The Dark Lady's Guide to Villainy [Book 1 Complete] [Dark Lord, School, Romance]

Mo held up the parchment—the Covenant strongly implied that more than three trillion souls had just become her responsibility. "We'd barely started reading when you arrived."

"We don't mean any offense, esteemed dragoness!" Valerius shot up from his chair and bowed to the floor.

Mo's succubus energy flickered at her fingertips—just enough to make her opinion of his intervention visible. "I don't need anyone translating my tone for…"

"Finally!" Cordelia's delighted interruption made everyone freeze. "Someone who doesn't immediately grovel. Do you know how boring it gets when everyone's either terrified or trying to curry favor?"

She fixed Mo with that predatory smile, letting the silence stretch until it became obvious that she was the only one in the room still breathing normally. Lucian's frost had stopped spreading. Nyx had gone perfectly still. Valerius seemed to have forgotten how to blink.

"So," Cordelia continued, examining her nails, "you haven't finished reading it. Want to continue? I don't mind waiting. I know what it says anyway; I helped edit out the really insulting parts. You should've seen draft number twelve. Great-grandmother wanted to open with a detailed recipe for succubus flambé."

Mo looked down at the letter, then back at the dragoness who'd just casually mentioned recipes involving demonic ingredients. "You... edited it?"

"Oh yes. The original version included helpful diagrams about which parts of your friends would be most nutritious. Very old-fashioned. I thought that might impede negotiations." Cordelia tilted her head, studying their horrified expressions with academic interest. "Was I wrong? Some cultures consider that sort of thing flattering."

"Charming," Nyx muttered.

"Alright, if everybody's ready, let's continue," said Mo, focusing on the letter again.

We write to you now because the magical disruption initiated by the human Julian Fennar has inconvenienced us. Our servant populations—those who maintain the boundaries between dimensions, and even those locked in our domains—have begun manifesting abilities that complicate our operations. Where once they performed their functions with appropriate docility, they are now confused about their station in the most frustrating ways. We assume this may be remedied by the use of your framework. Even if this approach isn't supported by the millennia of our superior rule and tradition.

Nyx snorted. "Appropriate docility. That's dragon-speak for 'complete mind-control'." The words hung in the air for a heartbeat before they remembered who was sitting across from them.

Their mouth opened, an apology clearly forming—then stopped. Their expression shifted through several rapid calculations, like watching someone solve a complex equation in real-time. Finally, Nyx's features settled into something decidedly unapologetic.

Cordelia watched the entire internal journey with visible delight. "Good! Another person with spine in this room." She studied Nyx more intently. "Though I can't tell if you're going for 'brass balls' or 'steel ovaries' today. Hard to tell with you, and I mean that as a compliment. Either way, I appreciate the audacity."

"I have whatever I feel like having," Nyx replied, their form shimmering slightly with mischief. "Balls, ovaries, both, neither—depends entirely on my mood, not anyone else's expectations. Today I'm feeling particularly ambiguous about the whole thing."

Cordelia laughed. "Oh, I like you. Most shapeshifters pick one thing to impress me with and stick to it. Usually wrong."

The tension in the room eased fractionally, though everyone kept a careful distance from their draconic visitor. Valerius used the distraction to drift closer to the window, though he tried to make it look casual. With a bit of effort, Mo continued reading.

Unlike other Houses that view these developments as threats to the established order—a rather limited perspective typical of firmament-bound thinking—we recognize an unfortunate necessity. Your D.E.V.I.O.U.S. Framework offers a potential solution to managing this transformation without the tedious business of executing entire populations. We've done that before. It's messy, expensive, and the paperwork takes centuries to complete.

"Curious," Lucian said. "The depths echo what you carved into eternity's ice. Your Ethereal Codex filing spoke of preservation through transformation rather than elimination. Even ancient waters recognize when the tide has already turned."

Cordelia's eyes sharpened with interest. "You filed D.E.V.I.O.U.S. with the Ethereal Codex? That's... actually brilliant. Even we can't argue with eternal documentation."

"Of course I did. It was the most reasonable thing to do. And I already have a few early adopters. My empire was, of course, the first to test-run the framework." Mo felt a flicker of pride before returning to the letter's increasingly condescending tone.

Be aware: The Eternal Flame Concordat and the Crystalline Sovereignty have taken notice of your actions. The first one thinks you are corrupting the natural order. Ironic, given their propensity for setting things on fire and calling it 'purification.' The members of the second are debating whether to sue you for copyright infringement, as they claim to have invented bureaucratic rigidity. We find both positions tedious, but thought you should know you're being discussed at levels of power your human-addled mind cannot properly comprehend.

