The Villainess is the Villainess [Otome Isekai LitRPG]

Book 3: Chapter 5 - An Opportunity [Part 1]

- Sue Monk Kidd.

It was, by every sensible measure, a leisurely journey from Troyes back to bustling Meridian—one undertaken in an unassuming yet surprisingly comfortable hired carriage that rolled along the King’s Road with steady determination. Though the humble vehicle possessed none of the gilded trim, velvet upholstery, or cleverly concealed shock-dampening springs that distinguished Seraphina’s own lavish, custom-built coach, it sufficed for now.

Outside, the autumn sun filtered through a shifting tapestry of clouds, and at one point, Seraphina drew down the glass window with a gentle clack. The girl smelled the crisp breeze that tasted of distant harvests and carried the muted clatter of iron-shod wheels.

With the carriage curtains drawn aside, she amused herself by observing mile after mile of farmland sliding past—patchwork fields of wheat stubble, low stone walls patterned with saffron moss, and clusters of fruit trees sagging beneath ruby fruit. Each scene flitted by like panels in a slowly turning storybook, bright and self-contained, broken only by the occasional inn or church. The young noblewoman allowed herself to relax, resting a cheek upon her gloved knuckles as she considered the contrast between this peaceful roadway and the upheaval that had been her recent life.

Somewhere a few miles down the road, however, their progress hit a snag. The coachman pulled on the reins, and the carriage shuddered to a halt where a narrow bridge crossed a shallow stream. Ahead, a rickety farm cart lay on its side, one wheel spinning uselessly in the dust. A family of three—father, mother, and delicately freckled teenage daughter—scrambled to gather scattered burlap sacks of grain. The father kept glancing fearfully skyward, as though expecting talons or scaled wings to blot out the sun at any moment. News of flying monsters, it seemed at first glance, had traveled fast.

One of Seraphina’s Knights, riding escort behind the carriage, dismounted in a clatter of mail and stepped briskly forward—perhaps spurred less by chivalry than by the daughter’s good looks. His intent, no doubt, was to impress the damsel in distress with his gallant heart. Yet to the young noble woman’s discerning emerald eyes, the trio looked altogether too familiar. She could have sworn she had seen them in her previous life… The girl was sure that they were part of an ambush event that you could encounter when traveling the roads of the kingdom. Looking closely, she saw that their posture elicited instant suspicion—heads perpetually ducked, eyes darting and shifty.

Part of her almost wished to trigger the event… to see if the bandits would attack a group of heavily armed men. But if they were genuinely folk in need of help, it would delay her journey considerably. Another part of her was just tempted to have Cornelia eat them all and be done with it.

Before the Knight could extend a helping hand, Seraphina rapped twice against the carriage window before drawing it down.

Her voice carried crisply through the still air. “Frest.”

Sir Frest reined his horse alongside the window at once. “Yes, Lady Seraphina?”

“Call Sir Halden back to his saddle. We are not in the business of falling for so obvious a trap.” Her tone was mild as snow in the first hour, yet steel ran beneath. “A moment of ‘charitable stupidity’ may cost us dearly.”

“At once, milady, I was about to stop the fool myself. It is, as you have observed, quite the obvious ploy,” the former bandit answered.

A flush rose in Halden’s cheeks as Frest relayed the order. Muttering apologies, the Knight remounted. The “family” looked at them in disbelief as Seraphina offered them a weak wave from the window of the carriage.

Frest lingered a half-length from the window until they were out of sight.

The wind streamed through Seraphina’s golden hair, catching the sun and throwing off glints like fresh forged coin. She twined a stray lock around one finger.

“Where is Sir Gravens?” she asked, feigning offhand curiosity.

Frest’s visor clinked as he dipped his head. “I took the liberty, milady, of leaving him and the rest of your personal guard at the Academy. The young ladies under your protection might require more… immediate reassurance while you were busy. I trust the decision sits well with you?”

Her answering smile was small, tight, but genuine enough. “Quite well, Frest. Initiative deserves reward.”

He smiled as he saluted. Giving him a small nod, the young girl raised the window, shutting out road dust and further distraction.

***

The remainder of the ride passed in a hush of wheels, punctuated by the rhythmic snorts of the carriage team. Seraphina allowed her thoughts to slip free, drifting toward lighter thoughts. She felt that there was possibly a song that could be born from her recent travails. Perhaps, she mused, something about lost love and suffering. Onward. With each iteration of the new song she hummed, the knot of guilt loosened a fraction more until, by the time Meridian’s distant rooftops pierced the horizon, her mind lay smooth and untroubled.

The Academy City of Meridian itself—a center of commerce, scholarship—sprawled like a gleaming archipelago of marble islands connected by arched stone bridges and canals that glimmered beneath the late-season sun. Salt-laden breezes carried the mingled scents of the sea as slim barges and bright-sailed trading skiffs slipped through the waterways. Normally, the lagoon streets buzzed with ferrymen on their Serenelles barking for fares, and the general hustle of the citizenry; today, however, the plazas and canals alike felt greatly muted and hushed. Seraphina’s carriage crossed one of the broader bridges, wheels rattling over inset lapis mosaics, then followed a road to the Academy’s main gate, passing through and finally stopping in the mostly deserted courtyard beyond.

“Where is everyone?” she murmured, stepping lightly down from the vehicle. Her polished boots clicked on the flagstones.

Sir Frest shrugged beneath his cloak. “I don't quite rightly know, milady. Perhaps the Academy has been evacuated?”