Memoirs of Your Local Small-time Villainess-Chapter 424 - Pulling back the tape

Skye stiffened in her seat opposite Evelyne, mouth twitching despite herself. “I thought we agreed to wait and deal with it as a group?”

The princess gave her a long look before sighing. “We did. But I assumed that was you being your usual self, keeping the rest of us busy while you went off to do something reckless on your own.”

“Wha—?” Skye started, then closed her mouth. She sat in silence for a few seconds before shaking her head. “No. I wouldn’t meet her without you. Honestly, I don’t want to. She creeps me out.”

Both of the princess’ brows lifted.

Skye glanced at Evelyne apologetically. “Sorry. No offence.”

“It’s…” Evelyne hesitated, suddenly acutely aware of the imperial presence in the room. “I-It’s alright. I’ve called my sister worse myself.”

It wasn’t that she hadn’t considered she might run into Her Highness, but she hadn’t been expecting it like this. She hadn’t expected Scarlett to allow them to roam the mansion freely. That realisation had only come when she encountered Skye.

This was Evelyne’s first direct interaction with the imperial family, and the fact that it followed so closely after Scarlett had fought the Princess—and violated several imperial laws—left an uncomfortable sheen of sweat at the back of her neck.

“Really?” Skye asked. “Like what?”

Evelyne blinked, only then realising what she’d admitted. “That’s…not something I should repeat here.” She glanced at Regina, her eyes widening slightly. “Y-Your Highness, would you like me to call for an attendant? I’m not certain if my sister—”

She trailed off as Regina’s gaze settled on her.

“…Your name is Evelyne, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” Evelyne said slowly.

“You don’t need to summon anyone. I’m perfectly fine as I am…and grateful for it, considering yesterday.” The princess shook her head. “And please don’t call me ‘Your Highness’. I’m not here in that capacity.”

“I couldn’t possibly—”

“Fancy breakfast before we do anything else?” Skye cut in, gesturing towards the table and the bowls of soup and bread.

Both Evelyne and the princess looked at her.

“…You never fail to make yourself at home, Skye,” the princess said dryly.

Skye chuckled, rubbing the back of her neck. “Trust me, I really don’t. But you should eat. They say breakfast is the most important meal of the day.”

“I have never heard anyone but you say that,” the princess replied, though she still crossed the hall.

Skye’s smile widened, a little crooked. “That’s fine. Pretty sure it isn’t even true. Still, free food is free food. Also, you’ve got to try this soup. I don’t know what kind of chemical, magic voodoo nonsense they’ve put in it, but it’s absolutely amazing.”

Chemical, magic voodoo?

Evelyne got caught on the odd phrasing, but her attention shifted as the Princess stopped beside Skye and glanced down at the bowl.

“Capon broth?” she asked, looking towards Garside.

“Yes, Miss,” Garside replied with a slight dip of his head.

“Capon?” Skye looked between them. “That’s, like…chicken, right?”

The princess glanced down at her, then let out a soft laugh. “Yes. Chicken.”

“Then it’s the best damn chicken I’ve ever had.” Skye lifted a spoonful.

Evelyne, meanwhile, found herself watching Garside with quiet disbelief, trying to reconcile how easily he addressed the First Princess without any title.

The elderly butler caught her look and offered a faint, understanding smile.

Evelyne turned back just as the princess took a seat beside Skye. Garside stepped forward, stopping behind her chair.

“If you would,” he murmured, and a plate of steaming soup and fresh bread appeared on the table. “Tea or coffee, Miss?”

The princess regarded the food with mild surprise before shaking her head. “No, thank you.”

Garside bowed before returning to his place by the wall.

The princess glanced sideways at Skye. “You’re not having any coffee?”

Skye’s spoon paused mid-air before continuing. “Huh? Coffee? No. Why would I? Doesn’t exactly go with chicken, you know.”

The princess’ eyes narrowed just a fraction. “When has that ever stopped you?”