Rose-gold energy crackled along Mo's arms, her hair lifting slightly as her powers responded to the insult. The coffee maker in the corner started steaming without a command.

Cordelia reached over and placed a surprisingly gentle hand on Mo's wrist. "And that's exactly why I decided to come in person." Her touch was warm, not threatening—almost sisterly. "For neophytes, draconic letters are basically elaborate negging. We have to maintain our mystique, you understand. Can't have the universe thinking we've gone soft just because we need something."

"You need us?" Valerius asked, unable to hide his surprise.

Cordelia's gaze shifted to him, and her smile became noticeably sharper. "Oh, not you specifically, boy. Your particular brand of aristocratic angst isn't really our flavor." She examined her nails with theatrical disinterest. "Did I say need? I meant... would find temporarily convenient." She winked at Mo. "See? Mystique maintained."

Valerius' face darkened with indignation, but the briefest movement at the edge of Mo's vision—was that Lucian's hand?—seemed to settle him back to normal. Mo took a breath, grounding herself as well, and continued reading.

We neither offer protection nor patronage—such concepts are for lesser powers who require validation, and honestly, what could you possibly offer us that we haven't already possessed for eons? Instead, we propose an exchange that acknowledges your temporary usefulness: Your framework's implementation in our territories, in exchange for our grudging acknowledgment that you exist and matter marginally more than the average fairy.

A representative will make contact with you.

At this line, Cordelia stood abruptly and executed an elaborate bow that somehow managed to be both perfectly formal and completely mocking. "Your representative has arrived, oh temporarily useful one!"

Mo looked up from the letter. "You're the representative?"

"Keep reading," Cordelia said, still holding the bow with unnatural grace.

Do try not to die before then. Dealing with replacements and heirs is time-consuming and tedious. We've already gone to the trouble of learning your name.

"In reality, they spent three days in a temporal chamber debating how to pronounce 'Morgana'," Cordelia said, straightening. "Great-aunt Tempestas insisted the 'g' was silent."

The depths remember all who dare disturb their surfaces. Most drown. You're still floating. For now.

—The Abyssal Depth Covenant. Fourth Among Great Houses (First in Liquid Assets). Eternal as the Tide, Patient as Entropy

"Patient as Entropy?" Nyx muttered. "That's the most pretentious signature I've ever seen, and I've seen the letter Valerius' father sent to mine with his comments about D.E.V.I.O.U.S."

"Hey!" Valerius protested.

"Am I wrong though?" Nyx challenged.

Cordelia laughed, settling back onto the couch. "The signature is from a template. But you should see our traditional holiday cards."

She pulled out her pocket clepsydra, checking something that seemed to swim through its curves. "So, now that you've read our generous letter of acknowledgement, shall we discuss terms? My family does get restless when kept waiting. They start making contingency plans."

Mo studied the dragon's expectant face, then looked at her friends—Nyx ready to negotiate, Lucian calculating odds, Valerius fighting to look unimpressed through obvious tension. The letter's weight seemed to grow exponentially with every second in her hands.

The author's narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

***

The silence held for a few moments before Mo folded the letter and said simply: "No."

The room erupted in motion. Valerius instinctively stepped in front of Lucian, shadows coiling protectively. At the same moment, Lucian moved to shield Valerius, frost spreading in defensive patterns. Nyx's form sharpened into something with more edges than geometry should allow.

"Explain yourself." Cordelia's cheerfulness evaporated, replaced by pressure that could crack submarine hulls.

"I'm not your subordinate, even if you consider me food," Mo said. "And from where I'm sitting, your presence here suggests you need me more than I need you. Even if it was strongly suggested I find a patron among the Top Four."

Cordelia tilted her head, studying Mo with renewed interest. The pressure didn't lessen, but something like amusement flickered in her reptilian eyes. "Go on."

"I'm willing to license D.E.V.I.O.U.S. to the Covenant. I'll even offer a substantial discount given the scope of your territories. The standard rate is one-tenth of a copper sliver per being per month. For you? I'd offer and thirty percent discount." Mo leaned forward, matching Cordelia's predatory energy with her own.

"Ninety percent."

No one dared to move in the room.

"Forty percent. You are already getting it almost for free as your servants will pay for it from their wages."

"Seventy percent. We know how to count our money. Even if they are temporarily allocated in the pockets of our servants.

"Fifty percent. And that's only because you are the first House out of the Top Four that decided to approach me." Said Mo with a toothy smile that matched Cordelia's.

"Sixty."

