Wait, My Overpowered Skill is Just… Love?!-Chapter 10 - 9: The Perfect Distraction

Cecilia sat in her carriage, staring out the window as the lush countryside rolled past. The afternoon sun cast golden rays over the fields, and in the distance, she could see the towering walls of Lady Vivienne's estate, where today's tea party was being hosted.

She wasn't in the mood for a tea party.

Not today.

Not when something felt wrong.

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---

Earlier That Morning

Before Cecilia had left for the gathering, the estate had received urgent news.

A scout had arrived breathless and pale, handing a sealed message to her father, Viscount Reinhardt.

Reinhardt's eyes darkened as he read.

"A group of armed bandits has been sighted near our territory," he muttered, his voice low. "They're gathering in numbers near the southern border."

Cecilia's mother, Elara, frowned. "Bandits don't usually work together in large groups."

Her father nodded. "That's what concerns me."

Selene, standing near the doorway, spoke for the first time.

"I'll go."

Her voice was calm, decisive.

Cecilia's stomach twisted.

She turned to Selene. "Are you sure? Shouldn't we wait and gather more information?"

Selene's violet eyes met hers. "There's no need. If we wait, they might move closer."

Reinhardt nodded, his decision immediate.

"Yes. Take a unit of knights and patrol the border," Reinhardt ordered. "If it's just minor raiders, handle them quickly."

Selene placed a hand over her chest, bowing slightly. "It will be done."

Then, without another word, she turned and walked out.

Cecilia watched her disappear through the hall doors, a strange chill creeping up her spine.

Something about this... felt wrong.

---

Cecilia sighed, shifting in her seat.

She was alone in the carriage, but two knights rode alongside her on horseback as escorts. Another two knights sat in the driver's seat, ensuring her safety.

She knew she was well protected.

And yet...

Her fingers curled against the fabric of her dress, her mind drifting back to Selene.

It wasn't unusual for Selene to go on patrols.

But this time, Cecilia couldn't shake the feeling that something was off.

Hadn't Lord Albrecht left their estate too easily?

Hadn't his words carried too much certainty?

"You can delay the inevitable, Lady Cecilia. But you can't stop it."

She hated that those words still lingered in her mind.

She hated that for the first time in her life, she felt truly uncertain.

The carriage rocked slightly as they crossed a narrow bridge, snapping Cecilia out of her thoughts.

She exhaled, trying to focus.

This was just a tea party.

Nothing was going to happen.

Right?

The carriage was rolling steadily down the road.

The next—

An explosion rocked the earth.

The horses reared violently, neighing in panic.

Cecilia was thrown forward, barely catching herself before she hit the opposite seat.

"What—?!"

The carriage lurched to a stop, and the distant sound of shouting and metal clashing filled the air.

Cecilia's heartbeat spiked.

A knight's voice rang out. "AMBUSH—!!"

Another loud explosion followed, shaking the ground.

The door was yanked open, and one of her knights, Sir Garret looked at her with wide, desperate eyes.

"My lady, you must stay inside—"

An arrow flew past him.

Cecilia barely saw the movement before Sir Garret collapsed, blood spilling from his throat.

Her breath caught.

The air felt too thick.

She tried to move, to run—

But before she could react, a pair of arms grabbed her from behind.

A blind spot.

The knights were focused on the frontal attack.

And in that one moment of weakness, someone had slipped past them.

Before she could scream—

A cloth was pressed against her mouth.

Her vision blurred.

Her limbs went weak.

Her mind screamed Selene—

Then—

Darkness.

---

Darkness.

Cecilia's mind drifted in and out of consciousness.

The world around her felt distant, muffled, like she was trapped beneath a thick fog.

Her body was heavy, her limbs numb.

Her mouth was dry.

Her wrists ached.

Somewhere in the back of her mind, her thoughts were screaming.

'Where am I? What happened?'

And then—it hit her.

The ambush.

Her heart pounded violently.

