I, The Villainess, Will Seduce All The Heroines Instead-Chapter 36: Cleaning Duty (1)

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Raphael and Beatrice had visited earlier, but as dawn broke, it was time for Verena to return to her dorm.

Unfortunately, that meant one thing - her roommate had been summoned to escort her back.

Sera stood in the doorway of the clinic, arms crossed, face twisted in an expression of sheer, unfiltered disgust.

"I can't believe this," she muttered. "Out of all the people in this academy, I have to be the one to drag your half-dead body back to the dorm?"

"Good afternoon to you too, dear roommate."

"Don't 'dear roommate' me! Do you know how humiliating it is to be woken up at dawn and told, 'Oh, Lady Verena needs assistance' like I'm some kind of personal servant?!"

Verena gasped dramatically. "It must be so difficult being you, having to endure the great tragedy of helping a wounded, helpless young lady such as myself."

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"Helpless? Please. You're a cockroach. You'll survive anything. If anything, I should be worried about catching whatever pathetic affliction put you in this bed."

Verena had to admit that Sera's comebacks were almost impressive.

There was a sharp wit behind them, which explained why, in the novel, she had nearly gotten herself killed multiple times.

A creative insult was all well and good until it was aimed at someone with a sword.

"Fine, you got me," Verena conceded, raising her hands in surrender.

But when they finally arrived at the dormitory, they were met with an unfortunate sight—the House Magister, arms crossed, eyes stern.

"Ah, good timing, Lady Sera," the Magister said. "Remember, you're on cleaning duty."

Sera's expression froze. "Ah, right.."

The Magister turned to Verena. "Since you were just discharged from the clinic, you are excused for now."

Sera's head snapped toward Verena so fast it was a wonder she didn't sprain something.

"Oh, that is complete and utter—" She took a deep breath, visibly restraining herself. Then, with her most saccharine smile, she turned back to the Magister. "My most esteemed House Magister, may I humbly inquire as to why I must suffer alone for our shared dormitory responsibilities while Lady Fragile Over Here gets to lounge around like some delicate, wilting flower?"

Verena placed a hand on her chest. "Sera, how touching! You'd rather suffer with me? I had no idea you cared so much."

"Oh, I care, alright. I care about justice. And fairness. And the fact that this fraudulent lady here is probably faking half her ailments just to get out of work!"

"Lady Sera, are you questioning my decision?"

"...No, Magister."

"Good. Now, the floors need scrubbing. Get to it."

Verena patted Sera's shoulder with exaggerated sympathy. "Don't work too hard. I'd hate for you to end up in the clinic next."

"I hope the next time you trip, you don't get up."

Verena sighed, shrugging as she retreated to her room, bathing, freshening up, and settling into the comfort of her bed.

But as she lazily gazed out the window, she caught sight of Sera, scrubbing the floors with an almost tragic level of determination.

Ugh, guilt.

With a reluctant groan, she got up, wandered outside, and grabbed a broom from the pile of cleaning supplies.

Sera had a suspicious glare. "What are you doing here?"

"Weren't you just whining about justice? I'm here to help."