Memoirs of Your Local Small-time Villainess-Chapter 421 - Questgiver

Skye couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off as she watched the Baroness think.

Every pause felt deliberate. Every quiet moment stretched just a little too long. For all the woman’s assurances about letting them leave—about allowing them some kind of access to the Tribute, to Slate—it felt less like generosity and more like being slowly, carefully manoeuvred into a corner.

Even now. Maybe especially now.

For some reason, the Baroness had chosen not to crush them outright. Skye didn’t buy for a second that it was just because of Regina, but she also didn’t think the restraint came from kindness or anything like it. And until she figured out what the woman actually wanted, there was no way she could relax.

Her gaze slid sideways to Regina and Oveth, watching their sleeping forms. She wanted them awake before she agreed to anything. She might technically be the group’s leader, but for things like this—anything that might have long-term consequences—she trusted their judgement more than her own. She had a habit of acting on instinct, and that had already caused them enough trouble.

And nobles like Baroness Hartford? Empire politics in general?

That whole world was completely outside her depth.

“Ah,” the Baroness finally said, pulling Skye out of her thoughts. “I believe I have settled on something.”

Skye refocused on her.

A small smile curved the woman’s lips, and the hairs on the back of Skye’s neck prickled instantly. Every time she smiled, it felt like something bad was about to follow. Skye could still vividly remember the Baroness standing in the middle of a sea of fire in Beld Thylelion. That image was burned into her brain.

Seeing that same woman smile now just felt…wrong.

Like watching a wildfire have fun.

“Correct me if I am mistaken,” the Baroness continued, “but your group is unusually acquainted with more daring work, yes? The adventurous kind, let us say. A fugitive princess. An Oathbound knight. A former Council member. An avatar of a forgotten goddess.” Her gaze lingered briefly. “And you, leading them through places like Beld Thylelion.”

Skye narrowed her eyes.

That the woman knew about Mel or the others didn’t really surprise her at this point, but the way she listed it did. She was a complete stranger, yet she said it like she was casually ticking items off a checklist.

“How do you know all that?” Skye asked.

The Baroness waved a hand dismissively. “I do not feel particularly inclined to explain that. What matters is that a party like yours would be uniquely capable of leading an endeavour I currently lack the time to address.”

Skye frowned. “An endeavour?”

“Indeed. I presume you have taken on such work before. You may consider me a client, if that makes it more palatable. In exchange for accepting this, I would honour my word and allow you access to Slate here.”

Skye glanced at Slate.

The pale girl still hadn’t moved. Hadn’t even blinked. Her emerald eyes just…watched. It gave Skye the uncomfortable feeling of being observed by something that wasn’t really there, like a ghost. At the same time, the girl felt eerily distant and emotionless.

Like a presence rather than a person.

Like a machine.

The thought seemed to brush against something at the back of her mind, but she couldn’t quite place it.

“Of course, if you perform adequately, I may also consider offering additional compensation, commensurate with your results,” the Baroness said.

Skye looked back at her, still not answering.

She didn’t really care about rewards anymore. Early on, when she’d started getting quests, sure — new abilities, growing stronger, the rush of it all had been exciting. But once the risk to the people around her started becoming real, that stuff stopped mattering as much. What good were rewards if the world might end before any of it mattered?

That said…she’d seen what this woman could do. As stupid as Skye felt sometimes, she wasn’t just going to walk away from whatever the Baroness considered a reward purely because of who was offering it.

Apparently taking Skye’s silence as permission, the Baroness continued.

“It may not surprise you to know that my affairs tend to draw the attention of groups most people would prefer to avoid. The Hallowed Cabal is one such group. Even for me, they require…careful handling, but they are manageable.”

Skye didn’t know whether to laugh or scoff. She and her group had only run into the Cabal a couple of times, but she would never have called them ‘manageable’.

Then again, this was a woman who had knocked all of them out without breaking a sweat. It wasn’t surprising her sense of scale was a whole lot of skewed.

