Surviving As The Villainess's Attendant

After safely seeing Master off, a few days slipped by.

I returned to the rhythm of daily life as a servant.

The Duke's house never lacked for work—it was abundant, demanding, sometimes grueling. And yet, humans are adaptable creatures. After a few months, the endless chores became almost second nature, the rhythm of it settling into my bones.

"Good work today."

"Yes, Lady Alice, you've worked hard as well."

Etiquette, dance, rhetoric, politics, swordsmanship… her schedule was far more punishing than mine. While I busied myself with the behind-the-scenes tasks, Alice endured lesson after lesson, each one designed to refine her into the perfect noblewoman.

"Miss, that's not right. Lift the hem of the dress only enough to be held at the fingertips—about three inches. Just enough to show the tip of the shoe."

The instructors were famous for their fields, proud of their reputations, and merciless in their standards. Their corrections snapped through the air like whips. After all, Alice wasn't just any noble lady—she was the future Crown Princess, the woman destined to become Empress.

Naturally, the pressure surrounding every lesson was suffocating.

For me? No thank you. The endless rote learning I'd endured in my previous life was more than enough. Watching from the sidelines was one thing; experiencing it firsthand would have broken me.

That afternoon, as Alice finished her schedule and made her way toward the library, she glanced over her shoulder and gestured to me.

"Go and rest. It's going to get busy soon."

"Busy?" I tilted my head.

She smirked, lips curling with faint amusement. "Ah, that's right. You only came here this year. You wouldn't know."

I found myself staring blankly at her expression. There was something disarming about the way her mouth curved upward, the faint playfulness in her eyes. Whatever she found amusing, it was unfairly harmful to my heart.

"…Hey? Are you listening?"

I blinked, snapping back to attention. "Y-Yes, my lady!"

Her smirk deepened. "My birthday is on the last day of this month."

My heart sank.

"…Excuse me?"

"Not knowing your master's birthday—what an unfaithful servant."

It wasn't a jest. Her tone was light, but her words carried weight.

Of course I didn't know. In the game, birthdays for the main characters were often tied to events and side stories, but nothing had ever been mentioned about the villainess's.

But that excuse didn't matter here.

"I-I'm sorry!" I blurted, bowing so deeply I nearly smashed my forehead against the floor.

She laughed softly, clearly enjoying my panic.

As a servant, not knowing the birthday of your master was indeed shameful—an insult, even. And to have her point it out herself…

I could feel my ears burning.

It wasn't just about the game anymore. It was common sense. I should have known.

Alice tilted her head, her pale hair brushing lightly against her cheek as her smile grew sly.

"You look like you've just been sentenced to execution," she said, eyes gleaming with mischief. "Is my birthday really so terrifying?"

"…It's not that, my lady," I stammered, straightening awkwardly. "I simply… I should have known. A servant forgetting his master's birthday is…"

"Shameful? Disgraceful? Unforgivable?" She leaned forward slightly, counting each word on her fingers as though reciting my crimes. "Shall I add 'unpardonable' to the list?"

I swallowed hard. "Please, my lady, that won't be necessary."

She laughed then—a quiet, melodious sound, though it carried the sting of mockery.

"Really, you're far too easy to toy with. Look at you—face red, voice trembling. One would think I caught you stealing from the treasury."

I wanted to protest, but her gaze pinned me in place. There was no malice in her expression—just the deliberate enjoyment of watching me squirm.

Then she leaned back, her smile softening only slightly.

"Well… I suppose I can be magnanimous."

"…Magnanimous?" I repeated cautiously.

"Yes. I'll forgive your ignorance this once. So be grateful."

I let out a shaky breath I hadn't realized I was holding. "Th-thank you, my lady."

Her eyes glimmered with something sharp—like a cat swiping at a cornered mouse, amused not by hunger but by the reaction.

But there was also hint of sadness, only for a moment.

"Anyway, my birthday is coming up, so both you and I will be busier. We won't have much time for sparring for a while."

"Miss, you should also cheer up. After your birthday, when the noise dies down, why not spend a little more time in the training hall? You could use the excuse that you've been neglecting martial training."

I tried to sound casual, but a trace of disappointment slipped into my voice.

Raising my head slightly, I added, "Both exercise and swordsmanship are quick to dull if left unattended. If you say you're resuming practice to make up for lost time, no one will be able to argue with that. Not even the nosiest of nobles."

