Villainess’s Redemption (Reborn Villainess #1)

Chapter 6

I looked at Prince Anderic Voltaire, and for a moment, I thought I’d gone blind. The man was a walking ray of sunshine, complete with golden wavy hair, sun-kissed skin, and eyes so blue they made the sky jealous. His dimpled smile could probably charm half the kingdom and then some. It was almost comical how perfect he looked – as if the gods had decided to create the most irresistible man and then said, “hmm, we overdid it.”

But I knew better. Beneath that dazzling exterior lurked a dangerous man, cold and calculating. His charming personality was nothing more than a well-crafted mask, hiding a mind as sharp as a dagger and twice as deadly.

He approached me, his loyal captain of the guard, Lennox, trailing behind like a particularly stern shadow. He kept glowering at me from a few paces back. The captain of the guard never did approve of me. Just like every other person around me. Story of my life.

I noticed Anderic wasn’t in his usual royal get-up. Instead, he sported an outfit that screamed, ‘I’m trying to blend in, but I’m still richer than you’ll ever be.’

I stared at him, momentarily stunned by his sudden appearance. Of all the people I could run into, it had to be him. And to think I had been counting my lucky stars this morning for not having run into this walking nuisance.

“What?” I so eloquently managed to say. Smooth, Ilyana. Really smooth. Add some drool and finish the whole look now.

Who knew I was an idiot in my past life.

Anderic gestured towards where the boy had been beaten up, his eyebrows raised in what appeared to be a genuine surprise. “That was very generous of you, Lady D’Arcane. I must say, I’m shocked to see you lowering yourself to help the common folk.”

His eyes, usually as warm as the winter in the northern wastes, held a flicker of curiosity this time. It was almost as if he was trying to solve a particularly vexing puzzle. Me, apparently.

“M’lady,” he said, flashing that golden smile that made court ladies swoon, and as for me I wanted to roll my eyes, “I must apologize for missing your wedding. Royal duties, you understand. But allow me to extend my congratulations now.”

I snapped out of my stupor and curtsied politely, careful not to address him by his title. Two could play at this game of subtle subterfuge. “Thank you, My Lord. Your kind words are most appreciated,” I replied, my voice dripping with honey-coated politeness. “I didn’t realize you were in the habit of lurking in alleyways.”

His smile widened, showing perfect teeth. “Oh, I find it educational. You never know what… or who… you might stumble upon.”

Almost everyone only saw his charming golden prince mask, but with me, he always let it slip, making sure I saw the danger—a silent warning not to harm his family.

Clearly, he recognized the evil in me. Evil recognizing the evil. Oh, The irony. We were the opposite side of the same coin. Maybe that’s why I fell for Noah despite growing up with both of them. Noah’s genuine warm nature called to my dark twisted soul or maybe I was simply deluding myself.

“Perhaps you’d join me for a refreshment?” he offered, gesturing to a nearby café. “I was just about to enjoy the… local flavor.”

I bet you were, I thought. He was probably enjoying the whole thing from the upper terrace of the café, sipping tea without offering a shred of help. Of course, the suffering of poor people was none of his concern.

You wouldn’t have cared too, a voice reminded me in my mind. True, if I hadn’t suffered I also wouldn’t have cared.

The summer solstice flashed through my mind, a night of deception and manipulation— all my doing that he knew all too well. He’d often throw subtle jabs my way about it, I was always fearful that he would reveal my schemes. But surprisingly he didn’t interfere.

“Your offer is most gracious,” I said, channeling every ounce of noble upbringing I possessed. The idea of sitting across from Anderic, engaging in verbal sparring while he picked apart my every word and action, made my skin crawl. “But I’m afraid I must decline. My errands won’t run themselves, you see.”

“Come now,” he pressed, his smile never wavering. “Surely your errands can wait for a cup of tea with an old friend?”

I nearly snorted. Friend? That’s a stretch, Your Highness.

“I appreciate the invitation,” I said, matching his smile with one of my own, “but I really must be going. My husband will be expecting me.” He would not.

“Ah, yes,” Anderic nodded, his eyes twinkling with amusement, his ever-present honeyed smile back on his face.

Ugh! I think I puked a bit in my mouth.

“How is married life treating you, Lady D’Arcane? Or should I say, Lady Stormbourne?”

There it was – the subtle dig I’d been expecting. Two could play at that game.

Didn’t it ever get exhausting for him? The act, the game.

“It’s Stormbourne now, actually,” I said, letting a touch of false pride color my voice. “Ilyana Stormbourne. And married life is simply delightful, thank you for asking.”

I didn’t want to use the Stormbourne name, but pettiness won out. Sue me.

Anderic’s lips quirked into that infamous dimpled smile, the one that had half the court swooning at his feet. But I knew better. What that smile meant. Behind that charming facade lurked a dangerous predator, always watching, always calculating.

“Well then, Lady Stormbourne,” he said, emphasizing my new name, “I won’t keep you from your marital bliss any longer. Do give my regards to my dearest cousin.”

