The Villainess Refuses to Follow the Script-Chapter 14 -

Beatrice sat at the royal dining table, gripping her fork like it was the only thing keeping her sane.

Across from her, the Da Villes were in their element.

The royal family had formally welcomed them to dinner, but the atmosphere was anything but warm. The table was long and grand, lined with gold-trimmed plates, crystal goblets, and an array of exquisite dishes. But despite the elegant setting, the tension was thick enough to choke a man.

Duke Conrad Da Ville sat directly across from the king, his expression calm and unreadable. Next to him, Ethel was all dazzling smiles, acting as if this was a friendly gathering and not an absolute political battlefield.

And then there was Magnus.

He looked completely at ease, swirling his wine with one hand, a lazy smirk tugging at his lips. But Beatrice knew him too well. He wasn't just here for the food, he was here for the show.

She braced herself. This was going to be a nightmare.

The first few minutes passed in tense silence, the only sound coming from the quiet clinking of silverware.

Then Conrad spoke.

"Your Majesty," he said, voice smooth and measured, "I must say, the kingdom seems to be... thriving."

King Marshall Montague barely lifted his gaze from his plate. "It is."

Conrad smiled. "I suppose we have the strong alliances and prosperous trade routes to thank for that."

Beatrice's stomach sank.

Oh no.

The royal family ruled the kingdom, but the Da Villes controlled a significant portion of its wealth. Their influence over mines, trade, and naval fleets made them indispensable. If the Da Villes ever withdrew their support, the economy would suffer.

And Conrad was reminding the king of that.

Subtly. Politely.

But very, very clearly.

The king finally set his goblet down, studying Conrad with mild amusement. "Yes. Fortunate, isn't it?"

The tension crackled.

Beatrice shoved a piece of bread into her mouth before she could say something stupid.

Across the table, Ethel gave a soft, delicate laugh. "Oh, but prosperity alone is not enough, is it? A kingdom must have strong leadership to endure."

Queen Cecile's eyes narrowed slightly. "Are you questioning the strength of our rule, Duchess?"

Ethel placed a hand over her chest, gasping theatrically. "Oh, never! I was merely thinking of the next generation of rulers."

Johanna stiffened.

Beatrice almost groaned out loud.

Here we go again.

Ethel turned to Francois, smiling sweetly. "Your Highness, the role of queen is such a demanding one, don't you agree? It requires strength, confidence... and a keen mind."

Beatrice stabbed her fork into her plate.

Ethel was pushing Beatrice forward again, and insulting Johanna at the same time.

Across the table, Lila rolled her eyes. "Are you implying Johanna lacks those things?"

Ethel's smile didn't falter. "Oh, dear, I would never imply such a thing. I simply worry that some may struggle under the pressure."

Johanna kept her expression serene, but Beatrice saw the way her hands curled into her lap.

She's getting tired of this.

Before Johanna could speak, Conrad smoothly continued, "Of course, I understand Your Majesties' choice. But one cannot deny that Beatrice has shown... unexpected potential."

Beatrice nearly dropped her fork.

Ethel nodded. "Yes! She has always been so clever and quick-witted. It's no surprise she has gained attention here at court."

Beatrice stared at them in horror.

They were talking about her like she wasn't even in the room.

Across the table, Francois finally spoke.

"Has she?"

Beatrice whipped her head toward him, eyes wide. Excuse me?!

Francois took a slow sip of wine, his expression unreadable.

Lila snorted. "I think Lady Beatrice's reputation is... unique."

Magnus smirked. "Unique is a good word for it."

Beatrice kicked him under the table. Magnus didn't even flinch.

Instead, he casually turned his attention to Lila. "So, Princess. Tell me, how does it feel to have such refined company at court?"

Lila arched an eyebrow. "Are you calling yourself refined? How bold."

Magnus grinned. "Would you prefer charming?"

Lila scoffed. "I would prefer silence."

Beatrice wanted to throw her plate at them both. She didn't have time for whatever this was.

