The Villainess is the Villainess [LitRPG]

There are nights when wolves are silent and only the moon howls.

- George Carlin.

Seraphina savored the morning sunlight as it poured through the tall windows, gilding her in its warmth. She took a delicate bite of toast—slightly too thick and chewy for her taste, but still serviceable. A small, amused smile curled her lips as she wondered if she truly had been the one to introduce the concept of "toast" to this world. Would it catch on? Her thoughts drifted as she half-listened to the Bard's gentle complaints echoing in the room. Ah, it might have been another perfect morning if not for a few complications.

"…it's just that I would really like to branch out and try different things," Haze ventured softly. "I know it is a large request, but could you teach me to sing as you do, Lady Seraphina?"

The mention of her name finally pulled Seraphina's attention back to the conversation. "Hrmmm," she murmured, finishing off the last buttery corner of her toast. She washed it down with a sip of milk—an expensive commodity here, which she had made safer by insisting the household staff heat up the milk and pasteurize it. Inwardly, she chuckled at the thought of calling the process "Seraphinization," though she quickly dismissed the idea; it was one thing to have her name attached to an elegant clothing line, quite another to have it associated with simmering milk to kill off nasty bacteria.

Anaselena, the beautiful Duchess, regarded her daughter with an expectant gaze as she popped a peeled grape into her mouth. She had arrived in a carriage drawn by six horses the previous night, rolling in at midnight like a witch out of a fairy tale—much to Seraphina's surprise. The current Duchess of the Sariens certainly knew how to make an entrance.

Under her mother's keen scrutiny, Seraphina felt as though every response she gave was being silently noted and measured.

"I'm afraid I simply do not have the time," Seraphina said at last, fixing Haze with a polite, measured smile. "School will be quite demanding for me, as you well know. Besides, any talent I have—if it is truly talent—may not be something I can teach, and even if I could, I lack the skill to instruct. I truly am sorry, Haze."

"That is indeed a shame," Haze replied, a flicker of disappointment crossing her face. "I was rather sure milady was quite capable of anything." She sighed, running a nervous hand through her orange hair.

Seraphina felt a twinge of irritation at Haze's overly transparent flattery, but she kept her composure, especially with her mother present. For the briefest of moments, she had felt the near-overwhelming urge to prove Haze wrong. However, instead of rising to the bait, she reached up to stroke the smooth scales under the chin of her beloved pet, Cornelia.

The white snake's eyes drifted shut in blissful contentment. Over time, Cornelia had grown far too plump to fit beneath Seraphina's dress as she once did; now, the creature draped herself around Seraphina's shoulders like a living, pearl-white stole. In Seraphina's eyes, it was a rather striking statement of fashion and complemented her noble poise. Even so, she could not help but wonder what her dear pet had been feasting on to gain such weight. Feeling a sting of guilt, Seraphina set aside the butter knife she had been using on another piece of toast. She would have to watch herself lest she be like Cornelia.

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Her mother remained silent as the moment stretched on. What does she want me to do? Seraphina thought irritably.

"Ah, well," she said gently, turning her gaze back to Haze. "Is there anything else I can help you with, hmm?" At the same moment, Cornelia flicked her tongue in Haze's direction, causing the Bard to grimace ever so slightly. "I am your patron, after all."

"My stipend, though generous, is still not enough for lessons in Meridian with a tutor who might match Milady's talents," Haze said, eyeing Cornelia warily. "I was wondering if there might be a chance for—"

"Oh, speak to Miriam about that. I'm delighted to help you further your skills," Seraphina answered magnanimously, letting a subtle, dangerous glint enter her eye. "Let your success be an open challenge to those stuffy old men at the Bardic College."

She rang a small bell, signaling the staff to clear away her breakfast. Understanding the dismissal, Haze bowed and offered her thanks before departing.

Seraphina watched the plates being carried away and realized she was not quite full. Still, perhaps it was better not to have an overly full stomach before giving her speech later that day.

"That was well done, little Sera," Anaselena said with a sweet smile. "It's good to be generous. A little kindness can go a long way. I may have been somewhat remiss in not teaching you that valuable lesson."

Cornelia curled more tightly around Seraphina's shoulders.

Seraphina returned her mother's smile, though with effort. "Your wisdom is always appreciated, Mother. But what, pray tell, would you have done in my place?" she asked, striving to keep the sarcasm from creeping into her voice. Like Cornelia, Seraphina herself harbored more than a little wariness toward the Duchess.

"I had not realized the gods touched you with Music's gift," Anaselena mused, propping her chin on her hands. "They give and take, though not always in equal measure. Yet one does not always need to teach in order to teach, daughter," she stated pointedly. "Oh, by the by, you will be glad to know that Master Wilforte and Master Solesthrop have received enough commissions to last three lifetimes…"

"Oh, good for them…" Seraphine shook her head, not wanting to let herself get diverted. "What do you mean, teach?"

"A master of his craft must practice, does he not, to maintain or improve his skill? Do you not practice your singing? Simply have that Bard present during your practice. Observation is a form of learning. That alone would keep your little would-be musician happy, and cost you next to nothing. You should keep her close."

"Haze is not just any would-be musician! Haze is a Bard equal to—" Seraphina spluttered in protest. Her mother had a way of getting under her skin like no one else could.

"And Sir Frest is no Knight," Anaselena replied disapprovingly, her voice as placid as a still lake. "It takes more than new spurs, a fancy weapon, and a fine steed to make a Knight. But what of it, my dear?"

"I will not fence words with you, Mother. I have an important welcome speech to give in a few hours," Seraphina said testily, pushing herself up from her seat. "And Frest makes a fine Knight. He even slew…" Seraphina stopped herself and sat back down.

"Oh, he is, is he?" Anaselena asked with a raised eyebrow. "Very well. Go and practice your little speech in your room for the next hour. If you bring shame upon our name, I will…" She let the threat dangle.

That was enough for Seraphina. Between the "second puberty" she was enduring in this world and the general stress of recent events, her patience had frayed to the limit. She stood so abruptly and then stormed out of the room, leaving the servants to exchange worried glances.

"Be down in a glass and a half, my dear!" her mother called after her, cheerfully enough.