“I shall,” I replied, already turning towards my carriage where Laurel waited. “Good day, sir.”

As Laurel and I climbed into the carriage, I could feel Anderic’s gaze burning into my back. I resisted the urge to look back, instead focusing on not tripping over my skirts as I ascended the carriage steps. Not that I was in the habit of tripping—my upbringing was too good for that—but he just made me nervous. Wouldn’t that just be the perfect end to this little encounter? Falling flat on my face in front of His Goldiness himself.

Once safely inside, I let out a breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding. Laurel looked at me, her eyes wide with curiosity.

“My lady,” she whispered, “was that…?”

“Yes, Laurel,” I sighed, settling into my seat. “That was indeed our esteemed Prince Charming himself.”

As the carriage began to move, I wondered what game Anderic was playing. Whatever it was, I was determined not to be just another pawn on his chessboard. Too much was at stake.

* * *

I stepped into Primrose Boutique, and for a moment, I thought I’d wandered into a pastel-colored nightmare. The place was a confectionery of frills, lace, and enough ribbons to gift-wrap the entire royal palace. Dresses in every shade of pastels and unicorn vomit hung from racks, each more ostentatious than the last.

I used to like these.

Madame Primrose herself swooped down on me like a particularly colorful bird of prey. Her hair was piled high in an elaborate coiffure that defied gravity and good taste. She wore a dress that seemed to be made entirely of ruffles, giving her the appearance of an overgrown bush.

“Lady Stormbourne!” she trilled, her voice as saccharine as her designs. “What an honor to have you grace our humble establishment!”

Humble? I thought. If this is humble, I’d hate to see what you consider extravagant. Set in the most glitzy avenue of Eldoria, Primrose Boutique was anything but humble.

“Madame Primrose,” I greeted, forcing a smile. “Your reputation precedes you.”

“Oh, you flatter me!” she simpered, batting her eyelashes so furiously I was worried she might take flight. “But come, come! You simply must see our latest creations. They’re to die for!”

To die for, or to die in? I wondered as she led me deeper into the boutique.

“This,” she announced, gesturing dramatically to a dress that looked like it had been crafted from spun sugar and dreams, “is our pièce de résistance. The ‘Ethereal Blossom.’ Isn’t it divine?”

Divine wasn’t quite the word I’d use. The dress was a confection of pale pink silk, overlaid with layers upon layers of gossamer-thin tulle. Tiny crystal beads adorned the bodice, catching the light and throwing rainbows across the room. The skirt billowed out in a cascade of ruffles so voluminous it could probably house a small family.

“It’s… certainly something,” I managed, trying not to wince.

“Oh, but that’s not all!” Madame Primrose gushed, sweeping over to another creation. “This is our ‘Celestial Serenade.’ Perfect for those moonlit garden parties!”

The dress in question was a silvery-blue concoction that seemed to shimmer and shift in the light. Delicate embroidery of stars and moons covered the bodice, while the skirt was adorned with what appeared to be actual crystals. I couldn’t help but think that wearing it would be like draping oneself in a chandelier.

“How… practical,” I murmured, picturing myself trying to navigate a garden in that monstrosity. I’d probably get stuck on every rosebush within a ten-foot radius.

Madame Primrose continued her tour, showing off dress after dress, each more outlandish than the last. The “Springtime Sonata” looked like someone had glued an entire flower shop to a dress form. And don’t even get me started on the “Midsummer Night’s Fantasy,” which seemed to be composed entirely of fairy wings and wishful thinking.

Primrose Boutique got its popularity within the noble class after Queen Felicia wore one of Madame Primrose’s gowns. At that time her creations must have been far more sober and elegant for Her Majesty to wear since I hadn’t heard of the queen wearing any more of Madame Primrose’s designs after.

As Madame Primrose waxed poetic about the virtues of each creation, I found my mind wandering. I imagined trying to milk a cow in the “Ethereal Blossom,” or attempting to harvest wheat while wearing the “Celestial Serenade.” The mental image was so absurd I had to bite my lip to keep from laughing out loud.

Finally, when Madame Primrose paused for breath, I seized my chance. “Madame,” I said, keeping my voice as polite as possible, “while your designs are truly… unique, I require something a bit different.”

Her perfectly plucked eyebrows rose so high they nearly disappeared into her hairline. “Different, my lady?”

I nodded, steeling myself. “Yes. I was hoping for something simpler, more elegant. And perhaps in darker colors?”

You’d have thought I’d suggested we burn the boutique to the ground. Madame Primrose’s face went through a series of expressions so quickly it was as if she were skipping through the pages of an emotional script. Shock, confusion, disgust, and finally, a sort of pitying disdain.

“Darker colors?” she repeated as if the very words left a bad taste in her mouth. “But my lady, surely you jest! Dark colors are so… common. Peasant-like, even. A lady of your standing—”

“A lady of my standing,” I interrupted smoothly, “knows her own mind. And at present, my mind is set on darker, simpler gowns.”

