The Villainess is the Villainess [LitRPG]

Only those who will risk going too far can possibly find out how far one can go.

- T.S. Eliot.

If Seraphina was feeling generous, yesterday's tea with Eloise had been a passable affair. It had tasted alright, but something was missing. Perhaps it had been the selection of cakes and biscuits, the temperature of the brew… or something. Still, Seraphina did her best to show her gratitude, complimenting the girl on brewing it excellently.

The girl looked at herself in the mirror. Seraphina stared back.

The name now fit her like a velvet glove, soft yet unmistakably her own. It still amazed her—how effortlessly her mind had stitched itself into this new tapestry. The memories of her old world lingered like half-faded photographs: visible, within arm's reach, but receding in importance with every sunrise.

She raised a hand to the looking-glass. The girl reflected there—long lashes, golden blonde hair, and a figure that was ripening day by day—was no lie. Every curve and contour had become a part of her, and no longer could she presume that she was only playing the part of Seraphina de Sariens. She was Seraphina de Sariens, through and through, and she sensed that prying too deeply into the metaphysics of that truth would only invite existential madness. Besides, there was something far more practical to occupy her. A problem that she could solve.

Miriam, sweet, timid Miriam, was floundering. And if her maid's scores continued to sink, Seraphina's own reputation would undoubtedly follow. That was a problem she could, and would, solve.

Seraphina's tone turned flinty as she addressed the reflection of the girl hovering behind her.

"Milly."

"Yes, milady." Miriam clasped her hands over her apron, brown eyes wide with apprehension.

"I hear your academic marks have… slipped." The words dropped like stones into still water.

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"I am having some difficulties, milady," she murmured, cheeks coloring.

Seraphina pivoted, silk slippers whispering against the carpeted floor. "That simply will not do, will it? You struggling is an affront; it makes me look as though I'm working you to the bone. Tell me—am I overburdening you with tasks beyond your limited abilities?"

"Of course not, milady!" Miriam blurted, dread pressing her shoulders.

"Come now, honesty is healthy." Seraphina's voice thawed into a feline purr. "Clearly, you have too much on your plate. I shall alleviate the load… Hrmmm, by granting you an assistant."

"An… assistant, milady?"

"Indeed, Milly. Consider me in a generous mood." A playful arch lifted Seraphina's brow.

Miriam swallowed. "May I ask who you had in mind?"

"Why, Ibn, of course—once he returns from whatever he is doing with the adventurers. Probably chopping at some monster or another. I was thinking that we can't have him growing any more feral than his lineage already allows."

"Ibn?" Miriam's voice cracked. "Isn't he rather young for—"

"I am certain he can count to ten. You will teach him the rest until he's truly useful. Think of it as an investment—time and effort now for ease later."

The "suggestion" landed on Miriam's shoulders like a fresh crate of sugar-glass confections. Training a raw boy inside a burgeoning sweets empire—one soon to leap onto foreign shores—was no small duty. And Ibn, in her private estimation, was no razor-edged intellect. But refusal was not an option.

"Of course, milady. Thank you for your consideration," she said, forcing a smile.

Seraphina's answering grin was blinding. "You're very welcome, Milly. Now, with that settled, see that you rise to the occasion. We wouldn't want the other students in our class to start whispering that you're… slow, would we?"

"Yes, milady," Miriam managed a curtsey, though her knees trembled.

"And, Milly. Hughes is coming later. You may sit in and take notes if you promise not to glare at him all the time. I think he might be of some use to me later."

"As you wish, milady. But…"

"What is it?" Seraphina replied with a small huff.

Miriam's face was a picture of baffled confusion. "I can't see how he would be useful to you. There is nothing special about him at all!"

"That is exactly why, Milly. That is exactly why," the young noblewoman said, smiling at her maid.

"But, I…"

"You don't understand. Yes, I know. But that is why I am the master and you are the servant, Milly."

And with that, Seraphina turned back to the mirror, content; the reflection smiled, and the immediate future shifted subtly into new and sharper focus. The future she could control.