I Reincarnated as My Favorite Villainess Saint (Magic Marza), So I’ll Use Game Knowledge to Smash Every Doom Flag! - Chapter 13

My convalescence at the Ansbach ducal estate proved astonishingly peaceful.

Even after awakening from my three-day coma, Claude’s strong recommendation (read: insistence) that I “ensure full recovery” meant I remained at his residence for some time.

Every day brought lavish meals that could rival three-Michelin-star courses. A luxuriously soft bed. Beautiful gardens. And servants who reverently addressed me as “Lady Lydia” while attending to my every need.

(Is this, the NEET life of nobility? Absolute bliss.)

My previous life surviving on energy drinks while chained to my desk, felt like a distant memory.

Elise, now fully recovered, visited my chambers daily. Even Rainer, for some inexplicable reason, made punctual daily appearances under the guise of checking on me. Their recent routine involved Claude and him bickering like children: “I belong at Lady Lydia’s side!” “No, it should be me!”

I’d begun nurturing the faint hope that these tranquil days might continue, allowing me to forget both my doom flags and my destiny as the villainess saint.

Then, on that fateful day, a royal carriage bearing the crest of the royal family arrived at the Ansbach estate.

Delivered into my hands was a parchment scroll, an official summons bearing the king’s signature and the royal seal.

“So it’s come to this after all.”

The stated reason: “Inquiry regarding the incident at the graduation commemorative soirée.” Of course it wouldn’t be overlooked. A public confrontation between the prince and the saintess wasn’t the sort of matter that could simply fade into obscurity. The stage had merely shifted, from soirée to the royal audience chamber.

“Lady Lydia, you needn’t worry. I shall accompany you.”

“That’s right, Saintess. We told you, we’re your swords now.”

Behind me, Claude and Rainer stirred with agitation. Their loyalty was heartening yet I could only foresee complications arising from their presence.

(Please, I beg you, don’t pour oil on the fire.!)

My silent plea went unheard. Days later, I found myself approaching the royal palace.

Ushered into the solemn audience chamber, I beheld the king seated upon his throne, a man in his fifties who stood at the apex of our nation’s power. His stern gaze carried an air of sharp intellect.

Beside the throne stood Crown Prince Alphonse and the heroine, clad in pure white.

The prince glanced my way and snorted, his eyes gleaming with arrogant certainty of victory.

The king’s grave voice echoed through the silence.

“Lydia von Kressment. Regarding the recent soirée incident most regrettable. First, we shall hear Alphonse’s account.”

“At once!”

The prince stepped forward eagerly.

“Father. I merely sought to uphold our kingdom’s order. Saintess Lydia attempted to cruelly condemn innocent nobles under the guise of her authority unconscionable conduct unbefitting a saintess. I simply intervened to prevent this.”

His claims hadn’t changed one whit since the soirée.

“Lydia. Your response?”

The king’s gaze shifted to me. I drew a quiet breath and raised my head.

“Your Majesty. I merely performed the duties prescribed to the saintess by law. I issued investigation notices to those suspected of magical violations. Prince Alphonse publicly denounced this as ‘condemnation’ without verifying facts, thereby damaging my honor.”

My calm rebuttal provoked the prince’s outburst: “Sophistry!” Our opposing claims collided head-on as the king observed silently. Eventually, he spoke.

“Then let us hear witnesses. Bring them in.”

With the king’s command, the chamber’s heavy doors groaned open.

Prince Alphonse’s lips twisted triumphantly. His witnesses needless to say were Claude and Rainer. He clearly expected their testimony as “victims” of Lydia’s “condemnation” to favor him.

Yet when Claude and Rainer entered, they didn’t approach the throne.

Instead, they stepped before me, planting themselves like human shields at my side.

The prince’s smirk vanished.

Claude bowed deeply to the king.

“Your Majesty. With all respect, I must declare Saintess Lydia’s actions were far from unconscionable. Indeed, they rescued our Ansbach house from the brink of despair.”

“What!?”

The prince gaped. Unperturbed, Rainer continued:

“Damn right! The saintess is our people’s my territory’s greatest benefactor!”

This unforeseen “betrayal” transformed the prince’s expression from certainty of victory, to shock, then fury. Even the heroine’s flawless smile showed subtle but unmistakable strain.

The king’s piercing gaze swept over Claude, Rainer, and myself.

“Explain. In detail.”

Tension reclaimed the audience chamber’s air. The story was veering into uncharted territory toward developments even I couldn’t foresee.