“There is another group,” the Baroness said, her tone sharpening slightly, “that poses a greater complication for me. Their isolation from the Empire makes reliable information scarce, but they remain a significant threat. Possibly more than I originally anticipated.”

Skye’s brows rose slowly. “…You’re talking about the Undead Council, aren’t you?”

The woman smiled again. “You are perceptive. Yes, that is what I am referring to.”

“You want us to look into them for you?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Because, as I mentioned, I currently lack the time and flexibility to do so personally. Your party, however, is particularly well suited to acting in my stead.”

Skye glanced at Oveth. Then back at the Baroness.

Her first instinct was to say no. Loudly. Grab her friends, leave, and never look back. She didn’t like any of this. This woman was practically radiating ulterior motives, and she’d openly called herself a villainess. Even if that title didn’t sit quite right, trusting her still sounded insane.

Right?

But then…what were their options?

They’d failed in Beld Thylelion. Failed again here. If they walked away now—took this ‘mercy’ and ran—they’d be leaving everything in this woman’s hands and just hoping it worked out.

That didn’t feel like choosing safety.

That felt like giving up.

Skye hated the thought of being the reason people around her got hurt. But the idea of just…letting everything they’d fought for slip through her fingers wasn’t much better.

Her jaw tightened as she drew in a long breath.

She was exhausted. Exhausted, sore, and frustrated with herself. Exactly the kind of headspace Regina was always warning her about when it came to making big, long-term decisions.

But she knew one thing for sure.

She wasn’t done.

No matter what, she wasn’t backing out. Even if she had to keep going alone to make up for her screw-ups, she would do everything she could to stop this world from ending up like the futures Regina had described.

If that meant working for this woman—or working against her—so be it.

A quest window flickered into view.

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[Main Questline: A World’s Fate — Crossroads]

{Baroness Scarlett Hartford has deigned to show you mercy, yet something unreadable lingers behind her gaze. She seeks to employ your services for her own needs. Will you cooperate?}

[Status: Ongoing]

[Objective: Decide]

[Reward: ?]

[Failure: The Baroness’ ire]

Skye stared at it.

It was shorter than most quests she’d gotten. Way more basic, even. And for the first time, the reward was just a question mark.

That…bothered her.

“Is there something wrong?” the Baroness asked.

Skye looked away from the window. “No.”

“No? Then your answer?”

Skye turned back to her companions, eyes lingering on them. “I need time to think about it. I’m not deciding something like this without talking to them first.”

“Is that so? That is reasonable, I suppose. We can discuss the particulars once they awaken. There is much I would first like to inquire about with your Council friend.”

The Baroness rose from her seat, smoothing her dress as she did.

“I have said what I wanted. I will take my leave. You may depart with your companions as soon as you are able, should you wish. Otherwise, you are permitted to remain here for the time being.” She paused briefly. “Somewhere more comfortable than a cell, this time.”

She gestured towards the pale girl still seated beside her. “Slate. Come.”

Slate stood without expression, her gaze lingering on Skye for a second longer before she followed. The two of them left the room without another word.

Skye was left alone with her unconscious party.

The silence settled in fast. Even then, she couldn’t shake the feeling that she was still being watched.

A shiver crept down her spine.

She nearly jumped when the door opened again — but it wasn’t the Baroness. Instead, an elderly man stepped inside, dressed in a black suit. His dark grey hair was neatly combed back, and a trimmed moustache completed the look.

He stopped near the doorway, a polite smile creasing his lined face. “My apologies, miss. I hope I am not disturbing you.”

Skye blinked, then shook her head. “No. You’re not.” A quiet, humourless huff slipped out. “Not much left to disturb, honestly.”

She just hadn’t been expecting to see an honest-to-god butler.

The whole thing really did feel like it wandered straight out of some weird drama. Regina had told her stories about some of the things she used to deal with when she was still acting as a princess, but those were generally pretty tame. And Skye’s own experience with nobility was limited.

There was something weirdly gratifying about seeing this guy.

Though much of that feeling faded the moment she remembered who he worked for.

