Chapter 12

The Villainess’s Theory of Happiness

“There’s going to be a banquet?”

At Lemon’s question, I quickly softened my stiff expression. I didn’t want to look grim in front of the children.

“Yes.”

At my answer, Lemon’s eyes sparkled. After a moment of hesitation, she asked cautiously,

“May I attend too?”

What did she mean by that? I tilted my head. It was the Duke’s family hosting the banquet—of course the children would attend.
Wait. Don’t tell me… Varidas didn’t even let them go to the family’s own banquets?

Something inside me boiled. I suppressed it and gently stroked Lemon’s cheek.

“Of course you should come.”

Wow. So this guardian of theirs was that awful. I frowned at the thought.

“I want to go too!”

Ren shouted, and Green and Jasmine followed suit. I told them all yes, and their faces lit up with bright smiles.

Watching the children’s happiness made me smile warmly.

After chattering for a while about the upcoming banquet, the children left for their study time. I, having tired myself out playing with them, sat down on my bed to rest.

But… can I really bring them to the banquet?

Come to think of it, the one hosting it was Varidas. No matter what I said about bringing the kids, if the Duke himself didn’t allow it, it meant nothing.

I should probably ask for permission.

Having made up my mind, I jumped off the bed. As they say, strike while the iron’s hot!

So off I go!

Before leaving my room, I popped a piece of chocolate into my mouth. Sweetness spread across my tongue, lifting my mood. I strolled leisurely through the Duke’s mansion, savoring it.

According to the original novel, he spent nearly all his time in his study when not training.

So I wandered around, looking for it.

Where was Varidas’s office again? I vaguely remembered it being on the same floor as my room… but I hadn’t paid much attention when they told me.

Why is this mansion unnecessarily huge?

Grumbling, I walked aimlessly until I somehow ended up back in front of my own door.

Fantastic. Full circle.

To make matters worse, I hadn’t run into a single servant along the way—so I couldn’t even ask for directions.

Exhausted and annoyed, I finally yanked open the door right next to mine in frustration. The moment I did, a cool, clean scent hit me—sharp and refreshing enough to clear my head.

Mint? Peppermint?

Come to think of it, the novel did say Varidas’s room always smelled of mint.

Only then did I realize—oh. His room was right next to mine.

So I’d just walked around the whole mansion for nothing. Great.

…Was he not here?

I looked around casually, then cautiously sat down in the chair at the center of the room.

Was it rude to just sit here uninvited?

Well, we lived in the same house. Waiting in his office wasn’t that disrespectful… right?

I made myself comfortable and started looking around properly.

His room was about the same size as mine but felt much more understated. Where my room was adorned with luxurious decorations, his was filled with elegant, refined pieces instead.

As I finished looking around, I found myself staring blankly out the open window. Warm sunlight and a gentle breeze flowed in.

Leaning back in the chair, I began to nod off.

I didn’t know how much time had passed when the soft rustling of papers woke me.

Blinking against the bright light, I rubbed my eyes a few times before I could focus properly.

There—right in front of me—was Varidas, flipping through documents.

Oh no. I’d fallen asleep. In his room.

I jumped up so fast that something slipped off and hit the floor with a soft thud. Looking down, I saw a black overcoat.

My eyes widened, darting between the coat and Varidas.

He must’ve heard it fall, because he was already looking at me—and then, without a word, he walked over.

He knelt down, picked up the coat, and dusted it off.

My face was burning with embarrassment. Who just waltzes into someone’s room, falls asleep, and wakes up like nothing happened?

“I’m… sorry.”

I hadn’t felt this mortified in years.

But Varidas didn’t seem particularly bothered. He simply draped the coat back over my shoulders and sank casually into the chair across from me.

Wow. So this is what a romance novel male lead is like. That effortless gentleness—no wonder readers swoon.

“It’s fine. But next time, perhaps give me a bit of warning before you visit.”

At his mildly amused tone, my embarrassment returned full force. I nodded meekly.

“So, what brings you here?”

Oh—right. I had a reason for coming.