Mo extended her hand. "Deal. But besides acknowledging that I exist, you'll also grant me rights to advertise your adoption of the framework."

Cordelia was silent for a long moment, then laughed. "You want to use us for marketing?"

"You want to use me for revolutionary crisis management. Seems fair. And also…"

"What?" Cordelia snapped a bit too sharply.

"D.E.V.I.O.U.S. comes with a social and medical service toolkit. We'll charge you full fees for N.E.C.K.E.D. That's non-negotiable."

Cordelia roared so suddenly that everyone except Mo moved further away from her.

"Alright. That's a deal."

Nyx's form relaxed a bit more after that exchange, though their edges remained sharp. "Now that the scary part is done, oh gracious dragoness, could you please answer my question: Why did the dragons send a student to negotiate something this important?"

Cordelia's human-looking façade momentarily cracked, literally, as scales pushed through her skin and her jaw elongated slightly, revealing rows of teeth that belonged in prehistoric nightmares. "Student?"

"I just meant…"

"I know what you meant." Cordelia's voice carried harmonics that made the windows vibrate. "This form looks young because dragon aging doesn't match average demonic expectations. I'm forty-seven years old—barely past hatchling by our standards, not a kid anymore by yours." The scales receded, but slowly. "In our clan, conducting that kind of negotiations is considered essential education. Third-year at the Academy to learn some advanced magical techniques, ten years assisting my aunt in contract law." She looked pointedly at Mo. "Also, it's not like this will change anything for us in the grand scheme of things."

Nyx opened their mouth but decided against saying something else.

"My relatives trust me to represent our interests," Cordelia said, continuing to glower at Mo. "Can you not say the same about your... comrades?"

Mo met her gaze steadily. "They trust me. I trust them. And even while I represent my own interest here, ask your questions, Nyx."

"Nevermind. I... withdraw the question."

The negotiations stretched through the afternoon and into the evening, covering territories, implementation timelines, and fee structures that made Mo's head spin with zeros before and after the decimal point. By the time they finished, Mo's hand ached from signing documents that seemed to exist in multiple dimensions simultaneously due to the Covenant's hallmark magic, and she felt lightheaded—her blood reserves noticeably diminished after each contract required blood signatures.

Even with the insane discount, that deal would provide seventeen thousand soul cores annually for only the basic framework. Not including the social and medical services that were designed in a way both to provide Mo's empire with additional revenue and to extend the life spans of the servant races to almost the same life expectancies as in the most advanced countries on Earth. It wasn't enough to make her empire rival even the number five in the rankings. But her seventh position may shift really soon if things continued to evolve the same way.

"You should eat raw liver," Cordelia said matter-of-factly, watching Mo sway slightly. "Or at least rare steak. Maybe two or three of them. Blood loss from signing so many contracts hits differently than normal bleeding. I've been doing that for years, you know. Seen all kinds of weird stuff. But your body needs iron and proteins, preferably still twitching."

"I'll stick with coffee and maybe a steak, thank you very much," Mo said, steadying herself on the sofa.

"Your loss. Nothing restores your blood reserves like something that recently had its own. Especially if that's a magical being." Cordelia shrugged. "Which now is almost everyone, I guess."

Her eyes suddenly lit up with an excitement that made everyone in the room take an unconscious step back. Cordelia's pupils dilated, and she actually clapped her hands together once, like a child discovering presents.

"I probably don't want to know what kind of dining plans you're suddenly making in your head," Mo said quickly.

"Oh, but the possibilities! The flavor profiles! Everyone developing different magical signatures means entirely new culinary…" Cordelia caught their horrified expressions and visibly forced herself to calm down. "Right. Demonic sensibilities. I'll save that enthusiasm for family dinner."

"I'll need to send this to Grimz immediately," Mo said, sealing a copy for her financial advisor while trying to ignore both the way the room tilted slightly and Cordelia's disturbing enthusiasm about magical population expansion. "He'd have to create entire new budgeting categories for this scale of operation."

"Your goblin revolutionary handles your books?" Cordelia's pupils dilated. "That's either brilliant or insane."

"Both, usually," Mo admitted, remembering Grimz standing in the transformed throne room just recently, parliamentary democracy blooming under his guidance. "He has a talent for impossible reorganizations." She paused. "And parties, as it appears."

A knock at the door made everyone freeze. The previous person to know was Cordelia. And while in the end the results of that addition to the gathering were quite impressive, it still didn't feel completely safe to be in her presence.

Nyx opened it to find Lady Thornheart standing in the hallway like a living person would, her ghostly form so agitated she'd apparently forgotten she could phase through walls. The Victorian specter, who usually considered doors a mere suggestion, was waiting for permission to enter.