But Magnus, being the absolute menace he was, just leaned forward slightly. "Ah, but you seem quite interested in my presence, Princess. You keep looking my way."

Lila's cheeks darkened.

Beatrice nearly choked on her drink.

Oh. Oh, that was dangerously close to flirting.

Lila narrowed her eyes. "I look at you only to ensure you haven't embarrassed yourself yet."

Magnus smirked. "And? Have I?"

Lila huffed, turning away. "Not yet. But the night is young."

Beatrice pressed a hand to her forehead. This dinner was a disaster.

As the conversation continued, Beatrice tried to ignore her parents' endless campaigning, Magnus's unnecessary smirking, and Lila's rising frustration. But she couldn't ignore the growing tension between Johanna and the Da Villes.

Johanna was still silent, still composed, but there was something tight in her posture.

She wasn't used to being questioned. She wasn't used to doubts.

Beatrice swallowed. This is the moment where things start shifting.

The moment where Johanna, the perfect heroine, begins to realize she might not win as easily as she thought.

The moment everything changes.

Beatrice exhaled slowly, gripping her fork tighter. If she had any chance of survival, she needed to be careful.

Because the story was no longer following its original script.

"The future of the kingdom is in good hands, Duchess. I will devote myself to ensuring that I will support His Highness if I am to become queen one day."

Johanna's voice was perfectly serene, but Beatrice caught the way her fingers tightened subtly over her lap. She was holding her ground.

Ethel smiled, tilting her head. "Oh, how wonderful. Dedication is admirable, of course, but it must be exhausting, having to meet such high expectations every day."

Johanna's expression didn't waver. "Only when one lacks the strength to bear it."

Beatrice nearly dropped her knife. That was the most subtly cutting remark she had ever heard from Johanna.

Ethel's smile froze for half a second before she laughed lightly. "Oh, dear, how wise you are."

Beatrice's head snapped back and forth between them.

Were they... sparring?

This was new.

In the novel, Johanna had always been graceful and kind, never engaging in underhanded exchanges. But now? Now she was pushing back, just enough to remind Ethel that she wasn't weak.

Beatrice slowly took a sip of wine. Interesting.

Conrad chuckled. "Of course, Lady Johanna has been well-prepared for her future role." He turned his gaze to Beatrice, eyes glinting. "But then, so has my daughter."

Beatrice choked on her drink.

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Lila sighed dramatically. "You're still pushing this?"

Conrad merely smiled. "What father wouldn't want the best for his child?"

Magnus, who had been silent for the last few minutes, suddenly leaned forward. "Yes, Princess. Surely you understand. You must feel the same pressure from your family, don't you?"

Beatrice knew exactly what he was doing. He was turning the conversation onto Lila, forcing her into the discussion.

Lila, who hated being dragged into anything. Lila, who had zero patience for Magnus Da Ville.

"I wouldn't compare myself to Beatrice," she said flatly. "She's special in her own way."

Beatrice narrowed her eyes. Why did that sound more like an insult than a compliment?

Magnus smirked. "Oh? And what way is that, exactly?"

Lila took a slow sip of wine, not breaking eye contact. "She's... unique."

Beatrice scowled. "Why does everyone keep saying that like it's an insult?"

Lila ignored her. "But I suppose you'd know all about unique things, wouldn't you, Lord Magnus? Given how uniquely unbearable you are."

Magnus grinned. "Oh? Unbearable? I thought I was bold?"

"You're both," Lila muttered.

Magnus leaned closer, his smirk widening. "You really do talk about me a lot, don't you?"

Lila's spoon hit the plate with a sharp clink. "I—"

Beatrice grabbed her goblet and downed the rest of her wine. She was going to die at this table.

Across from her, Johanna was still composed, but Beatrice could see that she was taking in everything. Every word, every glance, every shift in tone.

She wasn't just enduring the conversation, she was watching. Studying.

Beatrice had a very bad feeling about that.

As the meal dragged on, she finally let out a slow breath.

This was just the beginning. And she had a feeling things were about to get much, much worse.