I Reincarnated as My Favorite Villainess Saint (Magic Marza), So I’ll Use Game Knowledge to Smash Every Doom Flag! - Chapter 16

After the king’s judgment was delivered, what awaited us upon leaving the audience chamber was a hellishly awkward silence.

Crown Prince Alphonse, his handsome face twisted with hatred from humiliation unlike anything he had likely ever experienced, glared at me before spitting out in a strangled voice:

“Remember this.”

With that childish parting shot like a grade-schooler’s sore-loser remark, he strode briskly away. His retreating figure radiated unmistakable hostility toward me.

Meanwhile, the heroine had already slipped back into her usual mask of benevolent saintliness.

“Lady Lydia, things will be difficult from now on, won’t they? But His Highness is a man of great responsibility. I’m sure he’ll become a wonderful aide to you. Please take good care of him.”

Her smiling face showed not a trace of her earlier defeat. The speed of her recovery her masterful duplicity was almost admirable.

Eventually, only Claude, Liner, and I remained.

“…Can a man like that truly serve as Lady Lydia’s aide?”

“If it comes to it, I’ll snap that golden-haired bastard’s neck myself.”

As Claude and Liner exchanged these ominous words, I screamed internally:

(Stop it! Don’t make any more trouble for me!)

While soothing my two loyal retainers, I somehow managed to disband the gathering for the day.

Returning to my family’s estate, the Crestmont ducal residence for the first time in a while, I was greeted by the relieved faces of my maids. At last, I can sleep in my own bed. But no sooner had the thought crossed my mind than my strict father, Duke Crestmont, summoned me to his study.

“Lydia.”

Across the heavy mahogany desk, my father fixed me with a stern gaze.

“I’ve heard about this recent incident. I won’t tolerate any further disgrace to the Crestmont name.”

His words held no concern for me only for the family’s honor and reputation.

“Crown Prince Alphonse is the man you will serve for the rest of your life. As the future crown princess, you must never defy him.”

…Ah, I see. It struck me anew, this was how the game’s Lydia had been misunderstood even by her own family. The roots of her loneliness ran deep here as well.

“…I’ll remember that, Father.”

Suppressing my emotions, that was all I could say in reply.

Several days later, I visited a room in the royal palace where Crown Prince Alphonse was supposedly reflecting on his conduct, there to fulfill the king’s decree.

When I opened the door, the sulking crown prince was sprawled on a sofa, glaring at me.

“What do you want? I’m in confinement.”

His attitude made it abundantly clear he had no intention of cooperating.

(Of course it would be like this.)

Hiding my inner sigh, I began in a detached, businesslike tone:

“I’ve come to report and consult regarding my future plans as the Saint.”

I spread across the table the documents I had prepared lists of nobles and regions in need of aid, compiled from my knowledge of the game.

“Your Highness, I would like your assistance in laying the groundwork with the relevant parties and securing budgets for these activities.”

The crown prince glanced at the materials before scoffing.

“Ridiculous. This is nothing but your own baseless assumptions. I have no obligation to indulge your delusions.”

A refreshingly blunt refusal. But I had anticipated this. For this very moment, I played my trump card.

“Is that so? Your Highness refuses to cooperate with this plan?”

“Naturally.”

“Understood. Then I shall report this faithfully to His Majesty the King.”

At my words, the prince’s eyebrow twitched. Smiling sweetly the perfect villainess saint, I continued:

” Does Your Highness intend to defy His Majesty’s command a second time?”

The effect was immediate. The words “a second time” must have dredged up his humiliating memory from the audience chamber. The color drained from the prince’s face. Clenching his fists in frustration, he could muster no retort. I pressed the stack of plans onto the table before him.

“Then I leave this in your capable hands.”

And with a final, honeyed blow:

“My reliable ‘aide,’ hmm?”

Leaving the speechless crown prince behind, I gracefully exited the room. This forced partnership, born from the worst possible relationship the future of this ill-fated collaboration already made my stomach twist with dread.