air in the room felt heavier, and even the quiet ticking of the clock seemed louder than it should.

Julies cleared his throat, as if trying to dispel the tension. "Regardless, I'm just doing my job. Nothing more."

"That's what makes you dangerous," Amelia murmured.

Alice's brows knit. "Dangerous?"

"Mm," Amelia said, leaning back in her chair. "The kind of person who doesn't realize how much influence they have until it's too late."

Julies gave a small, awkward laugh. "You're making me sound far more important than I am."

"Maybe you are," Amelia replied with a faint smile, her gaze lingering on him just a little too long before she finally looked away.

Alice felt the urge to interrupt—anything to steer the conversation elsewhere—but for some reason, her throat felt tight.

The tea had gone cold.

And for once, she wasn't sure if it was the bitterness of the drink or the company that left such a sharp taste in her mouth.

Julies rubbed his palms together, the handkerchief still awkwardly balled up between them. "Well… I think you're overestimating me, Lady Frost. I'm not exactly the kind of man noble families write songs about."

"That's the point," Amelia replied without missing a beat. "Songs fade. Practical worth lasts."

He blinked at her, unsure if that was a compliment or some strange backhanded truth. "I… guess I'll take that as praise?"

"Take it however you like." She sipped her tea, her eyes never leaving his face.

Alice's fingers drummed once against the table before she forced them still. "Practical worth or not, Julies, isn't an ornament to be placed somewhere convenient. He has his own choices to make."

Amelia tilted her head slightly, her smile never faltering. "Of course. I'm only speaking hypothetically. Engagements aren't final until both parties agree… and until the paperwork is signed."

Julies let out a breath, half relieved, half wary. "Right… paperwork. My favorite part of romance."

The corner of Amelia's lips twitched, but she didn't laugh. "You joke, but alliances are rarely about love. It's about trust. Stability. Mutual benefit."

"That's… one way to kill a mood," Julies said, scratching his cheek.

"It's the truth," Amelia replied softly, almost like she was speaking to herself.

Alice caught that subtle shift in tone—just enough to make her wonder if there was more behind Amelia's words. She leaned back in her chair, studying her. "And what would your 'mutual benefit' be in this hypothetical?"

Amelia's eyes flicked to hers, calm and steady. "A loyal shield who doesn't realize how great he is."

Julies blinked. "Wait—shield? Am I a shield—"

Amelia only smiled at him, offering no explanation.

Alice's stomach tightened. The steam from the teapot had thinned to nothing, and the air between them was growing colder by the second.

Julies cleared his throat again, his voice lighter this time, as though desperate to cut the weight in the room. "Well… if this is all hypothetical, I think I'll stick to my current job. Less paperwork, more running away from trouble."

Amelia's gaze softened just a fraction. "Trouble tends to follow people like you, Julies. You might as well choose the trouble worth following."

Alice's jaw flexed, but she said nothing.

The tea in her cup was gone, but she held it anyway—because somehow, letting go felt like losing ground.