Skye kept eating, eyes lowered. Eventually, she paused and sighed. “Okay, fine. I might’ve had a few cups too many yesterday. That butler over there just wouldn’t stop bringing it to me. Between that and everything else, sleeping was a nightmare. So I swore off coffee today. Cold turkey.”

“I see. I did think it unusual that you were awake this early,” the princess said.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Evelyne watched Skye with mild curiosity, briefly wondering whether her earlier explanation about waking early for her ‘friend’ had been entirely truthful. She soon dismissed the thought and turned her attention back to the princess.

The woman met her gaze, thoughtful. “You can sit, Lady Evelyne. I don’t mind.” 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝙚𝙬𝓮𝙗𝒏𝙤𝒗𝙚𝙡.𝒄𝒐𝓶

“Your Highness—”

“Please, just call me Regina.”

“I can’t—”

“You’re not going to make her any more comfortable with all the ‘Highness’ this and that,” Skye said, pointing her spoon at Evelyne. “And I definitely don’t mind. So unless you’ve got spies hidden around the mansion or the Baroness is secretly listening in, the only one who cares is you.”

The spoon hovered there, almost accusatory.

Evelyne stared at it, then met Skye’s steady gaze. The woman looked far too confident for someone sitting in the dining hall of a baronial estate she had helped assault the day before.

Evelyne decided not to mention that Scarlett very well could be listening, if she wished.

Skye’s earlier words about respecting the person rather than the crown surfaced again in her thoughts.

Evelyne had always believed she respected both. She had looked up to the First Princess as something to aspire to. They were not far apart in age, and the princess was widely known for her competence. Some nobles had even lamented that she wasn’t the heir. Not that long ago, Evelyne might have seen part of herself in that.

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Her gaze lingered on the princess. The woman met it with calm patience.

“If it would be acceptable, Your Highness,” Evelyne said carefully, choosing each word, “may I simply address you as ‘Princess’?”

The princess nodded. “That is entirely acceptable. If it makes you more comfortable, I would even say that it’s preferable. We are—” she paused briefly, as if searching for the word, “guests in your home, after all.”

Evelyne let out a breath she hadn’t realised she was holding, and returned to her seat. She rested her hands on the table, suddenly unsure what to do with them. Proper decorum dictated she wait for the princess to begin eating, but given the circumstances, it felt safer to abandon strict etiquette.

She picked up her spoon.

“If you ask me, just calling her Regina would’ve been easier for everyone,” Skye mumbled, scooping up another spoonful of her own. “But you do you, I guess.”

“Skye,” the princess said. “I think we are hardly in a position to criticise anyone’s behaviour here.”

Skye went quiet, a flicker of sheepishness crossing her face.

Evelyne watched the princess with quiet admiration. She…quite frankly had a hard time imagining herself maintaining such composure in her position. Given what Scarlett was capable of, caution—even fear—would have been entirely reasonable. Yet the princess showed none of it.

Was it a mask, honed over the years as a member of the imperial family, or was she truly that steady?

A small tension formed in Evelyne’s chest as the princess’ attention shifted back to her.

“You will have to forgive me for asking,” the princess said, “but your father was Baron Castor Hartford, was he not?”

Evelyne blinked, then nodded. “That’s correct.”

“I recall him being a rather accomplished mage?”

“He was.”

A faint smile touched Evelyne’s lips as memories of her father teaching her magic surfaced.

“Then was he the one who taught you and the Baroness magic?” the princess asked.

The question caught Evelyne off guard, but she recovered quickly. “He mainly taught me. Scarlett…never had much interest in learning.”

Skye gave her a skeptical look. “You’re kidding, right?”

Evelyne shook her head. “I’m not.”

The princess tore off a piece of bread, dipping it into her soup. “That aligns with what I had heard. There were those who claimed the Baroness was a moderately talented mage, but also rumours suggesting those accounts were exaggerated — that her younger sister possessed the greater talent.”

