Verena calmly set down her fork. She wiped her mouth delicately with a napkin, then looked up at Penelope with the expression of a woman who had just decided to be a nace.
"You know, Princess," she said sweetly, "I've been testing my magic lately."
Penelope scoffed. "And?"
Verena smiled.
And then, with the slightest flick of her fingers, she tapped into her Zodiac Threads.
Penelope's teacup, which she had so gracefully used to drench Evelyn, suddenly jerked. It launched itself out of her hand and overturned... right onto her own pristine, custom-tailored dress.
"Oh no, Princess. You should really be more careful with your own clumsiness."
"You—!"
But Verena wasn't done.
She shifted her magic again, weaving a subtle Action Inducent. Just a little nudge.
One of Penelope's lackeys, confused by the sudden chaos, flinched—and in doing so, "accidentally" swung her own forkful of pudding straight into Penelope's hair.
It stuck.
The princess froze.
The silence was deafening.
Verena humd. "Huh. That really is unfortunate."
Penelope was shaking. "YOU—!!"
But before she could explode, Verena delivered the final blow: she gently, gently tapped her power one last ti.
And suddenly, Penelope's foot slipped.
Her dramatic, rage-filled stance beca an ungraceful stumble—straight into the fountain behind her.
SPLASH!
The entire garden went silent.
Penelope surfaced from the water, looking like a drowned, humiliated cat. Her lackeys scrambled to help her, but Verena just smiled and took another bite of her al.
Revenge was sweet.
Just like the pudding still stuck in the princess's hair.
Penelope had all the depth of a puddle.
She was the textbook definition of a haughty noble villainess.
Blonde, spoiled, and clinging to the rules like a drowning rat to a floating piece of wood.
The only problem was that she didn't actually have anyone powerful backing her. No secret benefactors. No grand political sches. Just pure, concentrated entitlent.
Which ant she stood no chance against Verena.
"This is ridiculous!" Penelope screeched, soaking wet and humiliated.
Then, with a furious stomp of her foot, she turned on her heel and stord off, her lackeys scrambling behind her.
It's a sha because she had to admit that Penelope was part of the reason she realized she liked won.
Sothing about a villainess throwing tantrums over nonsense had always been weirdly endearing to her.
Maybe it was the dramatics. Maybe it was the entitlent. Maybe it was just the pathetic charm of it all.
Either way, she had a type. In fiction, of course.
She barely had a real life crush back in her previous life.
The mood lightened, the three of them sitting together in easy amusent. But then, as Verena leaned in slightly to steal a bit of Beatrice's untouched dessert, sothing changed.
Evelyn's laughter stopped.
"Want to co over again?" Beatrice asked casually.
"Of course. At this point, it's practically tradition. I get sick, and you nurse back to health," Verena said with a smirk.
Evelyn stiffened. "Y-You... go to Lady Beatrice's place often?"
Verena nodded. "Mhm! As much as I hate to admit it, this girl's been a huge help."
"I-I see..." Evelyn murmured, gripping her skirt a little tighter.
Reviews
All reviews (0)