The Villainess is the Villainess [LitRPG]

Book 2: Chapter 22 - Fresh Choices [Part 1]

Sometimes you make the right decision, sometimes you make the decision right.

- Phil McGraw.

Classes had finally begun, and Seraphina found herself locked into a new life of seemingly endless tedium. Her schedule was still crammed with additional lessons from Lord Beron de Laney, though the atmosphere between tutor and pupil had grown strangely taut. She recognized that look in his eyes—the same yearning, equal parts dream and failure, that she had witnessed in countless others. In her mind, Lord Beron had merely joined the throng of would-be admirers who could not quite manage to acquire her. A touch pathetic, really, though she still found him useful for prying out useful information.

Now she sat in a large, sunlit classroom, her posture so perfect she might have been a living piece of art. Golden hair caught the rays that slanted in through the windows, rendering her features radiant and angelic. The boys, though they tried to be subtle, stole glances whenever they imagined she was distracted. But she knew precisely when she was being watched.

The lazy morning had drifted by with a lecture on the neighboring Empire, that sprawling conglomerate of once-warring tribes forged by Emperor Zhu Li through a dizzying blend of conquest, bribery, and political marriages. According to the lore, he had been aided by five thousand foreign warriors, a mysterious contingent from lands beyond the Empire's borders. These were men who, according to the histories, had shaped its armies, its governance, and even its architecture. Fascinating though it was, the teacher, Mister Drenaul Zard, adored the sound of his own voice a shade too much for Seraphina's liking, and she soon found herself sinking into an even deeper form of boredom. For a moment, Seraphina fantasized about smashing his head through the blackboard.

Raise your hand, Milly, Seraphina silently commanded.

Her maid Miriam obeyed, arm shooting up like a startled jack-in-the-box.

"Miss Bottlesworth," Zard intoned, "perhaps you can enlighten us about the year Emperor Zhu Li first received the Mandate of Heaven?"

Two thousand three hundred years before the Cataclysm, Seraphina supplied silently.

"Uh… 2300 B.C.?" Miriam ventured hesitantly.

Zard's jowls quivered as he shook his head. "I'm afraid not, Miss Bottlesworth. Current scholarship in Quas points to approximately 1900 B.C."

Seraphina lifted her hand, remembering an overlooked detail. Zard acknowledged her with a wary smile. "Yes, Miss de Sariens?"

"I believe the commoner is correct," Seraphina said, her voice as poised and collected as her posture.

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Zard blinked in confusion. "I assure you, Lady, err, Miss de Sariens, the modern consensus is—"

"Next month, when groundwork begins in the Palana Gardens of the Quas Council, they will discover a hidden cache of scrolls exchanged with the Empire centuries ago. Those scrolls will date the Empire's founding to 2300 B.C. So I'm quite certain Miss Bottlesworth…"

"This is a flight of fancy, Miss de Sariens. You cannot simply…"

"Are you calling the Sight a 'flight of fancy,' Mister Zard?" Seraphina asked, a serene smile on her lips but a cool challenge in her tone. She did not enjoy being interrupted. "It is, after all, one of the greatest pillars of Aranthia's Strength."

"Regardless, current scholarship…" he spluttered, but was cut off by the fortuitous tolling of the bell.

"Very well," he said, clearing his throat. "We'll continue this discussion next time. And remember, your electives begin soon. Choose wisely!" he added with a wink.

He had been saved, Seraphina noted, from a truly thorough dressing-down.

Students poured out of the classroom in a chattering stream. One of them, a pleasantly ordinary brown-haired girl named Fleur, paused by Seraphina's desk. "Lady Seraphina, what you said about the Palana Gardens, was it true?"

Seraphina shrugged with polished indifference. "It will be. Are you tempted to join the dig? You could make quite the scholarly name for yourself."

For a moment, Fleur appeared to seriously consider it.

Then, a slightly plump classmate with flaxen hair named Amanda, often caught daydreaming through lessons, suddenly decided to speak up. "Was it… something you foresaw with the Sight? How does it work?"

"That, my dears, is a closely guarded secret of my family," Seraphina replied with a mischievous glimmer in her eye. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have Basic Spellcraft to attend, and it's half a campus away."

"Of course!" her classmates chorused, scattering like leaves in the breeze.

Seraphina slipped into the corridor and spotted Eloise de Savant, so petite and perfectly styled she resembled a porcelain doll, exchanging farewells with her new friend Desdemona. The moment Desdemona headed off to her Fine Arts class, Eloise turned to greet Seraphina.

"How were your classes?" Seraphina asked.

Eloise heaved a dramatic sigh. "Utterly dull, to be honest. We've covered nearly everything before. I feel I could sleep through the lessons without losing much."

Seraphina wagged a finger with mock severity. "Careful, Eloise. That's precisely how our teachers might lull you into a false sense of security. One must stay vigilant."

"You might be right," Eloise said, tapping her chin thoughtfully. "But truly, it's been so boring. Who taught you this morning?"

"A pompous man named Zard," Seraphina replied, rolling her eyes. "He's overly fond of his own voice and has a habit of just droning on."

"We got Miss Templeton," Eloise said, wrinkling her nose. "She speaks so softly it's impossible to catch every word, and what she does say, I've heard before. She's… just not very good."

"Everyone must start somewhere," Seraphina said, a trace of defensiveness in her tone. "No one is a master from the start. Anyway, it's a long walk to the Tower's basement for our Spellcraft class. I must confess, I'm not entirely sure which route to take. We could try and cut across the grounds, but I hear there is another way."

Eloise nodded eagerly. "I've explored a bit—I know a shortcut. Let's go!" She pointed at a narrow staircase. "By the way," she added, glancing over her shoulder, "which elective did Milly pick?"

"Bookkeeping, of all things," Seraphina said.

Eloise frowned. "Why would a maid need bookkeeping?"

Seraphina offered a graceful shrug, one that might have driven an artist mad with envy. "Who knows? Perhaps the silly thing dreams of becoming something more than a mere maid."