Evelyne stared at her. She wouldn’t have thought such details would be known at all within the imperial court. Even if they were familiar with her father’s and Scarlett’s names, keeping track of rumours surrounding a barony of their size was surprising.

“If you’re even more talented than her, does that make you some kind of super wizard?” Skye asked. “What can you do — rain meteoroids from the sky?”

Evelyne gave her a puzzled look.

“You mean meteors,” the princess said.

Skye looked to her. “What did I say?”

“Meteoroids.”

“That’s right, though, isn’t it?”

“No. That’s not a real word.”

A frown touched Skye’s brow. “That can’t be right.”

“Regardless,” the princess continued, “I suspect Lady Evelyne is not quite at the same level as the Baroness. Or am I mistaken?”

She regarded Evelyne with a measured, probing look.

Evelyne recognised it immediately. This wasn’t idle curiosity. The princess was trying to understand Scarlett — trying to get a clearer sense of what kind of person her sister really was.

For a moment, Evelyne considered deflecting. The safest approach would undoubtedly be to feign ignorance. To act as if she wasn’t involved in her sister’s affairs, or even aware of them. It would have aligned neatly with Scarlett’s longer-term plans, especially if anything ever happened to her and the barony passed on to Evelyne.

But Evelyne didn’t like that.

She didn’t like the idea of simply…leaving Scarlett to shoulder everything alone.

As strange as it still felt to admit, she liked who her sister had become. And she didn’t want their bond to exist only on paper, or out of obligation. So she wouldn’t pretend ignorance. She wouldn’t hide the things Scarlett herself wasn’t trying to hide.

The question then was how much Scarlett was willing to let the princess, Skye, and the others know — how much Scarlett expected Evelyne to say.

In the end, she suspected Scarlett would be fine with her sharing most things. If she hadn’t been, she wouldn’t have let these people walk the halls so freely in the first place.

And lying to an imperial princess was difficult.

“You aren’t wrong, Princess,” Evelyne said. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, gaze dropping briefly. “My sister is far beyond me now as a mage.”

She hadn’t seen Scarlett fully unleash her magic in person, but she had seen enough of her preposterous control—and heard enough of her accomplishments—to know the truth. Scarlett had surpassed their father. Easily.

Whether she rivalled their ancestor from that strange village Scarlett had once visited, or had gone even further than that, Evelyne honestly couldn’t say.

“Well…don’t beat yourself up too much about it,” Skye said casually. “She beat the crap out of all of us too.”

Evelyne glanced up at her. “So I’ve heard.”

“Mm.” Skye nodded. “Though she keeps leaving us a way out, which is just plain cree—” She stopped, cleared her throat, and corrected herself. “Weird. Plain weird.”

Evelyne raised an eyebrow. “My sister wouldn’t hurt you if she could avoid it. She is many things, but a monster isn’t one of them.”

At least she wasn’t any more. Evelyne chose to truly believe that.

“She wouldn’t hurt you without reason,” she added. “Especially not with the princess among your group.”

“You think so?” Skye gave her a doubtful look. “Because that’s not the vibe I got. Sure, she says as much, but when I talk to her, it feels like she’s looking down at an ant.”

“I can’t speak for all of Scarlett’s intentions,” Evelyne replied, “but I can say that much.”

“I don’t know…”

“I believe you,” the princess said, tearing off another piece of bread. “Though I’m not convinced my presence was the reason the Baroness showed us restraint. If anything, her attention seemed focused on Skye.”

Skye stiffened slightly.

Evelyne paused.

“Do you know why that might be?” the princess asked.

Evelyne studied her for a moment, then turned to Skye, her brow furrowing. “…No. I’m sorry, but I don’t.”

She knew there was something unusual about this group. Something unique that might have connected them to Fate, which explained Scarlett’s prior knowledge and earlier encounter with them. But her sister had never mentioned anything that singled Skye out in particular.

