Villainess’s Redemption (Reborn Villainess #1)

Chapter 16

A small gathering with the queen. And Rosalind, to celebrate her return. How delightful.

Just thinking about it is making my skin crawl.

The intimate gathering in Queen Felicia’s private solar felt stifling despite the gentle breeze wafting through the open windows. Plush velvet settees in deep burgundy formed a cozy circle around a low table laden with delicate pastries and steaming tea service. The room itself was a study in understated elegance - cream walls adorned with pastoral tapestries, ornate gold sconces casting warm light.

I settled into my assigned seat, painfully aware that I was placed directly across from Rosalind. The golden child herself looked radiant in a powder blue gown, her chestnut curls artfully arranged. The queen had spared no expense in welcoming her lost lamb home.

Sounds like you’re jealous. A voice whispered in my mind. I gritted my teeth.

Absolutely not!

“Ilyana, you seem quiet today.” Queen Felicia’s melodic voice carried an edge beneath its sweetness. Even Lady Amelia was throwing daggers at me with her eyes. Oh no . “Are you not pleased to celebrate Lady Rosalind’s return?”

I forced my lips into the perfect courtier’s smile. “Your Majesty is too kind to include me. I’m simply overwhelmed with joy at this happy reunion.”

Rosalind’s answering smile could have curdled milk. “Indeed. Though some reunions are more welcome than others.”

“Ladies,” Lady Seraphina cut in, “you simply must try these lemon tarts. The kitchen has outdone themselves.”

I side-eyed the tart. Trying to charm Her Majesty by playing the gentle lady, are we?

I accepted a tart, using the moment to gather my thoughts. The other ladies present - Seraphina, Penelope, and a few other ladies close to Queen Felicia - watched our exchange like vultures eyeing wounded prey. One wrong move and they’d swoop in for the kill.

“I hear you’ve been quite busy with charitable works, Lady Rosalind,” I offered carefully. “The queen speaks highly of your dedication to the less fortunate.”

“Unlike some, I believe that nobility comes with responsibility, not just privilege.” Rosalind’s words dripped honey-coated venom. I gritted my teeth in annoyance. It wasn’t like I could say anything to counteract the jab.

I didn’t know what was wrong with me. Why was I letting her jabs irritate me this much?

Calm down, Ilyana. This isn’t like you.

The queen’s eyes sparkled with barely concealed amusement. “Which is precisely why I’ve decided Lady Rosalind will oversee the next charity project in the future. With your assistance, of course, Ilyana.”

I nearly choked on my tea. Working together? The woman who’d rather see me drawn and quartered than share breathing space?

“What a generous suggestion, Your Majesty,” I dabbed my lips with a napkin. “Though I wouldn’t want to impose on Lady Rosalind’s vision.”

“Nonsense.” Queen Felicia’s tone brooked no argument. “I insist. After all, what better way to demonstrate the spirit of forgiveness and cooperation? Don’t you agree Rosalind?”

My hand froze for a moment but I forced it to continue eating the tart. What did she mean by forgiveness? Did she know everything? No, that couldn’t be right. If she knew everything I’d be in jail. She probably meant how I tricked Noah into marrying me.

Breathe, Ilyana. Breathe.

As Rosalind’s face tightened into a mask of forced gratitude, I couldn’t help but think if it was her subtle way of asking Rosalind to forgive me and move on.

“Yes, of course, Your Majesty,” Rosalind said through gritted teeth.

The room’s stifling atmosphere threatened to choke me. Between Rosalind’s saccharine smiles and the queen’s calculating gaze, even the delicate lemon tarts tasted like ashes in my mouth.

One more minute of this and I’ll crack. I need to get out.

“Your Majesty,” I stood with a perfect curtsy, “please excuse me. I require a brief moment to… freshen up.”

Queen Felicia waved her hand dismissively. “Of course, dear. Don’t be long.”

I practically fled the solar, Laurel’s soft footsteps trailing behind me. The moment we turned the corner, I yanked off my necklace, gasping for air.

“My lady?” Laurel’s concerned voice barely registered.

“Garden. Now,” I needed space, air, anything but the suffocating pleasantries and veiled threats.

The palace gardens beckoned with their promise of solitude. Sweet jasmine perfumed the air as I collapsed onto a stone bench, letting my head fall back.

I was afraid of running into Prince Anderic again but at that moment I didn’t care. I was ready to take the risk and pray for the best.

My prayers weren’t answered.

“Well, well. Escaping the welcome party, are we?”

Of course. Just my luck to run into the one person who could make this day worse.

Prince Anderic lounged against a nearby tree, golden curls catching the afternoon sun. His simple white shirt clung to his chest, still damp from his earlier sparring session.

“Your Highness,” I muttered, not bothering to rise. He could take offense for all I cared. “Come to torment me some more?”

He pushed off the tree with fluid grace. “Now why would I do that when you’re doing such an excellent job yourself?”

“Laurel, give us a moment.” My maid retreated to a respectful distance but not without a knowing wink as Anderic claimed the space beside me.

“Running from Lady Rosalind already?” His shoulder brushed mine. “Afraid of her stealing your husband?”

I turned to snap at him but found his face inches from mine, those dangerous blue eyes dancing with amusement.

When did he get so close?

