The Villainess was Loved

Chapter Seventy-One: Magnetic Charm

“Yes, but can you imagine such a situation?”

“Where you’d have to care which company you let into Clay.”

“I have to care now; heavens forbid they pollute Lake Norvig. I think the best, for now, would be to import. Shipping is a b***h, but they worship the earth too much for, you know….”

“ Speaking of,”

Breca added as the carriage, rounded to the resort we were meant to spend the week in.

“I happened to score a meeting with one of the owners of Quiescence farms. I think we can import milk, cheese and crops directly from the source. Cut out the middle man.”

“Maybe we can get a supply to get the island through the winter, but more than finished products, I feel like we should get seeds and farm animals. Perhaps do everything internally.”

I added, then crossed my legs only to uncross them moments later.

Every position felt uncomfortable with the gentle swell slowly beginning to show; my physic did not help either.

But it didn’t matter; I had at most one more week to decide on whether to keep the child or not.

At eighteen weeks, abortions outside of medical emergencies are illegal.

“That’s a good idea, but it’s already autumn, the harvest season.”

“We can get some winter crops like potatoes so that hopefully, by the end of winter, we’ll have some potatoes. Hmm, maybe we can start with small-scale seasonal farming?”

“I’ll look into it.”

The resort’s name was splayed before us in prominent and unignorable colours.

‘Coral Resorts’

Patum was not a residential place; instead, apartments were the only housing options available. Most of the city was comprised of hotels, resorts and villas; after all, it is a merchant city that was visited mainly by nobles and celebrities due to its excessive living.

That is part of the reason I don’t frequent the area, but alas, I was out of an army, and who knows when the royal family may decide to attack.

“I thought we agreed to stay away from prestigious hotels; you should have rented an apartment rather than-!”

“Apartments are in the city; there are no beach views there! Plus, this is one of the low-brow areas, so it should be fine.”

“Isn’t Coral the name of someone famous in Cursix?”

“Yes, but trust me, it’s low-brow compared to the rest of the areas.”

Just as she said the words, actor Florencio Serrano walked past our carriage hand in hand with a moss-green-haired woman.

If that was not bad enough, the entrance to the resort was littered with paparazzi snapping pictures of the two.

“You have got to be joking?”

I turned harshly to Breca as though she could have prevented all that.

“They must have thought the same as we did?”

She answered, shrugging sheepishly, then cleared her throat for a continuation of an excuse.

“They must have attracted the paparazzi!!”

“You think so?”

“Okay, down with the sarcasm-,”

The words were barely out of her mouth when a flash from outside was directed to our carriage.

“We need to stay somewhere else.”

I suggested, but Leon shook his head.

“We would need to settle down first; looking for housing or another resort during the busy period is a bit….”

“That’s your advice, settle down? Settle where?”

He pealed his coat from his body, then opened it.

“I will do my best to cover you.”

“You suggest we make a run for it?”

“Yes, and fast.”

The carriage drew to a halt, and the swarming vultures crowded its entrance.

The hotel knights rushed to try and clear a path by holding hands with each other on both sides to form a wall, but all that did was attract the attention of passersby in the resort.

“Gods! I feel….”

I frowned, suddenly conscious of the gentle swell of my belly.

My dress was baggy; it did not cling nor show off any aspect of me, paired with the perfect sun hat and shades strangely suited to the weather.

They may recognise the crest on the carriage, but there was no way they could know that it was me, right?

“Who do you think that crest is for?”

The voices of the paparazzi grew audible.

“Perhaps a new name.”

“Gods, I love auction season! This is where we eat!!”

It was much too easy to give Breca the middle finger, but the coachman opened the doors to the carriage.

‘f**k!’

Leon lept out of the carriage first, then helped me out; that unfortunate pause allowed them to take a few snaps of me, but after Leon’s cloak covered me, all I could hear were the questions.

“What is your family name?”

“That’s the hero of Evlon! Don’t you know?”

“The Countess of Clay?”

“Yes! That’s her! That’s the countess! I know that crest!”

“Countess Alpensa!”

“ What is it like dealing with savages?”

“Countess Evergreen!”

“Countess…!”

“My lady….!”

“Your ladyship, over here!!”

“Is it true you plan to marry the duke of the north?”

“Is it true you want the first prince to break his engagement?”

“Is it true you tried to sabotage your former sister?”

“Is it true you were kicked out of the Alpensa house because you harassed the crown princess?”

“ Is it true…”

“Is it true…?”

‘Annoying!’

They all asked, ‘is it true’ as though they were truly interested in the truth rather than the next big scoop.

*

*

“Are you okay?”

Breca asked as soon as we entered the lobby.

Perhaps it was the smell of the ocean or the large view it provided that calmed my nerves, but I did not wish to leave the rustic hotel.

“Countess?”

“I am well.”

I turned to Leon.

“Thank you.”

He gave me a confused look, as though those were not words he would ever expect from my mouth.

‘Goddamn hormones!’

I felt giddy and excited to explore the resort, as though, even if it was for just a day, I did not have to be on the battlefield, because, after all, this is my very first resort to visit, in this life, my last and my original.

How I wish Aran were with me.

*

           *

                       *

The next day

Rheyes Kerhid Norvig Yarez

“So when you say ‘soon’, what do you really mean?”

Rheyes smiled at the question Mitchelle asked.

They were outside sipping tea, at Mitchelle’s insistence that he needed a break.

