Surviving As The Villainess's Attendant

A few more days passed since then.

By now, Amelia should have been out of the Draken Duchy. That was the normal course of things — nobles of her rank rarely lingered without a clear purpose.

A polite visit, a few tea gatherings, perhaps a formal dinner with the host family… and then they would depart, leaving behind carefully wrapped gifts and equally wrapped words.

But Amelia Frost didn't leave.

Any other noble might have made their excuses by now, citing urgent letters from home or duties in their own territory. She, however, seemed perfectly at ease in the Duchy, as though the halls and gardens were her own.

She had come here with a purpose in mind… and she hadn't achieved it yet.

Which meant she couldn't leave.

Not until she drove Julies Evans out of this place for good.

But that didn't mean everything was going according to plan. Far from it.

The longer her stay dragged on, the heavier the frustration sat in her chest. And at the heart of it all… was Julies Evans himself.

At first, she'd approached him with subtle persuasion, soft smiles, and carefully chosen words.

"Haven't we spent enough time together by now?" she'd asked one afternoon, her tone almost playful. "How about making a decision?"

He'd only smiled in return — that maddening, lazy grin — and offered the same line he always did.

"Haha. Of course not. Just wait a little longer. I'll try to convince the Duke."

The days ticked by.

Her patience thinned.

One evening, her composure finally cracked.

"Do you dislike me?" she demanded, voice trembling with both irritation and something dangerously close to desperation.

"Give me a clear answer! If it's unrequited love, I'd rather give up quickly."

Again, the same response — warm, infuriating, and empty.

"Of course not."

Her hands curled into fists at her sides.

And so she tried her last weapon. Tears.

"Am I not good enough for you?" Her voice was soft now, the question trembling between them.

But Julies didn't flinch, didn't soften, didn't take the bait. That infuriating grin stayed in place.

"Just wait a little longer," he said again, as if the words were carved into his tongue.

Her composure shattered. "How much longer do I have to wait?"

Julies didn't answer her right away.

Instead, he leaned back in his chair, watching her with the same infuriating ease he'd worn since the first day she met him. It was the kind of gaze that didn't just measure you — it weighed you, as if deciding exactly where you fit in a puzzle only he could see.

And that made Amelia's skin prickle.

"I'll tell you when the time is right," he finally said, voice low, almost teasing. "You're not the type to settle for half-thing, Lady Frost. So I'll give you the whole thing… when I can."

Her nails bit into her palms. When I can. What was that supposed to mean? When he could? Not when she allowed it? Not when she was ready?

Her pride screamed at her to walk out. To never speak to him again. To send her father a letter saying the engagement was off and that she would not — could not — waste another breath on this man.

But she didn't move.

Because underneath the heat of her anger was something far more dangerous — fear.

Fear that if she turned away now, he would simply drift back to Alice's side. And if that happened… she might lose Alice for good.

"You're playing with fire, Julies Evans," she said at last, her voice cold and steady.

He smiled again — that same lazy, knowing smile. "I've always liked the warmth."

Amelia turned on her heel before she said something she couldn't take back. The door closed behind her with a sharp click, but her pulse still pounded like she'd been running.

Fine. If he wouldn't give her an answer, she would make one for him.

And the next move would be hers — whether Julies was ready or not.

-----

The next day… Early morning, 3 a.m.

Amelia had barely slept.

Her mind had been circling the same thoughts for hours, tightening like a noose until lying in bed became unbearable. So now, wrapped in a light fur shawl, she wandered the Winter Garden.

The air was sharp and cold, each breath spilling out in little clouds. Frost clung to the petals of the snow lilies, their pale blooms glowing faintly under the moonlight.

It was the same garden where the northern noble heirs had gathered for tea almost two months ago.

The same place where Alice had humiliated Gareth Valstein.

Amelia's lips curved faintly at the memory.

That was interesting to watch.

Normally, Alice wouldn't bother with petty spats. But that day, she had crushed Gareth's arrogance with the ease of snapping a twig. No, easier than that — it had been like swatting away a fly.

…And it really had been child's play for her.

Now that Amelia thought about it, that was around the time Alice's demeanor had started to change.

Bolder. Sharper.

And it was also when he appeared — Julies Evans.

Her jaw tightened.

"Damn it…" she muttered under her breath.

Just thinking about him made her chest knot. That outsider, a mere baron's son, walking so casually at Alice's side… speaking to her in ways Amelia never could. And worse — Alice letting him.

There was a time when Amelia had been the only one who stood so close. The only one Alice truly relied on. Now, she could feel that space shrinking, piece by piece, stolen away by him.

And if she didn't act soon…

Her gloved hand clenched over her shawl.

No. She wouldn't let that happen.

Not to her Alice.

A few minutes later, Amelia decided it was time to return to her guest quarters. The night air in the corridor was still and heavy, broken only by the faint creak of her slippers on the polished floor.

But halfway there, she stopped.

"…What?"

Just ahead, in the dim light spilling from a lone wall lamp, she caught sight of someone moving with deliberate slowness. A tall figure, head slightly lowered, a small satchel slung over one shoulder.

Her eyes narrowed.

"Where in the hell are you going?" she muttered under her breath.

It was unmistakable — Julies Evans.

At this hour, most of the household was fast asleep. Even the guards rotated to lighter patrols during these deep hours of the night. But here he was, not only awake, but packing light luggage and slipping toward the outer corridor.

A servant leaving in the dead of night without informing anyone? And not just any servant — Alice's personal attendant.

The one who was supposed to remain by her side at all times.

Suspicious didn't even begin to cover it.

Yet, instead of anger, Amelia felt the corner of her lips curl upward into a slow, calculating smile.

How interesting.

If she followed him, she might uncover something useful — a weakness, a hidden affair, some dark little secret.

Something she could present to Alice to show that this man was unworthy, dangerous even.

And if she found nothing? Well… even the image of him sneaking away like a thief in the night was damning enough to twist into something.

Words could be sharp if whispered to the right ears.

Her fingers tightened on the silk hem of her night robe as she stepped lightly into the shadows, keeping just far enough behind him to avoid notice.

Tonight might prove more entertaining than she'd expected.