"The hour is unconscionably late," Lady Thornheart announced, drifting inside with visible effort, her Victorian severity more pronounced than usual. "And I find…" She stopped, her translucent form flickering with distress. "Males in the female dormitory past curfew. This is unacceptable."

Mo had never seen the dormitory guardian so frazzled. Her usually perfect spectral appearance showed cracks—emotional distress manifesting as actual fractures in her ghostly form, like a porcelain doll with hairline breaks.

"Lady Thornheart, we were just…"

"Rules exist for reasons, Miss Nightshade. Even if everything else is falling apart, even if people we trusted reveal themselves as..." She stopped herself, but Mo could guess. Julian. The ghost had liked that human. As did Mo.

"Everyone out. Now. I don't care about your scheming or your negotiations or…"

She paused, taking in the scene more carefully: Mo swaying slightly from blood loss, papers scattered across every surface, Valerius standing intimately close to Lucian, Nyx's form shifting restlessly, and an unknown young woman lounging on the couch with predatory ease. The ghost's expression shifted from distress to scandalized horror.

"...whatever depraved activities you modern students consider appropriate for mixed company." Her ghostly form actually flushed a deeper translucent shade. "Five young people, various genders, locked in a suite for hours, one clearly exhausted from fatigue—I'm not naïve about what that typically entails."

"We were negotiating contracts!" Mo protested, heat rising to her cheeks.

"Is that what you call it now?" Lady Thornheart's voice dripped with centuries of accumulated disapproval. "And I suppose all this 'negotiating' required physical proximity and exchange of bodily fluids?"

Cordelia made a delighted sound, like a cat discovering a new toy. "Oh, this is precious. Bodily fuilds. We definitely enjoy bodily fuyids. Please, do go on."

The ghost turned to fully acknowledge the stranger for the first time, her disapproval sharpening. "And who might you be, young lady?"

Cordelia stood slowly, unfolding from the couch with liquid grace. "Someone you should have recognized immediately. I'm the appointed representative of the Abyssal Depth Covenant."

Lady Thornheart's form solidified in recognition, then immediately became translucent with fear. "I... Lady Emberclaw. I didn't realize... Of course, your diplomatic immunity supersedes dormitory regulations. I'll... I'll just..."

The ghost vanished without completing her sentence, leaving behind only the faint aura of Victorian disapproval and fear.

"Diplomatic immunity?" Mo said incredulously. "I'm the head of an entire House and I don't have diplomatic immunity from dormitory rules."

"That's because you're not in the… wait, you really thought being seventh should get you immunity? Oh, that's adorable. No, darling, only the Top Four get that. When your family can flood whole worlds, or, in the Eternal Flame's case, incinerate them, even ghosts learn to make exceptions. It's not about fairness—it's about survival instincts that transcend death."

"That was still unnecessary," Mo said quietly. "She's obviously been through enough these past days."

Cordelia's predatory demeanor shifted, becoming almost thoughtful. "The ghost cares about propriety because it's all she has left, isn't it? Structure in place of substance." She gathered her things with surprising gentleness. "I should go anyway. The contracts are signed, and I have cousins to horrify with news of your negotiating style."

She paused at the door. "The guardian ghost… She'll recover. She'll find an explanation why all of that perfectly fits within her worldview. The rigid ones always do. It's the flexible ones who break when their trust is betrayed." Her smile returned, sharp but not unkind. "Six weeks for initial implementation, Nightshade. That's when? Around the beginning of the Tournament? Terrible timing, unless you're planning to use the chaos as cover. Which you are, aren't you?"

Mo was both exhausted and exhilarated by the turn of events. So much so, she wasn't even trying to answer all the rhetorical questions Cordelia bombarded her with.

"Anyway, don't be late. And don't forget about scaling. It's not the Obscuris domain, you know."

After she left, the room felt both emptier and less pressurized, like they'd all been holding their breath underwater and could finally surface.

"She knows my family name…" Nyx exhaled.

"Of course she knows, she obviously came prepared," Mo said. "Even if she acted as if none of you mattered."

"Did we just survive negotiating with a dragon?" Valerius asked.

"This woman didn't leave me reassured we are out of the woods yet," Mo said, looking at the contracts. "For them, it's a rounding error. For us? We just became a boutique firm that services the giants."

"So, what happens now?" Nyx asked.

"I have no idea," Mo said. "If there was one thing my parents wanted to always remember, it was never to play with dragons. But I definitely sense that the game has just changed. Again. And we have no other option than to make our bets."