“When I say ‘soon’. I mean, soon, perhaps tomorrow, next week or-”

“Today?”

Michelle completed his sentence for him then threw him a smile.

“Your hesitation is understandable, Rheyes; mating is really…”

“More permanent than marriage?”

This time it was his turn to finish her sentence.

“Yes, you could say that. But we have known each other since we were kids, so it’s not as though I will suddenly sprout feathers afterwards.”

“I wouldn’t mind feathers.”

He teased, she made it easy with her light-hearted nature.

“Mmh! They just announced a winter wedding for your little sister. Have you talked to her?”

“Have you ever seen Priscilla and me in the same room?”

“It is her wedding day! Come on! At least send her a fruit basket, or some Kranis minerals, or dragon scales!! Humans love that stuff as though they could ever harness its fullness.”

Mitchelle leaned forward then grabbed a jam cookie off the platter.

Her long, straight white hair tumbled before her, and in a show of grace, she tucked the excess behind her ear.

This brought his attention to the slenderness of her shoulders.

Indeed, she would do well as the queen of dragons and the duchess of the North.

In the North, due to its species variants, there was a king, queen, or chief for every species with more than two hundred thousand of that species per area, and as such, to maintain order, high ranking nobles bore two titles.

One for those unfamiliar with Northern customs and the other for inland practices.

“I heard that the Sylra heir will be escorting lady Regina to Patum for the auction season; how scandalous.”

“Shouldn’t he practise his magic more?”

“Oh, it’s cute, young love and such.”

“She is engaged; it is a futile endeavour.”

“How practical, Gods! Rheyes, you think I wish to be with a practical man all my life? Gods, start a bar fight over my love, scream my name into the hills. I want passion from you.”

“I am not passionate about romance, but I will avenge you should someone hurt your feelings? Is that good enough?”

“Urgh!”

She leaned back to her chair, then rolled her eyes.

“Speaking of engagements.”

She changed the topic.

“Elora wants you to propose publicly; how do you feel about a visit to Central? Or maybe we can go to the south; there should be a celebrity cruise celebrating some production, right?”

“What about Patum?”

Stanley asked as he plopped the newspaper the butler had handed him mere seconds ago to the table.

“Stanley, lovely pf you to interrupt tea time with the love of my life?”

“Always a pleasure, lady Lundossa.”

Their interactions were always quipped, and most of the time, Rheyes enjoyed them.

However, this was not one of those times. Rather, his gaze was too glued to the picture of the Countess of Clay in the arms of Killian’s former knight littering the first page of the paper followed by the words;

{‘War Hero on Vacation with Possible Conquest?’}

“It seems Patum is the hotspot of the season.”

“Oh! That’s a grand idea; I think they have international dress shops in Patum! I can find the garments I told you about from the last fashion show I attended in Cursix.”

Mitchelle chirped.

But Rheyes’ thoughts were far from hotspots or dresses, they were focused keenly on the woman in the picture.

‘How can one be so…’

She was even more beautiful than he remembered. He wished to trace her curves through the parchment but the bagginess of her garments would not permit that.

He scanned the headlines once more.

{‘War Hero on Vacation with Possible Conquest?’}

The title was no doubt meant to entice buyers as Killian’s former knight was no doubt performing only knightly duties in the picture… but…but…

Weren’t they too close?

If she were his, he would never permit another to embrace her in such fashion.

If he were to depart for Patum, would he find her?

Will she wear a dress with the tightness he preferred, if only to sate the craving he had been trying to overwork into nonexistence?  

If they met he would not approach her, he would just…watch.

“Let’s fly.”

“Fly? To Patum?”

Mitchelle asked confused.

“Yes, let’s.”

 “Okay, first of all, yay! Patum! But as for flying, are you kidding? We’d terrify the civilians. Hell, you’d petrify them Mr Nine heads. Teleport is the best option.”

“Urg, I don’t like teleporting.”

“It will be over in a second, don’t be such a baby.”

*

           *

                       *

Étienne Norvig Yarez

The picture in the newspaper was enough to entice him to postpone all meetings and reschedule his plans.

This could be his last chance to try and convince her to see things his way; no, she just needed to listen to him, then she would understand the pureness of his soul.

He truly did not wish to resort to violence as she had.

But he would forgive her; that was how much she meant to him.

How magnanimous he was.

‘She will see that, right?’

He dropped his pen to the desk with a giggle then grabbed his coat.

“Gaston, ready the horses; I wish to attend an auction in Patum.”

“Your fiancé has already departed. Should we send a raven?”

“No, no, she will be fine with Finor; he is a good lad. I will meet her there.”

“If the queen asks?”

“Tell her that I have gone to Patum to be with my fiancée.”

“What of the meeting you had scheduled with the Marquis?”

“Gods! Tell him I had an emergency!”

The door, before he could exercise the necessary control, slid open.

“Where is my son off to in such a rush?”

‘For God’s sake!’

“Mother, what an unexpected visit.”

He replied to the visitor with his teeth pressed together.

“Quite so.”

She nodded.

“The Marquis and I are here to discuss wedding arrangements.”

“A wedding? This soon?”

“Did the prince intend to deflower my daughter then leave her bare?”

The Marquis asked as he, like his mother, stepped unwelcomed into his study.

A suffocating feeling gnawed at him, but he was unsure what it was or how to express it, so he turned to his knight.

“Have the maids bring some tea.”