She wasn't in her carriage anymore.

She wasn't at the estate.

She had been taken.

She woke to the steady rocking of a moving carriage.

Her wrists and ankles were bound tightly with thick rope.

The air smelled of damp wood and sweat.

The space was cramped, dimly lit by a small lantern.

Wooden walls surrounded her. The ceiling was low, barely giving her room to sit up properly.

Her throat burned.

Whatever drug they had used to knock her out had left her weak.

Cecilia blinked, forcing herself to stay calm.

She was inside a different carriage.

One that was not heading toward Lady Vivienne's estate.

Two men sat at the front of the carriage, speaking in hushed voices.

Their voices were rough, unrefined—not bandits.

Mercenaries.

Cecilia kept her breathing slow and controlled, listening carefully.

"...Think we'll get the full payment?" one of them muttered.

A gruff chuckle. "If we deliver her alive, yeah."

Cecilia's stomach dropped.

Payment.

Deliver.

She wasn't just being kidnapped for ransom.

Someone had ordered this.

Someone wanted her.

The second man exhaled. "I still don't get why we went through all this trouble."

"Because the client's paying good coin."

"I know, I know, but still—why her?"

Cecilia's body tensed.

Her mind raced.

Who?

Who had hired them?

She needed to know.

The first mercenary snorted.

"Come on, you really don't know?"

His partner grumbled. "They don't tell us anything. Just the target and the money."

"Well, let's just say our employer's got big ambitions."

A laugh.

"That sadistic bastard got some big plan for her. Whether she like it or not."

Cecilia felt her breath catch.

Her mind connected the dots instantly.

There was only one person who had been pushing for her.

One person who had been denied.

One person who would gain from taking her by force.

Lord Albrecht.

Cecilia clenched her fists, her nails digging into her palms.

Panic threatened to crawl up her throat.

But she shoved it down.

Now wasn't the time for fear.

Now was the time for action.

She tested her bindings, shifting her wrists slightly.

The rope was tight.

But the carriage was moving.

And moving meant shaking.

If she could use that to her advantage...

Maybe she could loosen the knots.

What Cecilia didn't know—

Was that someone was already following.

A dark figure moved silently along the forest path, following the carriage from a distance.

Violet eyes watched from the shadows.

Expressionless. Cold.

But beneath that calm exterior—

Was something seething.

Something hungry for blood.

Selene had already found their trail.

And soon, they would learn.

Learn that when you steal from a beast—

The beast comes to take it back.

---

[SELENE POV]

The moment Selene stepped back through the estate gates, she knew something was wrong.

The air was too still, the knights at the entrance looked shaken and the household staff whispered nervously behind closed doors.

Selene's eyes narrowed.

And then—she saw him.

A knight, barely clinging to consciousness, was being dragged into the hall, his armor soaked in blood.

Not just his own.

Selene's heart slowed.

Cecilia's carriage was missing.

Her entire body locked into place.

A single, suffocating thought took over.

Where is she?

Selene stormed into the main hall, her boots hitting the marble floor with deadly precision.

The first thing she saw—

Elara sobbing.

The Viscountess was collapsed in a chair, her entire body trembling.

Tears streaked her cheeks, her hands clutching a handkerchief so tightly her knuckles were white.

Reinhardt stood beside her, one hand on his wife's shoulder, his jaw tight with rage and grief.

The entire household was in chaos.

Servants ran from one room to another, knights barked orders, and the air itself was suffocating.

But Selene only had one question.

She turned her gaze to the bloodied knight on the couch.

Her voice came out cold. Sharp.

"What happened?"

The knight, Sir Garret, barely lifted his head.

His eyes were hollow.

"We—" He coughed, spitting blood onto the floor.

Selene waited.

He swallowed hard, his throat raw.

"...We were ambushed."

Elara let out a choked sob.

Selene's fingers curled.

Of course they were.

She already knew what had happened.

The moment she heard about the bandits at the southern border, she should have realized.