I hesitated, watching his expression carefully before speaking.

“I wanted to ask… would it be alright to bring the children to the banquet?”

I gave him my most pleading, pitiful look. He, on the other hand, looked puzzled—as if wondering why I was even asking him this.

With a quiet sigh, he asked,

“Did the children say they wanted to go?”

Wait—was he about to say yes?

“Yes!”

My overly enthusiastic reply seemed to startle him.

“They didn’t… trouble you by insisting, did they?”

Oh, wow. He actually said “thee.” So dramatic. Does he talk like this all the time? I almost laughed but quickly denied it.

“Not at all!”

My voice was full of conviction. I would take those kids, no matter what.

Varidas sighed, thinking for a moment before speaking again.

“You do realize the children haven’t had their debutante, correct?”

…Their what now?

I’d only ever read one romance fantasy novel before, and barely at that. I had no idea what he was talking about.

Still, I couldn’t admit that, so I answered confidently,

“…Of course!”

He clearly saw through me. With another sigh, he explained,

“Unlike Damon, here one may not attend social gatherings until reaching adulthood. The debutante is the first ball one attends as an adult.”

Oh. So in other words—the children can’t go.

I felt guilty for getting their hopes up. My face fell.

“…However, if it is the host’s family or by the host’s permission, young children may attend.”

At that, I beamed.

So he’s not as bad as I thought. Though really, why did he have to go through all that dramatic buildup just to say yes?

“Then, may I bring them?”

He chuckled softly and nodded.

“The banquet’s for you, after all. Do as you like.”

Wait—for me?

I had suspected as much, but hearing him say it outright made my chest tighten oddly.

Well, whatever. I got permission—that’s what matters.

“Thank you!”

I gave him a bright smile filled with every possible meaning, and he nodded once in response.

After Fiora left, Varidas sat quietly, sorting through his documents.

Soon Crimson entered, carrying his favorite tea.

Catching sight of him, Varidas asked,

“What do you think of the princess?”

Crimson blinked. His master showing interest in anyone was rare.

He thought for a moment before replying,

“She doesn’t seem like a bad person, my lord. The young masters and ladies seem quite fond of her as well.”

Fiora—who had managed to calm all the children with just a few words—had practically been a savior to Crimson, who had struggled for years with their unruly behavior.

For many reasons, he found her likable. But Varidas’s next words made his eyes widen.

“She asked to bring the children to the banquet.”

Crimson hesitated. He had noticed Fiora’s affection for the children, but still… this was surprising.

After all, the children and her potential child could one day be rivals for succession within the duchy.

Even if she adored them now, politics could turn affection into enmity.

It didn’t make sense to him. Why involve them at all?

Sensing his confusion, Varidas asked calmly,

“What do you think?”

“…She seems good with the children, my lord.”

Crimson explained how Fiora had quieted them so effortlessly.

Varidas’s brow lifted, intrigued.

He knew well that his siblings never listened to anyone.

Even the more well-behaved ones—Toma and Ren—had needed private tutors by special request. As for the twins, they had already gone through more than twenty governesses and tutors.

But Fiora had managed to win all their hearts in just a few days?

Impressive.

Whether her behavior was sincere or calculated, there was no denying her skill with them.

He had heard the rumors about her, of course—

Beautiful, intelligent, but cruel and merciless.
The Imperial Flower of Thorns.

If her sweetness was just an act, that nickname suited her perfectly.
Still, rumors were only rumors—and Varidas didn’t think she was lying.

Even so… just in case, he decided, he would watch her a little longer.

“I see. You may go.”

Crimson bowed and exited the room. Once alone again, Varidas turned his attention back to the papers on his desk.

Then, from the window Crimson had forgotten to close, lively voices drifted in.

He stood and looked outside.

There, in the sunset-lit garden, Fiora was playing with the children, laughter echoing through the warm light.

A faint smile touched his lips.

“…I hope none of you grow up to resemble me—or her.”

His quiet, melancholy words disappeared into the fading orange sky, unheard by anyone.