[V3C9] Villainess Level 1

Mary Harvey the Starseer Witch, the organizer of today’s party, leaned against the sofa in her private room, gazing dreamily at the sky.

Rather than the stars, her light blue eyes reflected the winter blue sky.

Even though she couldn’t see the stars during the day, it seemed to be a habit for a star reader like her to constantly gaze outside like this.

While contemplating this, Isaac Walker, the guest summoned to her private room, asked the Starseer Witch, “Lady Harvey, may I inquire as to why you summoned me?”

The Starseer Witch, slowly redirecting her gaze, turned to Isaac with eyes that seemed unfocused, as if she were half-asleep.

Her moist lips parted, and she spoke in a gentle voice.

“I read your star… the star which once tried to become a false star.”

Upon hearing the implication at his identity, Isaac wasn’t particularly surprised. The Starseer Witch was the eldest of the Seven Sages and a direct advisor to the King. It wouldn’t be strange for her to know Isaac’s true identity.

As Isaac remained silent, Mary tilted her head slightly, putting on a faint smile.

Her long, flowing silver hair swayed gently, cascading down from the sofa.

“You were born under the star of loss. Despite being blessed with overwhelming talent… nothing precious remains in your hands.”

All emotion vanished from Isaac’s face.

The words of the Starseer Witch were accurate.

Isaac Walker had already lost both parents, his young brother, and the master he swore loyalty to, who was also his best friend… And finally, he lost his own name and face.

What remained was the remnants of a ghost who had lost even its own delusions.

However, Isaac did not agree that he had nothing left in his hands.

When he was condemned to execution, there was someone who reached out a helping hand.

Even after losing so much, one little witch extended her hand to Isaac, and allowed him to stay by her side.

As Isaac envisioned that innocent smiling girl, the Starseer Witch continued with a sorrowful expression.

“I, Starseer Witch Mary Harvey, shall foretell your future. False prince, born under the star of loss… your losses will never end.”

The foremost prophet of the country so declared the cruel future that awaited Isaac Walker.

“——Sooner or later, you will lose half of the world before you.”

＊　＊　＊

Isaac’s steps were heavy as he left the private room.

He knew no matter how talented he was or how desperately he struggled, there were countless things that wouldn’t go his way.

(…The star of loss, huh.)

The Starseer Witch was exactly right. No matter how tightly he clung to the things precious to him, they always slipped through his fingers and spilled away.

His parents died to the dragons, his brother died in his hands, and his friend died falling off a roof.

Isaac refused to lose anything more, but if what the Starseer Witch said was true, his losses would continue.

——You don’t need a reason to help a friend, Ike!

At times like these, the girl who had saved him always popped into his mind. Isaac wanted to protect her, however, a fated loss awaited him in the future.

(…Should I keep my distance? But what if something happens to Monica where I can’t see…?)

Those ordinary tragedies always happen suddenly one day.

Should he maintain his distance, or to be more vigilant than ever to keep danger at bay? Isaac pondered his options. Since he didn’t know what the correct course of action was, there was no strategy to employ.

Dragging his heavy feet, Isaac eventually arrived at the party venue. Honestly, he wasn’t in the mood to participate in the party, but as an invited guest, he felt he should at least perform the minimum courtesies.

Suppressing a sigh, Isaac approached the door and noticed three men huddled near it, peering into the party venue.

Isaac recognized the faces of those three.

Raul Roseberg the Thorn Witch. Ray Albright the Abyss Shaman. And finally, Cyril Ashley.

“What are you doing in a place like this?”

Isaac inquired, and the three turned around abruptly, staring at Isaac.

The Abyss Shaman immediately collapsed to his knees, contorting his face as if he had witnessed insurmountable despair.

“Oh, this is the worst… Another handsome guy has shown up. Whether I turn right or left, it’s just all handsome faces. Where am I supposed to look then? Maybe I should just live looking down at the ground forever…”

Isaac turned to Cyril seeking an explanation, but he too wore an expression of anguish.

“Your Highness, there’s a deep reason for this… No, no. I can’t lie to you… I’m sorry, there’s no deep reason at all. There’s absolutely nothing deep about it! Rather, it’s too shallow, and the circumstances are completely ridiculous…!”

It seemed Cyril hesitated to explain these so-called “ridiculous circumstances.”

Isaac finally turned to the Thorn Witch, who responded in a cheerful tone.

“Hey, Your Highness, don’t bother us right now. Monica is doing her best.”

“…Monica?”

Isaac turned his gaze to the party venue. Since there were relatively few young female guests today, he quickly managed to spot Monica’s figure.

Monica was walking through the venue with unsteady steps, the hem of her bright red dress trailing behind her.

(That dress… It’s not the one from Miss Colette.)