Madame Primrose’s lips pursed as if she’d bitten into a particularly sour lemon. Darker colors, after all weren’t common for noble ladies, it was mostly worn by the common folk.

“I see,” she said, in a tone that suggested she didn’t see at all. “Well, I’m afraid we don’t cater to such… tastes here at Primrose Boutique. Perhaps you’d be better served elsewhere.”

And just like that, I was dismissed. Madame Primrose’s simpering smile had transformed into a sneer of thinly veiled contempt. It was almost impressive how quickly she could switch from fawning to frigid.

Next to me, I heard Laurel gasp, clearly offended on my behalf. I could practically feel the indignation radiating off her in waves. Before she could say anything that might make the situation worse, I laid a gentle hand on her arm.

“Thank you for your time, Madame Primrose,” I said, my voice dripping with sugary politeness. “Your creations are truly… unforgettable.”

With that, I turned on my heel and strode out of the boutique, practically dragging Laurel close behind me. As we stepped back into the bustling market, I smiled to myself. Some things never change, it seemed. But still, I wanted to give her a chance.

“How could she speak like that to you? It is so disrespectful. You should complain to Her Majesty, my lady.” Laurel was fuming outside the boutique. I smiled to myself. She looked adorable with her cheeks flushed red in anger, like a cute chipmunk.

“Ok, ok, calm down my little bodyguard. No need to be this angry. We have a lot of things to do.”

After Laurel and I left Primrose Boutique, I felt a sense of relief. The overpowering scent of lavender and disappointment faded as we walked into the bustling street.

“My lady,” Laurel ventured, her voice tinged with curiosity, “what shall we do now?”

I glanced at her, a mischievous glint in my eye. “We’re going on a little adventure, Laurel. To a new boutique in the southern avenue. It’s called Magnolia.”

Laurel’s eyes widened, her mouth forming a perfect ‘O’. “But my lady, you’ve never been there before!”

“There’s a first time for everything,” I quipped, already steering us in the direction of the southern avenue.

As we walked, I recalled what I knew about Magnolia’s owner, Annalise. In my previous life, she had been booted from Primrose Boutique for the heinous crime of having her own style. The audacity! Imagine, a designer with original ideas. Clearly, such blasphemy couldn’t be tolerated in Madame Primrose’s realm of ruffles and regret.

We arrived at Magnolia, and I hesitated for a moment. In my past life, it was Rosalind who had catapulted Annalise to fame with that sober yet elegant dress at the winter solstice masked ball. The same ball that had ended in a bloodbath and kicked off my spectacular downfall. Ah, memories.

I stood there, overthinking my actions. What if changing this detail led to disaster? But then again, if I managed to undo my mess, Rosalind wouldn’t need to play detective at the ball. No clues to seek, no assassins to fight off. Just a nice, boring party with too much wine and not enough wit. Perfect.

Taking a deep breath, I pushed open the door. The shop was a stark contrast to Primrose’s pastel nightmare. Clean lines, muted colors, and an air of understated elegance permeated the space. It was like stepping from a sugar-induced hallucination into a breath of fresh air.

Annalise greeted us, her eyes widening as she realized she had a noble customer. I could practically see the gears turning in her head, probably wondering if she’d accidentally stumbled into an alternate universe where the nobility had more taste than money.

“Good day,” I said, smiling warmly. “I find myself in need of some new gowns. Something elegant, but simple. Darker colors, if you please. Oh, and no ruffles. If I see another ruffle, I might scream.”

Annalise blinked, clearly shocked. I imagined her internal monologue: ‘A noble lady? In my shop? Asking for simple designs? What’s next, pigs flying?’

“Of… of course, my lady,” she stammered, finally finding her voice. “I’d be honored to create something for you. May I ask when you need them by?”

I waved my hand dismissively. “No rush. Quality takes time, after all. And speaking of time, do you do alterations as well?”

Annalise nodded eagerly. “Yes, my lady. We offer alteration services.”

“Excellent,” I said, clapping my hands together. “I have a closet full of gowns that need to be simplified. Think you can handle that?”

“Absolutely, my lady,” Annalise replied, a spark of excitement in her eyes. I could see the creative wheels turning in her mind, probably already planning how to transform my frilly monstrosities into something actually wearable.

We discussed details, colors, and fabrics. I asked her to do the alterations first, so I would have something to wear. With each suggestion, Annalise grew more confident, her initial shock melting away into professional enthusiasm. By the end of our consultation, she was sketching designs with a fervor that would make Madame Primrose’s carefully coiffed head spin.

As we prepared to leave, I pulled out my purse. “I believe in investing in quality work,” I said, counting out a sum that made Annalise’s eyes widen. “Consider this a down payment. For the new gowns and the alterations.”

Annalise stuttered her thanks, clearly overwhelmed by the generosity. If only she knew that in my past life, her designs had saved lives and brought down enemies. Well, maybe not enemies. Just my life. But same difference, right?

As Laurel and I stepped back onto the street, I felt a sense of satisfaction. One agenda crossed off my mental list. Now, onto the next one.