The Villainess Wants To Retire-Chapter 494: A fool

"That’s mine!" Bianca shrieked, her desperation turning into a blind rage. She began to channel her magic, the air around her feet frosting over as she tried to conjure ice to bind Ophelia’s legs. "Give it back, or I’ll—"

"You’ll what?" Ophelia interrupted, raising an eyebrow in genuine amusement. She watched the ice begin to creep up her silken boots, but she didn’t flinch.

"I’ll have to kill you!" Bianca gasped, her illusions and ice swirling in a weak, disorganized display of power. "I’m sure you don’t want me to—"

Ophelia laughed harder, a sound of pure, cutting derision. "You? Kill me? How very... delusional."

Ophelia’s expression went dead. The amusement vanished, replaced by a cold, dangerous gravity. "Everyone thinks my power is limited, Bianca. They think ’Light Magic’ means healing. They think it’s gentle. Harmless. They think I am a pretty lantern in a dark hallway."

She stepped forward, and the ice around her feet didn’t just melt... it shattered into dust. "No one knows what I can really do. No one has ever seen the edge of the light."

A blinding radiance began to gather around Ophelia’s hands.

It wasn’t the soft glow of a candle; it was sharp, jagged, and cutting. It felt like the heat of a desert sun concentrated into a razor’s edge. The sheer pressure of her magic pushed Bianca back against the statue.

"I was wrong about her," Bianca whispered to herself, her heart hammering against her ribs. "She isn’t gentle. She’s a monster."

"Just give it back," Bianca tried again, her voice now small and pleading. She reached out, a pathetic gesture of authority that Ophelia simply ignored.

"I don’t think so," Ophelia replied, her tone as pleasant as if they were discussing the weather. She stepped back, keeping the dagger well out of reach. "You really thought we were allies? You really thought I needed you for anything more than a delivery?"

Ophelia began to dismantle her, word by word. "You’re a tool, Bianca. A useful, loud, fragile fool. No wonder Soren barely acknowledged you, even after you chased after his heart like a starving dog. It was pathetic to watch. Truly." 𝑓𝘳𝘦𝑒𝑤𝑒𝘣𝘯ℴ𝘷𝘦𝓁.𝑐𝑜𝑚

"Vetra used you," Ophelia continued, her voice a whip. "I used you. Everyone uses you, Bianca, because you are so... desperately... stupid."

Bianca’s face burned with a mixture of rage and humiliation. She began to gather her magic, her hands glowing with a frantic, unstable light, preparing to strike.

Ophelia didn’t even raise her guard; she simply sharpened the light around her fingers into blades. They stood on the precipice of a violent explosion.

Then, the sound of marching boots echoed through the hallway.

"Secure the wing!" a voice shouted from the distance. "Find her! Check every alcove!"

It wasn’t a small patrol; it sounded like a dozen guards, their armor clanking in a rhythmic, terrifying approach. Ophelia’s eyes flickered toward the sound. "It’s about time."

Bianca’s panic reached a fever pitch. The second truth dawned on her: Ophelia hadn’t just stolen the dagger. She had timed this. She had likely tipped off the guards before they ever met. Bianca was a wanted criminal. If she was caught now, she would be executed before the sun rose.

"You have a choice, little fool," Ophelia said, watching Bianca’s terror with a look of pure savoring. She leaned back into the shadows of the alcove as the light from the guards’ torches began to flicker at the end of the hall. "Run. Now. You might make it to the servant tunnels if you’re fast."

She glanced at the dagger in her hand, rubbing the obsidian thumb-print with a slow, agonizing deliberation. "Of course... you’ll be running without this."

"I’d wish you luck," Ophelia whispered, her small smile returning as the guards’ voices grew louder. "But we both know luck can’t fix stupidity. Run along, Bianca. And pray you don’t run into Eris on your way out. She might not be as patient as I’ve been."

Bianca didn’t stay to argue. She couldn’t. The fear of capture, of being dragged back to a cell while the world burned, overrode her rage.

She turned and fled, her boots pounding a desperate retreat down the opposite corridor. She felt humiliated, betrayed, and utterly powerless. She had lost the one weapon that could have given her the life she wanted.

Ophelia stood alone in the alcove for a few seconds, watching the empty hallway where Bianca had disappeared. She looked down at the dagger. It was hers. The piece was in place.

As the guards rounded the corner, their torches illuminating the intersection, Ophelia smoothed her skirts and allowed the radiance in her hands to fade. Her expression shifted into one of gentle, concerned distress—the perfect Queen, lost in the storm.

"Your Majesty!" the lead guard cried, his sword lowering as he recognized her. "Are you alright? There is an invasion!"

Ophelia slipped the obsidian dagger into the long, flowing sleeve of her gown. She looked at the guards with wide, watery eyes, the picture of regal vulnerability. "I’m fine," she said softly. "I just... I got lost in the chaos. I was trying to find my way to the safe rooms."

"Let us take you to safety, Your Majesty," the guard insisted, stepping aside to form an escort.

"Thank you," Ophelia replied, her voice gracious. She followed them, a compliant and grateful monarch, her fingers secretly brushing the cold, sharp edge of the hidden blade.

...

The East Wing had always been a sanctuary of soft silks and scented woods, a place where the politics of the Empire were meant to go silent.

Now, it was a gauntlet. Eris ran, her boots skidding on the polished stone, the sound of her own frantic breathing echoing back at her like a haunting.

Her lungs burned with every intake of air, a raw, searing heat that had nothing to do with the dragon in her blood and everything to do with the biological limits of a mother pushed to the brink of collapse.

Faster, her mind shrieked, a singular, jagged command that overrode the protest of her muscles. Not fast enough. Never fast enough.