Without even getting into the color and design, the size didn’t fit Monica at all. She was clearly dragging the skirt’s hem, and the shoulder straps were sagging.

What on earth was Monica being made to do? Since no one else would explain, the best course of action was to ask her directly.

As Isaac stepped into the party venue, about to head towards Monica, someone clung to his waist. It was the Abyss Shaman.

With disheveled purple hair and sparkling pink eyes, Ray groaned with a desperate plea.

“Stop it… I can’t let a handsome guy like you enter the party venue. And, moreover, a prince. Girls like princes, right? All of them do. That’s how it is, isn’t it? Damn it, if it comes to this, I’ll cast a curse that turns all princes into pigs when they step into the party venue…”

The Abyss Shaman was mumbling something outrageous.

While observing him with a cold gaze, Isaac calmly considered accusing him of disrespect.

＊　＊　＊

Dragging the bright red dress along the floor, Monica searched for Ray’s fiancé.

Although Ray seemed unaware of his fiancé’s face and name, Raul had looked it up in advance.

Ray’s fiancé was Frieda Blanquet. She was a tall woman with a distinctly imperial appearance.

(Oh, there she is…!)

It didn’t take long to spot Frieda.

She was wearing a modest dark green dress and had short blonde hair.

There was no one with her, so now seemed like the perfect chance to approach her.

Monica repeated a few deep breaths, confirming what she needed to do.

As the villainess, Monica had to bully Frieda. By tormenting the distressed Frieda and having Ray come to her rescue, she would make Ray appear cool.

(But how do I bully her…? W-What should I do…?)

Monica had been a victim of bullying since childhood, so she had no shortage of nasty memories. However, whether she could replicate that herself was another matter entirely.

(At times like this, oh right… Let’s refer to Isabelle-sama.)

Back when they were at Serendia Academy, Isabelle had explained to Monica in detail about what it meant to be a villainess.

…Thinking about it that way, all of her villainess knowledge was (probably) building up to this very moment.

(It’s okay, I can do it. I can do it.)

Encouraging herself, Monica exhaled sharply and took a step forward…

“Gya!?”

And she accidentally tripped on the hem of her dress and nearly fell.

However, someone’s arms quickly propped up Monica’s falling body.

“Are you okay?”

The person who supported Monica was none other than her target, Frieda.

“Oh, t-thank you!”

After bowing her head repeatedly to express gratitude, Monica wiped off her cold sweat.

Now what? She had been foiled right from the start.

(It’s, it’s okay. I can still recover… I hope!)

Monica straightened her posture and faced Frieda.

Frieda Blanquet was much taller than Monica. The petite Monica had to look up at her when speaking.

“Um, excuse me!”

“Yes?”

“H-Hello…”

“Yes, hello.”

First, she cleared the initial hurdle of greetings. Saying “hello” was the most basic greeting for young ladies.

Just being able to say that made Monica feel like she had grown a little.

The etiquette she had studied at Serendia Academy was not in vain. Monica secretly savored a sense of accomplishment.

(T-The next step… um… What would a villainess do…?)

Monica recalled Isabelle’s lessons on villainesses.

(T-That’s right, cover my mouth with a fan and laugh maliciously…!)

It might be challenging to perform a high-pitched laugh like Isabelle’s, but simply covering her mouth with a fan and laughing seemed well within Monica’s reach.

Monica fumbled with the unfamiliar fan, covering her mouth, and then…

“Fufu… ehe…”

Pasting a forced smile on her face, Monica awkwardly laughed.

It was undoubtedly unnatural to anyone who looked, and it fell far short of malicious laughter.

…However, Monica was cheering internally.

(Yes! I did it! Right now, I looked really, truly like a villainess! I seemed mean!)

While Monica was fidgeting with her mouth behind the fan, Frieda continued to gaze at her.

Having come up with an idea, Frieda replied, “Could it be that you’re not feeling well?”

“…Eh!?”

Monica broke into a cold sweat. This was a completely unexpected response.

(W-W-What now? What should I say? What would Isabelle-sama do in this situation!?)

As Monica blushed and trembled, unsure of how to respond, Frieda approached her and reached out.

“I apologize in advance.”

“Eh!?”

With surprisingly natural movements, Frieda lifted Monica into her arms. Then, she called out to a nearby servant.

“There’s someone not feeling well. Is there any place where I can let her rest?”

Though slightly taken aback, the servant quickly led Frieda out of the room.

Despite cradling Monica effortlessly in her arms, Frieda walked through the party venue with confident steps.

The novice villainess found herself being carried by the target. All she could do was clutch her fan and flutter her limbs anxiously.

(Abyss Shaman-sama, I’m so sorryyyyy!)

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