The butler cleared his throat gently, folding his hands behind his back. “My Lady informed me that you and your companions”—his eyes flicked briefly to Regina and the others without stalling—“may be escorted to temporary quarters. Would you like me to arrange that?” 𝕗𝗿𝕖𝐞𝐰𝗲𝕓𝐧𝕠𝕧𝗲𝐥.𝚌𝐨𝚖

Skye chewed on her lip, glancing at Regina.

“…Let’s hold off for now.”

She realised a bit too late that she should’ve asked how long they’d be out. She really hoped they were all fine.

“Of course, miss. Whenever you reach a decision, simply inform me.”

A few seconds passed. When the man didn’t leave, Skye looked back up at him.

He was watching her with a thoughtful expression. “If you’ll forgive me for saying so, miss, but you appear quite tired.”

Skye snorted softly. “I got knocked out, locked in a cell for half a day by your ‘lady’, and I haven’t eaten since before sunrise. I’d be worried if I wasn’t tired.”

She almost followed it up with something sharper, but stopped herself.

He seemed like a nice guy. It didn’t feel right to be rude to him just because of who he served.

The butler didn’t look offended in the slightest. “In that case, might I have something prepared for you to eat?”

Skye shook her head. “No, thanks.”

Even ignoring how long it had been, she didn’t want food right now. She knew it wasn’t great, but eating while stressed always made her stomach twist into knots. That usually just made everything worse.

She wanted to wait until the others woke up, at least. And until she knew Mel was okay.

“Very well.” The old butler studied her for another moment, then inclined his head. “Would you care instead for a cup of coffee? With some light refreshments.”

“…Coffee?”

As contradictory as it sounded, coffee was actually one of the things that always helped her relax.

“Yes. We have several blends available. And if you prefer additions, I believe we have cinnamon, honey, cardamom, butter…or others, if you’d like.”

Her brow furrowed.

Who’d put butter in their coffee? That sounded insane.

Although…

For some reason, she kind of wanted to try it.

Scarlett shook her head.

Who drank their coffee with butter?

An insane person, if you asked her.

Then again, her younger sister had always been all kinds of insane when it came to food. Pineapple on pizza, peanut butter mixed with noodles — any flavour that would make people hesitate before even the first bite. Skyler tended to gravitate towards those combinations, almost as if she took pleasure in watching others recoil.

Though Scarlett knew that she genuinely liked them.

She also knew that the girl had terrible eating habits despite that. It wouldn’t surprise her in the least if Skyler refused to eat even if offered now.

But coffee was another matter.

That, Skyler never turned down.

She was about as close to an addict as one could reasonably get, and Scarlett sometimes felt a twinge of guilt for having enabled it — letting herself get dragged along on coffee runs back when Skyler had first moved out. More often, though, that guilt was drowned out by exasperation at whatever bizarre order her sister decided to try that day.

If there ever was one silver lining to Skyler potentially having lost some of her memories, perhaps it was the chance that she might develop something resembling a normal palate.

Scarlett wasn’t holding her breath.

And honestly…she wouldn’t mind if at least a few of those ridiculous preferences survived.

She had asked Garside to offer Skyler something to eat. Or coffee, if the woman declined. It was one of the few things Scarlett could do right now that felt uncomplicated — something that didn’t lean too heavily into the ‘Baroness Hartford’ persona.

She’d told him to offer it subtly. Naturally, without emphasis. She had been relieved when he agreed without question. It was undoubtedly an odd request, and she recognised that it would make him curious, but she trusted him that much.

Hopefully, he could help Skyler and the others steady themselves. Because right now, that wasn’t Scarlett’s role.

Her gaze drifted to the side, settling on the window of light floating there.

[Side questline: A Hero’s Patron — Plots(?) of the Council]

{You fear what the Undead Council may be orchestrating in the Unresting Steppes, beyond your sight. The Council strives for apotheosis. How close are they? Perhaps the Hero can tell}

[Objective: Have the Hero accept and complete your task]

[Reward: The Hero’s and Villainess’ growth]

[Failure: —]

She hadn’t been sure it would work, but for the first time in a while, the system had managed not to be insufferable and actually done what she wanted. She couldn’t be certain Skyler had received the same quest, but judging by the way her sister’s eyes had flicked at the exact same moment, Scarlett felt fairly confident.

