The Villainess Refuses to Follow the Script-Chapter 46

The dining hall was lavish, as always. A long banquet table stretched between them, adorned with silver candelabras and the finest tableware, the light from the chandeliers casting a golden glow over the assembled guests.

Beatrice had been in enough formal meals to know how this would go. The De Silvas would smile, speak in measured tones, and lace every word with something sharper beneath the surface.

And she was right.

Lady De Silva had been on the attack from the moment the first course was served.

"It’s quite surprising, truly," the noblewoman said, swirling the wine in her glass. "For someone who was never particularly interested in politics before, you seem to have become quite... involved in court matters as of late, Lady Beatrice."

Beatrice lifted her own glass, taking a delicate sip before responding.

"Well, Lady De Silva, I’ve always believed one should adapt to their circumstances." She smiled, as if sharing a secret. "After all, knowledge is power. Wouldn’t you agree?"

Lady De Silva’s eyes flickered, momentarily thrown off by the response.

Beatrice hid a smirk behind her glass. Nice try.

Lord De Silva, seated beside his wife, chuckled. "That is a rather pragmatic approach. And tell me, Lady Beatrice, what new knowledge have you acquired in these recent months?"

Beatrice barely had to think about it.

"Oh, quite a few things. I’ve been particularly fascinated by economic structures lately. Trade routes, taxation efficiency, manufacturing improvements." She gestured lightly. "For instance, I read about an approach that would allow for more efficient production of textiles by adjusting the loom’s threading system. Simple, but effective."

Silence lorded the dining area for a moment. Beatrice could practically hear the gears turning in the nobles’ minds.

Across the table, Johanna looked mildly impressed. Lila looked like she wanted to kick Beatrice under the table just for the fun of it.

Lady De Silva, however, recovered quickly.

"How... interesting," she said, though her tone was anything but. "And where exactly did you come across such ideas?"

Beatrice smiled sweetly. "Oh, here and there."

"Here and there," Lady De Silva repeated, clearly unsatisfied.

Beatrice tilted her head. "Would you like me to explain the threading system in more detail, my lady? I’d be happy to draw up some notes."

Across the table, Francois actually put down his glass.

Lady De Silva’s expression twitched. "That won’t be necessary."

Pity.

Gabriel De Silva, on the other hand, looked entirely amused.

"I must say, Lady Beatrice, you’ve certainly changed. It’s rare to see such... innovation in court."

"I do try to be entertaining." Beatrice smiled.

Lord De Silva let out another low chuckle. "That is one word for it."

The conversation moved on, but the shift was clear. Beatrice had passed whatever test they were trying to put her through, and she had done it without breaking a sweat.

And judging by the way Francois was watching her now, she had also caught the attention of someone she hadn’t meant to.

Lovely!

Beatrice leaned back slightly in her chair, fingers tracing the stem of her glass. The room was still adjusting to the shift she had created, the weight of her words lingering like an echo.

She knew this scene. She had read this exact moment in the novel.

In Johanna’s version of events, Lady De Silva had ripped Beatrice apart with carefully crafted insults. Mocking her lack of political knowledge, belittling her failed courtship attempts, and subtly reminding everyone why Beatrice Da Ville was seen as little more than an entitled, overreaching noblewoman.

In the book, Beatrice had sat there, tense and humiliated, unable to fight back because she had never bothered to learn.

But this time?

This time, she wasn’t that Beatrice.

"Tell me," Lady De Silva continued, clearly trying to regain control of the conversation. "You speak of efficiency, Lady Beatrice. But don’t you think such changes would be... disruptive? The weaving guilds have followed the same methods for generations."

"Oh, of course. Change is always disruptive. But then again, isn’t stagnation just as dangerous?" She tilted her head, as if she were genuinely curious. "Surely, a few small adjustments to improve productivity would be more beneficial than resisting innovation entirely."

"A bold stance." Lady De Silva’s smile tightened.

Beatrice wasn’t done.

"Take water distribution, for example," she continued smoothly. "If aqueducts and waterwheels were strategically placed to assist with irrigation, the kingdom’s agriculture could see an increase in crop yields. Farmers wouldn’t have to rely solely on rain cycles. And imagine how useful that could be during periods of drought."

Johanna’s lips parted slightly in surprise. Lila looked personally offended that Beatrice had this much knowledge stored in her head.

And Francois...

He was watching her with that unreadable expression again.

Beatrice pressed on, lifting her teacup as she spoke.

"Or consider sanitation in the city. Public bathhouses are common in some territories, but they’re rarely managed efficiently in ours. If proper drainage systems were expanded, it would improve overall hygiene and reduce illness among the lower districts. Cleaner streets, healthier people, less risk of widespread disease."

She took a sip of her tea. Lady De Silva blinked.

Gabriel, the one nobleman at the table who actually seemed genuinely intrigued, leaned forward slightly.

"That’s... an interesting perspective, Lady Beatrice. And have you always taken such interest in these matters?"

Beatrice set her teacup down with a small clink. "Let’s just say I’ve been paying more attention lately."

Lady De Silva’s expression was still unreadable, but the subtle shift in her posture told Beatrice everything she needed to know. The older woman had come to this meal expecting to put her in her place.

Instead, Beatrice had done what no one anticipated.

She had won. And she had done it effortlessly.

Across the table, Francois finally spoke. His voice was calm, measured.

"You’ve clearly been giving this a great deal of thought."

Beatrice met his gaze, matching his neutrality. "I have been told I have a habit of overthinking things."

"Indeed." Francois didn’t look away.

Lady De Silva cleared her throat, shifting the topic to something more neutral, but Beatrice knew.

This wasn’t how the scene was supposed to go. She had rewritten it.

Again.