Alice's eyes curved, a faint sparkle of amusement dancing within them.

"Always scheming, aren't you?" she said softly. "That's actually… a clever idea."

"Scheming? Now that's a bit harsh," I replied with mock indignation. "I prefer to call it… a justifiable excuse."

Her lips quirked upward at my wording, and for a brief moment, the suffocating weight of etiquette and expectation around her seemed to lift.

"Justifiable excuse, hm?" she murmured, almost to herself. "You do have a way with words."

For once, there was no teasing edge in her tone—just a quiet acknowledgment that left me unexpectedly flustered.

Alice's gaze lingered on me for a moment longer than usual, as if weighing something behind those pale eyes.

"You're right, though. If I stop training entirely, I'll become rusty. I can't afford that. Not when certain people are still walking free."

Her words carried an edge sharper than her rapier, though she smiled as if discussing the weather. I knew exactly who she meant—but I also knew better than to speak the name aloud.

"Then it's settled," I said instead. "Once your birthday is over, we'll resume sparring. Properly this time."

Her lips curved, though the smile didn't quite reach her eyes. "Properly, hm? Are you saying I wasn't serious before?"

I froze. "No, no, of course not—!"

She laughed then, soft but merciless. "Relax, I'm only teasing. You're far too easy to unsettle. It makes it irresistible."

Heat crawled up my neck again, and I quickly looked away. "If making your servant flustered is your idea of entertainment, my lady, then I fear for the future court."

"On the contrary." Her voice lowered just slightly, the playfulness tempered with something deeper. "If I can keep a servant so loyal—and so earnest—then perhaps I'll manage just fine."

That… caught me off guard. For once, I had no witty retort. My mouth opened, but no words came out.

Alice tilted her head, watching my silence with satisfaction before she rose gracefully, her gown swaying like water in motion.

"Anyway, rest while you can. The coming days will be chaos. Guests from half the Empire will be arriving."

"…And you?" I asked before I could stop myself. "Will you… enjoy it?"

She paused mid-step, her back to me. For a moment, I thought she wouldn't answer. But then her voice drifted back, softer than I'd ever heard it.

"Enjoy? Hm. That depends on who bothers to remember it's my birthday… and not just another stage for politics."

The words lingered in the air as she left, her figure disappearing down the hall.

I remained rooted in place, her tone echoing in my ears. There had been no jest in her voice that time.

And though I knew my role was only that of a servant, a strange determination stirred within me.

If the whole world forgot the meaning of her birthday… then at the very least, I wouldn't.

-----

As per Alice's orders, I was on my way to rest in my room when I noticed Verren, the snow lion pup, padding after me with his fluffy tail swishing.

He gave me a look that was impossible to ignore—half pitiful, half expectant.

"…It's your mealtime anyway, isn't it?" I sighed.

Since it was about the right time, I decided to feed him first.

They say animals grow quickly to survive in the wild.

This guy was no exception.

The tiny ball of fur I'd first seen, no bigger than my forearm, was gone. Verren had eaten like a starved beast since the day he was brought here, and now he was already the size of a medium dog.

—Grrr…

He pawed at the floor, sharp eyes glinting, his low growl more impatient than threatening. For all that growth, he still managed to look almost too cute when waiting for food.

"…Tch. You'll eat your fill and run straight back to your master's room, won't you? Ungrateful little beast."

He probably didn't understand me, but somehow I felt like he knew exactly what I was saying. Verren was clever enough to distinguish between the one who filled his belly and the one he truly served. And his loyalty wasn't mine to claim.

"Here. Eat."

I set down the raw meat I'd snuck out from the kitchen earlier, placing it in a wide bowl. The pup immediately buried his muzzle into it, tearing away with frightening vigor for something that still looked so fluffy.

While he devoured his share, I sat on the edge of the bed and pulled out my own "meal."

A thin white root, its surface faintly frosted, as though it held the chill of the tundra itself.

The Frostroot.

At first glance, it looked no different from ginseng or any other herb you'd dig up in the mountains. But I knew better—this was the best find I'd brought back from the expedition. A treasure in the form of medicine.

Unlike Verren, who chewed noisily with blood staining his fur, I carefully examined the Frostroot between my fingers.

It didn't look like much, but I had a feeling. This little thing could change more than I realized.