That girl really needed to learn how to be more subtle.

Scarlett sighed.

She wished she could tell her to be more careful. But she couldn’t. That was the unfortunate reality she was working within for now.

And truthfully, despite the shared rewards dangling at the end, Scarlett was uneasy about the quest she had handed Skyler. Investigating the Undead Council in the Unresting Steppes was no small task. Arnaud Astrey had done just that, but he was among the empire’s strongest. Even then, he hadn’t managed to learn much before retreating.

Expecting more from Skyler and her party—when they couldn’t even stand against Scarlett herself—was asking a lot.

But it was true that Scarlett needed answers. More information about what was going on over there. What Arnaud had told her in Beld Thylelion had been concerning.

It was also true that Skyler’s party truly was better suited than most for the task. They already had experience in the Steppes, and they had Oveth, who was an expert at slipping past the Council’s magic.

Not to mention that Scarlett fully intended to supply them with enough artifacts and safeguards to multiply their odds of survival several times over. If it came to it, she still had both [Spheres of Serendipity] she’d used to enter Beld Thylelion. She had planned to keep them for easily returning to Freybrook whenever she left, but sometimes priorities needed to shift.

If her sister was going to cross the empire and beyond, Scarlett would adjust.

It was the right thing to do, she believed.

Or at the very least, the logical one.

That said, she had genuinely considered simply issuing Skyler something harmless instead. A loose, low-risk errand. Something that wouldn’t force Scarlett to wonder whether the girl was still alive while she was off dealing with gods, Viles, the Cabal, and whatever else lay ahead.

But she didn’t think that would work.

The Skyler she knew didn’t give up. She didn’t idle. She was someone who needed a purpose in what she was doing, and until now, that purpose had likely been finding the Tribute. Since Scarlett herself stood squarely in the way of that, only something real—something meaningful—would stop her from pushing straight back. Something that didn’t mean Skyler was giving up.

The Undead Council fit that purpose all too well.

It also aligned rather neatly with the system’s apparent obsession with the Hero’s growth.

Whether Skyler would actually accept the quest, however, was another matter. That depended on how the others reacted when they woke up. Worst case, they would leave as soon as they did — march straight to the capital, report Scarlett, and force her to upend most of her plans.

It was a possibility, but she doubted that would happen. Or maybe just hoped it wouldn’t. Because that was one of the few things she didn’t actually have a proper plan to counter.

She briefly wondered if there was any point in trying to bribe Skyler’s companions. Briana could be hard to sway, but Scarlett had plenty of arcane curiosities that would fascinate Oveth, and the princess might be interested in some of the knowledge preserved within Thainnith’s legacy.

And who knew — maybe even Skyler could be nudged a little if Scarlett spoke with the chef and convinced him to try a few more unusual dishes.

It was an avenue worth exploring, assuming they didn’t all rush off the moment they woke. But that wasn’t going to happen. After all, there was still one member of their party that Scarlett hadn’t released yet.

She ascended the stairs in the east wing, reaching the top floor where the ceilings were lower and the windows absent. At the end of the corridor stood a single door, slightly ajar, a spill of argent light leaking through the gap.

Scarlett slowed as she approached, then pushed the door open and stepped into the bedchamber beyond.

Sheets lay on the floor in the corners where they’d covered furniture, and sitting in front of the canopied bed at the centre of the room was a woman in grey robes, her back turned to Scarlett. Gold and silver shapes drifted just beneath the ceiling like suspended stars, and resting on a round cushion was a softly glowing embroidered moon, rotating and pulsing with a strange, steady rhythm that filled the room with a muted hush, almost like a melody.

Scarlett’s gaze lingered on the woman’s back for several seconds before she spoke.

“Hello, Melody,” she said. “Would you mind if we talked?”