My Step-Daughters Are The Villainesses

"Your Majesty."

Kaliantha’s eyes opened.

Ulrich was awake.

His dark red eyes watched her from the bed.

For one suspended moment, neither of them moved.

His fingers were still interlaced with hers.

Their joined hands rested against her chest.

Ulrich’s gaze shifted downward.

Then returned to her face.

"Count Rubenhart," Kaliantha called back and let go of his hand as if nothing had happened to begin with.

Ulrich lowered his hand.

His face remained equally composed.

Internally, however, he could not understand what the hell had just happened.

The Queen had entered his chamber alone. She had sat beside his bed. She had taken his hand. Then, while he had still been half asleep, she had brought it against her chest.

And now she had released him as though he had imagined the entire thing.

Ulrich chose not to think about it.

There was no answer he could obtain from Kaliantha, and even if he asked, she would likely respond with a look capable of freezing a lesser man where he stood. More importantly, he had survived poison, five demons, a demonic barrier, and an evening of royal ceremony.

He had other matters to consider.

Ulrich pushed himself upright slowly.

A dull ache spread across his shoulder, arm, and ribs as he shifted against the pillows. The wounds had been treated, the poison had been suppressed, and the fever had broken, but none of that meant his body was completely healed within a day.

He leaned back against the headboard.

A slow breath left him.

He had survived.

Or, rather, he had needed to survive.

It would have been an unbearable humiliation to die from poison after managing to defeat five demons. Ulrich could already imagine the absurdity of it: surviving the blades, the barrier, and the attack itself, only to collapse afterward because some demon had coated its weapon in venom.

No.

That would have been unacceptable.

"How are you feeling?" Kaliantha asked.

Ulrich glanced toward her.

"Tired, Your Majesty."

His voice was rougher than usual.

Then he asked, "How much time has passed?"

"Only a day," Kaliantha replied.

Ulrich’s brow tightened slightly.

Only one day.

His recovery had been faster than expected.

Still, he had lost enough blood that he should not have woken so soon.

The royal physicians had clearly done competent work.

"Where are my wards?" He asked immediately.

"They are safe," she said. "They have been given chambers within the castle and are receiving proper care."

Ulrich nodded.

The tension in his shoulders eased.

For better or worse, he did not like leaving the three sisters alone without knowing precisely who stood around them, what they had access to, or whether someone might try to approach them under cover of kindness.

Perhaps it was paranoia.

Perhaps it was only responsibility.

Either way, the thought of Esther, Hermione, and Airam being safe within the castle brought him relief.

"Guards," Kaliantha called.

The door opened immediately.

A knight stepped inside and bowed.

"Your Majesty?"

"Call the Rubenhart sisters," she said. "The Count has awakened."

"At once, Your Majesty."

The knight bowed again and withdrew.

Ulrich almost objected.

They did not need to rush to him.

But the guard had already gone.

Ulrich let the matter pass.

Kaliantha watched him for a moment.

Then she said, "You placed your life on the line to protect me, Lord Rubenhart."

Ulrich met her eyes.

"I protected my Queen," he said. "As anyone should."

Kaliantha’s expression did not change.

"Loyalty is one thing," she replied. "But when death becomes real, most people choose their own lives over another’s. Unless the other person is important enough to them."

Ulrich frowned slightly.

The question was too direct.

It was also inconvenient.

"You are important," he answered.

The words came too quickly.

For a moment, the room seemed to become still.

Kaliantha’s eyes did not leave his face.

Ulrich recognized how it sounded only after he had said it.

His expression barely changed, but he added at once, "For the kingdom."

"For the kingdom," Kaliantha repeated.

"Yes."

Ulrich nodded.

That was the truth.

Or at least, part of it.

He could have stepped away before the barrier activated. He could have trusted the Phoenix Heart to awaken when Kaliantha’s life was threatened. The artifact would likely have saved her from the demons’ blades, perhaps even shattered the barrier when the danger became severe enough.

But he had not been willing to gamble on it.

The demons might have known about the Phoenix Heart.

They might have possessed a method to weaken it. They might have prepared a weapon capable of bypassing its protection, or a spell meant to keep it from activating at all. And even if the artifact saved Kaliantha, allowing it to reveal itself would alert the demons to its existence.

The Phoenix Heart was safer while it remained unknown.

Besides, Ulrich could recover from a wound.

He could recover from suspicion.

He could recover from making himself visible to enemies who had previously believed him uninvolved.

Kaliantha could not recover from death.

The Skargardian Kingdom without Kaliantha would be unbearable.

Antonias would stand as its sole ruler. Albert and Camellia would be left with a father who had humiliated their mother in public on the very night demons attempted to kill her. The court would fracture. The kingdom would weaken. And when the war against demons finally came, one of the few people capable of holding Skargardia together would already be gone.

Ulrich felt disgust rise at the thought.

It could not happen.

Kaliantha was not merely a queen who needed protection.

She was one of the most important people in the world.

And she would become even more important for the war against the demons.

"Regardless of your true intentions, you protected my life, Lord Rubenhart. For that," she said, "I am thankful."

Ulrich inclined his head.

"Your gratitude honors me, Your Majesty."

"However."

The word came quickly enough that Ulrich’s expression did not have time to relax.

Kaliantha’s mismatched eyes sharpened.

