The Villainess is the Villainess [Otome Isekai LitRPG]

Book 3: Chapter 7 - The Price of Progress [Part 1]

- Frederick Douglass.

Seraphina drained the last of her flagon, the dwarven brew thick and earthy on her tongue. It was a strange thing, this ale fermented from mushrooms rather than grain, with an umami undernote that lingered like damp stone after rain. She held the empty vessel aloft a moment, considering its foreign strength. It went down easier than expected. It was, she concluded, very drinkable.

“And how am I to be of service, Master Goldsmith?” she asked, her voice cool and reserved, but not unkind.

The dwarf across from her shifted on his bench. This close, Seraphina could see that he really was rather thick about the middle, with beard-braids tangled by nervous hands and eyes that hadn’t seen proper sleep in some time.

“Well, there’s the matter of the forest, milady… and what lies within it.” He scratched at the side of his nose. “Every time we go in, we come back out again. Empty-handed. And… changed.”

Seraphina arched an elegant eyebrow. “Changed how?”

He looked away. “The dreams,” he muttered. “They come when the sun sets an’ we close our eyes. Strange things. Twisted things. Dreams that cling to a man like cobwebs, even long after waking. Nightmares, if I’m honest. And they feel… real. Not all of us are made of the Stone, milady. Some have gone back to Bronzegate already. What with the forest not being easy and the dreams chewing at our wits, prospecting’s proving difficult.”

Seraphina’s emerald eyes gleamed, cold and sharp as polished jade. She set her flagon down with a dull thunk.

“I believe I made myself plain in my letters, did I not? You would be crossing into the dominion of your ancient enemies. I said so in no uncertain terms. If you wished to claim the treasures beneath the soil, you would first have to drive the Fae from it.”

The dwarf flushed. “Aye, my lady. That’s true. You did warn us. But it’s been… gods, hundreds of years by your kind’s reckoning. We haven’t seen a true Fae in generations. Most of us thought it was old Greybeard tales… no more.”

Her lips thinned. “So, you thought me a liar.”

“No!” he blurted, hands up as if to ward off a blow. “No, never! Earthmother shield me, no. Only… we thought you might be mistaken, is all. We were grateful just to have a place to go, away from the Holds.”

Seraphina did not speak at once. She let the silence weigh on him, a pause heavy enough to draw sweat to the dwarf’s brow.

“Then tell me, clearly, how I may help you.”

Tam, seated farther down the table, cleared his throat. “Lady Seraphina, if I may—Gallenflux over there…” he nodded to a stout fellow three seats away, who dipped his head at the sound of his name, “...he brought a few old tomes. Belonged to his grandfather. Smithing manuals mostly, but there was something odd in one of them. Mentions of the Fae. And a few runes. Basic wards.”

She took a small nibble of a piece of something she had forgotten the name of. “Please, go on.”

“Well, with a bit of study, we think we might be able to craft weapons that’ll sting the bastards—if they are Fae, which seems likely now. But the problem is… we can’t bloody well see them.”

Seraphina reclined slightly, one pale hand stroking the coils of her serpent as it slithered lazily across her lap. “Then cut down the trees. Rip out their homes. I gave you leave to harvest them, did I not? Ten percent tithe on sold lumber, five if used for Undertown’s construction.”

Tam sighed. “We tried. Soon as the axe bites bark, the cutter forgets what he’s doing. Next thing he knows, he’s in Undertown again, axe in hand, dazed. We think it’s illusions. Glamours.”

He paused, scratching behind his ear as if unsure of his next words. “But there may still be hope. In those same manuals, there’s mention of a ‘Barrier of the Song of the Lost.’ Seems like the forest is warded with it. If we had someone who could counter that… a singer who can sing their tune, maybe, or someone with the knack…”

“A common Bard?” Seraphina asked with a crooked smile. “A fiddler to charm the woods? Why haven’t you hired one already? They are as common as the wheat in the fields.”

Mention of Bards made Seraphina think that perhaps she might have been forgetting somebody.

“We thought of that, milady. But none so far have been able to break the barrier… just like singing at trees, and there was nothing different.”

She nodded once, plucking a sliver of roasted meat from the platter before her and holding it up to her serpent, who snapped it up greedily.

“Very well. I’ll see what can be done. In the morning.” She gave a soft chuckle. “It would be foolish to challenge the Fae’s claim by night.”

To her, the agreement was a simple one. An easy promise. For Seraphina de Sariens, heir to the Duchy, already knew the nature of the Fae’s barrier.