The Villainess Refuses to Follow the Script-Chapter 47

Beatrice excused herself from the dining hall, feigning the need for fresh air. In truth, she just wanted a moment to let the tension drain from her shoulders. Winning the verbal battle had been satisfying, but it had also been exhausting.

She stepped onto one of the palace balconies, the cool night air brushing against her skin. The sky was dark, speckled with stars, and for a moment, she allowed herself the rare luxury of silence.

Until footsteps echoed behind her.

Beatrice sighed. "You know, if you’ve come to tell me I should have kept my mouth shut, I’ll have to ignore you on principle."

Francois leaned against the stone railing beside her, gaze fixed on the courtyard below.

"I don’t recall saying anything."

"Yet." She smirked.

"You surprised them."

Beatrice exhaled. "Yes, well... I do love a good performance."

Francois turned his head slightly, his blue eyes searching hers.

"You weren’t performing."

Beatrice stilled. He said it so simply, like a fact he had just decided on. And that was the problem. Francois was starting to see too much.

She forced a chuckle, looking back at the gardens.

"Careful, my prince. People might start thinking you believe in me."

Francois didn’t answer immediately. But quietly, he replied. "Maybe I do."

Beatrice looked away. For a brief moment, she didn’t know how to respond.

But before she could say anything, another voice cut through the night.

"Ah. I was hoping to find you."

Beatrice turned, finding Gabriel De Silva standing in the archway, his usual charming smile firmly in place.

Francois’ expression cooled instantly.

Gabriel stepped forward, giving a respectful nod to the prince before his gaze flickered to Beatrice.

"You have a habit of making things interesting, Lady Beatrice."

She arched an eyebrow. "You say that like it’s a bad thing."

"On the contrary." Gabriel smiled. "I find it rather refreshing."

Francois’ jaw tightened ever so slightly.

She tilted her head, watching the two men carefully.

Oh. This just got interesting.

Beatrice’s gaze flickered between the two men, feeling the shift in the air. Francois wasn’t showing any obvious hostility. He was too controlled for that, but there was a sharpness in the way he held himself. A quiet tension in his posture.

Gabriel, on the other hand, seemed perfectly at ease, as if he hadn’t just walked into something unspoken. He was smiling, but his eyes were watchful and assessing.

Beatrice leaned against the railing, playing along. "I wasn’t aware you found me so fascinating, Lord Gabriel."

Gabriel chuckled. "Most people at court are predictable. You, however, are... unexpected."

Francois’ expression didn’t change, but Beatrice didn’t miss the way his fingers tapped once against the stone.

"I’ll take that as a compliment." She smirked.

Gabriel tilted his head slightly. "You should. After all, it’s not often that someone can hold their own against my mother and impress my father in the same evening."

Her smirk faltered. Impress?

That hadn’t been in the book. Lord De Silva was one of the most influential men in court, and in Johanna’s version of events, he had always dismissed Beatrice outright.

And now, suddenly, he was interested?

She hated how that made her stomach twist.

Beatrice kept her expression neutral, waving a hand.

"Oh, it was nothing. A simple discussion about economic reform and the future of the kingdom."

Gabriel’s gaze lingered on her, his amusement deepening.

"Then perhaps we should have more discussions, Lady Beatrice. I’d love to hear more of your thoughts."

Francois shifted beside her. It was subtle, barely noticeable, but Beatrice caught it.

Interesting.

She tapped a finger against her chin, pretending to consider it.

"You might regret that, Lord Gabriel. I do have many thoughts."

"I’m willing to take that risk." Gabriel grinned.

Before she could respond, Francois finally spoke.

"It’s late."

"So it is." Gabriel raised an eyebrow.

Francois’ gaze was steady. "Lady Beatrice has had a long evening. Perhaps it’s time she retired."

Her lips twitched. "How thoughtful of you, Your Highness."

Francois ignored her, his attention still on ther companion.

Gabriel chuckled, clearly amused. "Far be it from me to keep a lady from her rest." He took a step back, bowing slightly. "Until next time, Lady Beatrice."

She returned a polite nod, but her mind was already racing.

As Gabriel disappeared back into the palace, she turned to Francois, folding her arms.

"That was subtle."

"He has an agenda."

"And you don’t?" Beatrice arched an eyebrow.

Francois met her gaze, silent. She then smirked, wiggling her brows playfully at him.

"Honestly, Your Highness, if I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were jealous."

Francois glared at her. "I am not."

"That was very convincing."

He exhaled sharply. "Go to sleep, Lady Beatrice."

She smirked but didn’t argue, turning toward the palace doors.

"Goodnight, my prince."

She didn’t have to look back to know he was still watching her.

Beatrice walked through the dimly lit corridors of the palace, the soft glow of candlelight flickering along the stone walls. The evening had been long, filled with too many veiled words and too much scrutiny. She was eager to shut herself in her chambers and have a moment to breathe.

But as she turned down a quieter hallway, something felt off.

The hair on the back of her neck prickled. She wasn’t alone.

A shadow moved near one of the pillars, stepping into her path before she could react.

Lord Gabriel.

Her breath hitched. She hadn’t expected to see him again tonight. And certainly not here.

"My lord," she said cautiously, stopping in her tracks. "It’s rather late. I thought you have retired for the night?"

Gabriel smiled, but there was something different about it now. Something that made Beatrice’s stomach twist.

"I couldn’t help myself," he murmured, stepping closer. "You’re... quite fascinating, Lady Beatrice."

Her pulse quickened. Something was wrong.

"I appreciate the compliment," she said, keeping her voice even. "But I was just heading to my chambers."

Gabriel didn’t move aside. Instead, he tilted his head, studying her like she was something to be figured out.

"The way you spoke tonight..." His voice was low, smooth. "So clever. So different from what I expected."

Beatrice fought to keep her posture relaxed, despite the unease creeping in.

"People change."

"Yes. They do." His eyes darkened slightly.

He reached out. Too fast, fingertips barely brushing against her wrist before she yanked her arm back.

Beatrice’s heartbeat slammed against her ribs.

No! This wasn’t mentioned in the book.

She stepped back, her mind racing, her muscles tensing.

"I don’t think you understand, Lord Gabriel." Her voice remained cold, sharp. "You’re in my way."

Gabriel chuckled, but there was no warmth in it. "I wonder... if you’re as sharp-tongued behind closed doors as you are at court."

Panic threatened to claw its way up her throat, but she shoved it down. Think!

She had dealt with men like him before. But in the novel, Beatrice Da Ville had been untouchable. A nuisance, perhaps, but never a prey.

Gabriel took another step forward, and Beatrice took another step back.

Her pulse roared in her ears.

Then...

A voice cut through the hallway.

"Step away from her."

Beatrice barely had time to breathe before she saw him.

Francois. Standing at the other end of the corridor, his expression utterly unreadable.

Gabriel froze.

The prince took a single step forward.

Beatrice didn’t dare move.

But she knew. She knew.

Something had just shifted.