Was the princess testing her?

Skye shifted awkwardly in her seat, avoiding eye contact. That alone suggested there might be more to it than Evelyne knew.

The princess’ gaze lingered on her.

“Speaking of things the Baroness might be…attached to,” Skye said suddenly, clearly trying to change the subject, “do you know who Melody is?”

Evelyne relaxed slightly, following the shift. “Melody? I don’t recognise the name.”

“She’s one of our companions. She used to have some kind of connection to your sister. Robes. Bandages on her face and hands. I think she stayed here, upstairs.”

Evelyne frowned as the description clicked. “Oh. That woman.”

Skye’s gaze sharpened. “You know her?”

“I know of her,” Evelyne said. “Scarlett housed someone fitting that description here for a while last year.”

They were speaking of the woman Scarlett had once referred to as the Countess. Evelyne had never met her personally, but she remembered Scarlett asking about long-term care options for manic patients. Only later had she connected that conversation to the woman’s presence. At the time, she’d thought her sister might be losing her mind and was asking for herself.

Of course, looking back, one could argue that had not been entirely wrong. After all, Scarlett had used the Countess to break into the Sanctuary of Ittar.

Skye hesitated. “Do you know how long she stayed?”

“I don’t,” Evelyne admitted. “A few weeks, perhaps.”

“Then…” Skye’s voice dropped. “Did she…treat her well?”

Evelyne studied her. There was genuine concern there. Concern that stirred a quiet sense of guilt, knowing that Scarlett herself believed she had failed the Countess.

“You would have to ask her or my sister to know for certain,” Evelyne said, “but…from everything I understand, Scarlett did try to care for her.”

For reasons Evelyne couldn’t quite grasp, that answer only made Skye’s expression darken further.

A brief thump echoed through the dining hall, and both Skye and the princess glanced around, mildly confused.

Skye frowned. “Was that a…?”

The sound came again, softer this time. A moment later, a jet-black cat slipped out from beneath the table, tail held high as it padded across the floor and settled beside Garside, curling in on itself.

“Oh. My. God,” Skye breathed. “I love it.”

“Where did it come from…?” the princess muttered.

Evelyne watched as the cat’s amethyst eyes lifted lazily towards them.

“Hello, Empress,” she said.

The cat meowed in response, then turned her attention to the space just in front of her. Another meow followed, sharper somehow, and a small bowl of milk appeared on the floor. Empress inspected it, released a satisfied sound, and began lapping it up while Evelyne and Garside observed without comment.

Empress still appeared around the mansion from time to time. It wasn’t unusual for staff or Evelyne to spot her drifting through halls or the courtyard. For some reason, though, she rarely showed herself when Scarlett was present now.

“The cat’s name is Empress?” Skye asked. “Let me guess. Your sister named it.”

Empress paused mid-lick. Slowly, her head lifted, her gaze fixing on Skye.

Evelyne turned towards her. “Scarlett had nothing to do with it. This is only my impression, but I would be careful what you say around her.”

“And why’s that?” Skye grinned lightly. “You’re not going to tell me she—”

“Skye,” the princess interrupted, her eyes never leaving Empress. “Do you not remember what the bard said yesterday?”

Skye looked at her. “About what?”

“About their ‘resident cat’.”

“Hmm? Oh, right. She said something about it killing a—” Skye stopped, slowly turning back to Empress, her eyes widening. “Oh.”

Empress watched her without blinking.

“Oh,” Skye said again.

“Are you referring to the time an Ashenwraith dragon’s corpse appeared in our courtyard?” Evelyne asked.

Skye turned to stare at her. “…That was for real?”

Evelyne couldn’t quite suppress the small smile that tugged at her lips. This might well be the first time she found herself on the other end of one of Scarlett’s absurdities.

“Who knows?”

She suddenly understood why her sister seemed so fond of watching people react to them.