"I believe you are concealing a lot from me."

Ulrich met her gaze without speaking.

"You asked me to dance," she continued. "At first, I presumed it was a political gesture. Then I believed you wished to observe me closely, perhaps to learn something you could not ask directly." Her fingers folded neatly over one another. "But now I think you asked because you felt danger approaching."

She paused.

"Or because you had somehow learned that my life was in danger."

The room fell silent.

Kaliantha watched him with cold scrutiny.

"Remaining near me would have been the most effective course," she said. "You could either warn me when the danger appeared or protect me before the guards reached us."

Ulrich had known this question would come.

Kaliantha was grateful. She was not foolish.

A woman incapable of suspicion would never have survived as Queen in a court such as Skargardia’s. The timing of the attack was too convenient. Ulrich had requested a dance with her shortly before demons struck. He had positioned himself between her and the masked assassin before anyone else understood what was happening.

No intelligent person would call that coincidence.

"I felt something was wrong with the masked musician," Ulrich said. "But I did not know what."

Kaliantha’s expression remained unchanged.

"I approached Your Majesty during the traditional dance because I intended to warn you directly. The King arrived at that moment." Ulrich said. "Afterward, I chose to request a dance. I wanted to confirm whether my suspicions had any foundation."

"You could have warned Commander Marx Lambert."

"I could have."

"Then why did you not?"

Ulrich rested back against the headboard carefully, mindful of the pain in his side.

"Commander Lambert does not trust me," he replied. "And I had no evidence beyond a feeling. I did not wish to create panic during a royal celebration based on an unproven suspicion."

Kaliantha’s gaze narrowed.

"And yet you asked me to dance."

"Yes."

"To inform me of a potential danger."

"Yes."

"But you told me nothing," she said coldly. "Even when I asked you what was wrong."

Ulrich remained quiet for a moment.

Kaliantha had asked him.

She had felt the tension in his hand. She had noticed his attention shifting. She had directly demanded to know what had changed.

He had evaded her.

"As I said, Your Majesty," Ulrich replied, "I was not certain of my assumptions."

Kaliantha held his eyes.

"So be it."

The words did not mean she believed him.

They meant she had chosen, for the moment, not to press further.

"But I am curious," she added. "How did you decide that the musician was a possible assassin? You must have remarkably keen instincts to identify danger from a man standing among a quartet."

Ulrich’s mind moved quickly.

He could not tell her that he had seen the man checking a black box. He could not explain why the sight had placed him instantly on guard. He certainly could not tell her about Zagon, the novel, or his knowledge that Kaliantha’s death had once been part of a future he was trying to change.

So he gave her the safest piece of truth he had.

"His mask was suspicious."

"..."

Kaliantha stared at him.

Her expression did not move.

But the silence made it painfully clear that she was asking whether he truly expected that answer to satisfy her.

Ulrich added, "And he was not a very good violinist."

Kaliantha blinked once.

"Are you a master of the violin, Lord Rubenhart?"

"I have some knowledge."

"Some knowledge."

"Yes."

"And by this knowledge, you determined that a poorly performing musician might be an assassin?"

"He was terrible," Ulrich said, with more conviction than the explanation deserved. "Even to my poor eyes."

Kaliantha’s stare remained fixed upon him.

"Was that sufficient reason to conclude he intended to kill me?"

"It was not," Ulrich admitted. "That is why I did not warn Your Majesty or Commander Lambert directly."

For a long moment, Kaliantha said nothing.

She did not believe him.

Ulrich could tell.

But she also did not expose the weakness in his explanation. Perhaps because she knew he would not provide a better one. Perhaps because, for all his evasions, his actions had proven that he had been trying to protect her.

At last, she let out a faint breath.

"So Lord Rubenhart saw fit to dance with me as a last resort," she said. "To protect me, just in case."

Ulrich nodded.

"I am honored that Your Majesty interprets it so generously."

Kaliantha’s lips moved by the slightest degree.

It was not quite a smile.

"I admire the lengths you are willing to go to in order to protect your Queen."

Ulrich did not answer.

Then Kaliantha continued.

"I assume the unfortunate incident involving my husband, his inability to take part in the dance, was also your doing."

Ulrich paused.

Of course she had realized.

Antonias had arrived drunk, furious, and publicly humiliated. Louise had led him away. Then Ulrich had asked Kaliantha to dance, putting himself precisely where he needed to be when the barrier activated.

It was too coherent to overlook.

"I considered Your Majesty’s safety above all else," Ulrich said.

"And I am grateful for it," she replied.

Ulrich’s expression shifted slightly.

"Louise acted at my request," he said. "She has done nothing wrong."

He wanted that stated clearly.

Louise had not acted for amusement. She had not schemed against the King for personal gain. She had taken on a dangerous role because Ulrich had asked her to, and she should not bear the consequences alone if Kaliantha decided to investigate the night’s events.

"I assumed as much," Kaliantha said.

Her tone suggested that Louise’s role had been obvious to her from the beginning.

Then footsteps sounded in the corridor outside.

Several sets.

Light, hurried steps approaching the chamber door.

Kaliantha rose from the edge of the bed.

"We have other important matters to discuss," she said. "Recover properly, Lord Rubenhart. When you are able, join me."

Ulrich nodded.

"As Your Majesty commands."