Surviving As The Villainess's Attendant

"Let me do it, Julies."

He stiffened, eyes darting around the hall as if afraid someone might overhear. "No, Lady Frost. You can't."

"Why not?" Amelia's voice was soft, coaxing, yet there was a note of insistence beneath it. "I'm sure no one's looking."

His jaw tightened. "Because… it's wrong."

"It's not wrong," she countered, stepping just a little closer. "It'll be over in an instant."

Julies hesitated, his grip tightening on the object as though he were holding himself back from handing it over. "That's not the point."

Amelia tilted her head, her lips curving into a faint, almost teasing smile. "Then what is the point?"

He met her gaze for the briefest moment before looking away. "…The point is, you're not supposed to."

She let out a quiet breath, her eyes narrowing slightly as she studied him. "Julies, if I wanted to follow every rule, I wouldn't be here right now."

"…I still can't allow you to," he said, shaking his head. "It's against the rules. And… it's heavier than it looks."

"Heavy?" Amelia raised an eyebrow. "You told me yourself that Alice's armor has lightweight enchantments on it."

A perfectly polite smile settled on her lips — the kind that nobles painted on like fine powder.

Concealing emotions and wearing a mask were basic skills for a noblewoman, and Amelia had mastered them since childhood.

Today marked the fourth day she'd been visiting the Ducal house, all under the pretense of friendship — but in truth, she was here to get closer to Julies.

'Alice's armor… To think there'd come a day when I might carry it myself.'

"There's so much to do today," she said lightly. "Just hand it over to me."

Of course, her interest wasn't purely practical. There was something personal in her intent — this was the very armor that had once nullified all her magic.

The desire to touch it, to feel its weight in her own hands, swelled inside her.

Then—

"Moderate yourself," Alice's voice cut in, calm but firm. "That is a confidential item of our family. It's not something to be handled carelessly, and only Julies, as my servant, is permitted to take it from the safe."

The reprimand was unexpected.

Amelia covered her mouth with her fingertips, feigning embarrassment. "Oh… you're right, Alice. I was out of line."

"…Just be careful with your words and actions," Alice replied, her tone colder than usual.

'Tch… I let my composure slip.'

Amelia glanced at Alice's face — the slight furrow of her brow, the chin lifted just a little higher than normal, that faint edge in her voice.

'As expected… she already holds a great deal of affection for this servant.'

She had suspected it before — Alice's fondness for combat and loyal retainers was no secret — but now Amelia feared her concern was becoming reality.

The need to separate them had never felt more urgent.

'This… this must be his daily routine,' she thought bitterly, her gaze flicking to Julies.

Her fingers clenched at her skirts, wrinkling the fine fabric without her even noticing.

'Seeing Alice's sleepy face in the morning… taking care of the towels she sweated through after training…' Her lips pressed into a thin line. 'Surely he doesn't dry her hair, too?'

Truly outrageous.

Amelia kept her painted smile, though her thoughts were anything but pleasant.

'If things continue like this, she'll tie him even closer to her side… and I'll be left watching from the shadows.'

A plan began to form in the back of her mind — slow, deliberate, like frost creeping over glass.

'An engagement announcement… yes. If I move the timing forward, make it public enough, he won't be able to serve her with such familiarity.'

Her lashes lowered, hiding the glint in her eyes. She would need to plant the idea subtly — in a way that seemed entirely unrelated to Julies.

Meanwhile, Julies shifted uncomfortably under her gaze.

He wasn't oblivious. He could tell Amelia's visits had a purpose, and it wasn't the polite friendship she presented to Alice.

The way she lingered just a little too close when she spoke to him. The way her questions always circled back to his duties. The way she looked at Alice when she thought no one was watching.

Julies kept his expression neutral, but inside, a warning bell rang.

Alice, still standing beside them, remained unaware of the undercurrent. Her focus was on the armor and the preparations ahead, not on the subtle tug-of-war unfolding between her childhood friend and her servant.

Amelia, however, had no intention of backing down.

'A few words to the right people,' she thought, 'and the entire house will know of my "plans" for the future. Alice will have no choice but to keep her distance from him.'

It was a simple enough move. And if played well, she wouldn't even have to lie.

Julies met her eyes briefly, as if trying to read her intentions, but she merely offered that polite, noble smile again.

The kind that promised nothing — and hid everything.

But for now, she was going to observe him.

As far as Amelia could remember, Alice wasn't the kind of girl who let someone get close to her.

She was like the snow of the north… always cold.

Not the biting, howling chill of a blizzard — that would be too obvious. Alice's cold was quiet, still, and deep, like the snow that lay untouched in the far north, so pristine you hesitated to step on it.

And yet, Julies had somehow left footprints there.

Amelia's eyes followed him as he moved past Alice, carrying the armor with practiced ease, as if it were a natural extension of himself.

The faint smile that ghosted across Alice's lips when she looked at him — so small that most would miss it — made Amelia's stomach twist.

She remembered the girl from years ago, aloof and untouchable, who didn't bother to spare words for anyone outside her circle.

That same girl now gave a servant more of her attention than she had ever given Amelia.

'He's already crossed the frost line.'

It wasn't just the way Julies worked around Alice — it was the way Alice allowed it. She let him step into the quiet spaces between her words, into the gaps between her actions.

The places Amelia had never been allowed to reach.

Julies glanced back briefly, likely checking if Alice needed anything else. Amelia caught the look. It wasn't a servant's nervous watchfulness; it was steadier, almost… protective.

That small detail gnawed at her.

Amelia forced herself to sip her tea, the warmth doing little to thaw the irritation curling inside her. "Alice," she began lightly, "I've been thinking. Perhaps we should have a little gathering soon. Something formal, but intimate."

Alice raised an eyebrow. "For what purpose?"

"Oh, nothing too grand. Just… certain acquaintances of my father's have been pressing for introductions. It might be a good opportunity to invite the Ethan Baronial family."

Julies, still within earshot, paused for the briefest moment — but it was enough for Amelia to notice.

Alice's gaze sharpened slightly. "Again with the Ethan Evans family?"

"Just a thought," Amelia replied smoothly, setting her cup down with a delicate clink. "But sometimes… the right match changes everything."

Her smile didn't falter, even as she felt Julies' back stiffen.

'Yes… a match that moves you far, far away from here.'

She wasn't ready to lose Alice — but if keeping her meant removing Julies from her side, then so be it.