Surviving As The Villainess's Attendant-Chapter 290: The Fan That Hides Blades

In the game, Alice had trusted the Crown Prince.

She had believed in the duty that came with noble blood, in the unspoken rules of the empire, and in the honor of her family above all else.

Too much, as it turned out.

That blind faith was why—when the situation finally spiraled out of control—she chose to erase the woman at the center of it all, accepting what she called "a little dishonor" as the lesser evil.

Just as Velra remembered.

Alice had convinced herself that once the obstacle was gone, the Crown Prince would return to his proper role. That duty would prevail. That the system would correct itself.

It was a foolish decision.

A tragically foolish one.

"My lady," I said quietly, breaking the silence, "you stand among the four highest noble ranks in the empire."

Alice stiffened slightly.

"The Crown Prince’s consort, and the Crown Prince himself..." I continued. "Even if they are members of the royal family, that does not mean your voice holds no weight."

She looked away.

If the Alice from the game had used even half of the authority her position granted her—if she had pushed back, argued, forced the issue—her fate would never have ended the way it did.

I reached into my coat and took out a small object, holding it out to her.

Alice’s eyes widened the moment she saw it.

"This is...!"

"The fan you entrusted to me during lunch," I said. "A noble lady’s essential accessory when attending a banquet."

The lacquered surface gleamed softly under the light. The hinge had been repaired perfectly, the delicate pattern restored as if it had never been damaged.

"When unfolded," I added, "it hides expressions. Depending on the design, it also announces status without a single word."

Her fingers closed around it carefully, almost reverently.

"The repair is complete," I went on. "There’s still time left in the banquet. Remember what I told you."

Alice hesitated.

"...Aren’t you coming with me?"

The question was quiet. Almost hopeful.

I shook my head.

"I’m only a servant," I replied, forcing a light tone. "And the third son of a baron, at that. I don’t have the standing to attend without an invitation."

She looked down at the fan, lips pressed tightly together.

For a moment, neither of us spoke.

As much as I wanted to go with her—to stand beside her, to steer the conversation, to pull her back if she faltered—I couldn’t.

There were things only I could do behind the scenes.

Things that didn’t belong under chandeliers and polite smiles.

"...Then," Alice said at last, lifting her gaze, "what should I do?"

I met her eyes.

"Don’t trust anyone blindly," I said. "Not the Crown Prince. Not the court. Not even your own assumptions."

She frowned slightly.

"And if I’m cornered?"

I smiled faintly.

"Then remember who you are. You are not a piece on their board—you’re one of the players. Use your rank. Use your silence. Use that fan."

I gestured toward it.

"Sometimes," I added, "saying nothing is louder than any accusation."

Alice inhaled slowly, steadying herself.

"...You’re different today," she said.

"Am I?"

"Yes," she replied. "It feels like you’re sending me off to battle."

I let out a quiet breath.

"Because you are."

She straightened her back, shoulders squaring as resolve settled into her posture.

"...I won’t repeat the same mistake," she said firmly.

Good.

That alone meant the future was already shifting.

As Alice turned toward the hall, I watched her go, the repaired fan resting in her hand like a hidden blade.

Only when she disappeared beyond the corridor did I murmur to myself—

"There are things I need to take care of."

Things the banquet would never see.

Things that could not be solved with polite smiles, raised glasses, or hollow congratulations.

And this time, I wouldn’t let history repeat itself.

Leaving Alice behind—still holding her fan, gaze unfocused as she sank into thought—I turned toward Velra.

She stood a step behind me, posture straight, expression composed, the faintest trace of amusement lingering in her eyes as if she already knew what I was about to ask.

"Lady Velra," I said quietly, keeping my voice low enough that it wouldn’t carry across the marble hall, "under our agreement... you can use magic here, correct?"

Velra inclined her head slightly.

"No issue. The restriction applies only within the Northern territories. Inside the Imperial Palace, my abilities are permitted."

That was—far better than I’d hoped.

"Good," I murmured. "Then I’d like to borrow some of your time."

She regarded me for a brief moment, golden eyes assessing—not dismissive, not mocking, but attentive.

"A request from my vassal," she said smoothly. "Of course. I shall indulge you."

I resisted the urge to correct that wording.

Arguing semantics with Velra never ended well.

The Imperial Palace loomed around us—vast, radiant, and impeccably guarded.

This was a place meant to inspire awe. A place where power was displayed openly, wrapped in silk and gold.

And that was precisely why it was dangerous.

’Coming here just to enjoy the banquet would be idiotic.’

This palace was a nest of ambition.

Every smile hid calculation.

Every toast concealed intent.

I could leave Alice to the nobles eager to ingratiate themselves with her—those desperate for favor, alliance, or proximity to the Draken name. I’d already given her clear warnings and instructions. She was more than capable of handling political pressure on her own.

What she needed now wasn’t protection.

It was someone working in the shadows.

I exhaled slowly, my thoughts sharpening.

"It’s time," I said, more to myself than to Velra, "to stop reacting and start moving first."

Velra walked beside me as we left the main hall, our footsteps echoing softly along the palace corridor.

"So," she asked, tone light, "are you finally returning to your true nature?"

I glanced at her. "And what do you think that is?"

"A schemer," she replied without hesitation. "A survivor. Someone who plans ten steps ahead while pretending to be two steps behind."

"...You make it sound worse than it is."

She smiled. "I assure you, I mean it as praise."

We stopped near a tall window overlooking the inner gardens, far from prying ears.

....And then I tell her my main objective