That was the distraction.

The real attack was here.

"Selene—"

Elara's voice broke.

She turned toward Selene, gripping the front of her tunic with trembling hands.

"You have to get her back," she whispered. "You have to—"

Her voice shook violently.

Tears continued to fall down her face.

Selene had never seen Elara Aetheria cry.

Not once.

Not even when her own father passed away.

Not even when she suffered through illness.

But now—her daughter was gone.

And the pain was unbearable.

"Please," she whispered again. "Selene—"

Selene reached up, gently prying Elara's fingers from her tunic.

She didn't speak immediately.

She just stared at the Viscountess, her violet eyes unwavering.

Then—she bowed slightly.

"I will bring her back."

Elara let out a sob.

Reinhardt's voice was low, tight with controlled rage.

"We don't have time," he muttered.

Selene turned toward him.

His entire body was rigid.

His fists clenched.

He was barely holding himself together.

"If they took Cecilia," he continued, his voice hollow, "it means they don't plan to kill her immediately."

Selene's eyes narrowed.

"They want her alive," she murmured.

"For now," Reinhardt corrected.

Elara shuddered.

The implication was clear.

The longer Cecilia was gone, the worse the situation would become.

Selene straightened.

"I'm leaving now."

Reinhardt didn't stop her.

Elara only cried harder.

Selene turned back to Sir Garret.

The knight coughed weakly, trying to lift his head.

"I—I tried to stop them," he muttered. "We all did."

Selene said nothing.

She just watched.

"We fought," Garret whispered. "We fought—"

His hands trembled.

Selene's voice was quiet.

"But you lost."

Garret flinched.

And for a moment—his entire body crumpled inward.

Guilt.

Despair.

He had failed his duty.

But Selene didn't care about his pain.

She only cared about one thing.

She leaned down, her voice like ice.

"Where did they take her?"

Garret swallowed hard.

"They moved fast," he rasped. "Took a different carriage. Headed east."

Selene stood immediately.

East.

Toward the forests.

Of course.

The main roads would be too obvious.

If they were smart, they'd use the hidden trade routes between noble territories.

But they weren't smart enough.

Because Selene was already onto them.

And she wasn't stopping.

As Selene turned toward the door, Reinhardt spoke again.

"Selene."

She stopped.

Her father's voice was low, commanding.

"You can't just charge in without a plan."

Selene turned her head slightly.

Her expression was completely blank.

"I have a plan," she murmured.

Reinhardt's eyes narrowed.

"You're going to kill them all, aren't you?"

Selene tilted her head.

Slowly.

Deliberately.

She didn't answer.

Because they both already knew.

Reinhardt exhaled slowly.

"Don't get yourself killed," he muttered.

Selene smirked.

"I won't."

She turned on her heel and left.

The moment Selene left the estate, her mind went silent.

Everything slowed.

Her heartbeat.

Her breathing.

The sound of the wind through the trees.

Everything became clear.

She found the tracks almost immediately.

The wagon wheels.

The disturbed dirt.

And—blood.

Not Cecilia's.

One of the knights must have wounded one of the attackers.

Selene crouched, pressing two fingers against the dirt.

The tracks were fresh.

They were moving fast.

But not fast enough.

Selene's gaze lifted toward the darkening forest.

Her pulse slowed further.

The world narrowed.

Everything became silent.

Something that boiled inside her, coiling around her ribs, threatening to consume everything in its path.

Anger.

Cecilia belonged to her.

Not to House Aetheria.

Not to her parents.

Not to some pathetic noble who thought he could claim her.

Her.

They had stolen from her.

And she would not forgive them.

Her mind was burning.

The thought of Cecilia—bound, trapped, afraid—made her vision darken.

Did they touch her?

Did they hurt her?

Did they think they could keep her?

She exhaled slowly, forcing the thoughts back.

For now.

Because soon—she would act.

For the crime of taking what was hers.

And she was going to rip them apart.

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