“I don’t own Noah. He has his free will, he can do whatever he wants,” I managed, trying to ignore how his proximity made my pulse race. “I simply needed some fresh air.”

“Hmm.” His fingers caught a loose strand of my hair, twirling it thoughtfully. I slapped his hand away. “Am I making you nervous?”

I jerked away, cursing the heat rising in my cheeks. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“No?” His laugh was low, intimate. “Then why is your heart racing, lya?”

I shot to my feet, desperate to escape Anderic’s suffocating presence. “If you’ll excuse me, Your Highness, I should return to the gathering.”

“Running away again?” His voice held that infuriating amusement.

I strode down the garden path, seeking refuge among the blooming rose bushes. The gravel crunched beneath my slippers as Anderic’s longer strides easily kept pace.

Just keep walking. Don’t engage.

A flash of pink silk caught my eye - Lady Penelope meandering down an intersecting path, her maid trailing behind with an ornate serving dish. Perfect timing.

Penelope’s eyes lit up like a cat spotting cream. “Your Highness! What a delightful surprise to find you here,” she dipped into a perfect curtsy, somehow managing to make it look both demure and alluring.

Oh please. I exchanged knowing looks with Laurel. The garden path to the queen’s solar was three times longer than going through the palace. This “chance” encounter was about as accidental as my marriage to Noah.

“I’ve brought cherry soup for the gathering.” Penelope gestured to the dish her maid held. “I made it myself, following my grandmother’s special recipe. It’s a specialty from my hometown,” her smile was pure sugar as she addressed Anderic, barely sparing me a glance.

And I’m sure your maid would have something to say about you ‘cooking’ it.

I seized my chance. “How thoughtful! You should hurry before it cools. If you’ll excuse us-”

Anderic’s hand shot out, fingers wrapping around my wrist. “Lady Ilyana and I have matters to discuss.”

Penelope’s smile flickered for just a heartbeat, darkness flashing in her eyes before the sugary mask slipped back into place. Great. Just what I need - another noble lady plotting my downfall.

“Of course,” Penelope simpered. “I wouldn’t dream of interrupting.”

Laurel made a choking sound that distinctly sounded like a laugh.

“Your soup smells divine,” Anderic said smoothly. “But Lady Ilyana and I must attend to some urgent business.”

My head turned towards him in a flash, eyes wide. Since when?

I tugged against his grip as I whispered under my breath. “Let go.”

He ignored me as he smiled politely at Lady Penelope. His thumb traced circles on my pulse point.

I watched as Penelope retreated, but something in the subtle tilt of her head caught my attention. A nearly imperceptible nod to her maid.

Oh, how adorable. The old “trip and spill” routine.

In my previous life, I’d orchestrated similar “accidents” countless times. The maid’s stumble was almost artistic - just enough momentum to send the steaming soup flying directly at me while maintaining plausible deniability.

I shifted my weight, ready to sidestep the incoming deluge. But before I could move, a wall of white linen and masculine warmth materialized between me and certain scalding. Anderic’s arms locked around my waist as the soup splashed across his back with a wet thud.

Time seemed to slow. My hands splayed across his chest, feeling his heart hammer beneath my palms. His face hovered inches from mine, those dangerous blue eyes darkened to stormy seas. A droplet of soup traced down his neck, and I found myself mesmerized by its path.

Stop staring at his neck, you fool.

“Are you alright?” His voice came out rough, barely above a whisper.

“I…” Words failed me. The scent of him - leather and sandalwood with a hint of steel - made it impossible to think straight.

“My lady!” Laurel’s panicked voice shattered the moment. She rushed forward, handkerchief at the ready.

“Your Highness!” Penelope’s shrill cry followed as she hurried towards us, face twisted in mortification. “I’m absolutely mortified! Maria, you clumsy girl!”

The maid dropped into a deep curtsy, trembling. “F-forgive me, Your Highness! The dish was so heavy, I lost my balance…”

Anderic’s arms remained firmly around my waist. “Did any splash on you, Lady Ilyana?”

“No, thanks to your… timely intervention,” I tried to step back but his grip tightened fractionally.

“Your Highness, please let me help-” Penelope reached for him but froze at his sharp look.

“That won’t be necessary.” His tone could have frozen hell itself. “Though perhaps you should ensure your servants are better trained in the future.”

I felt his muscles tense beneath my hands and realized I was still touching him. I snatched them back as if burned.

The way his lips curved into that knowing smirk told me he’d noticed my discomfort. His thumb traced one final circle on my hip before he released me, and I fought the urge to shiver.

My mind finally caught up with the situation as Anderic released his hold on my waist. Heat rose to my cheeks - partly from embarrassment, partly from anger.

“What were you thinking?” I rounded on him, hands on my hips. “That soup was scalding hot! You could have been seriously burned!”

His lips twitched. “Would you prefer I let you get scalded instead?”

“I would have dodged!”

Behind us, Penelope was still stammering apologies. “Your Highness, I’m so terribly sorry. Please let me make amends…”

“You may leave.” Anderic’s voice held no room for argument. Penelope’s face fell as she gathered her skirts and hurried away, her maid scurrying after her.

Good riddance.

I turned my attention back to Anderic, who was now sporting a rather large wet patch across his expensive white shirt.

“For heaven’s sake,” I moved behind him, examining the stains spreading across his pristine white shirt. “You didn’t have to play hero, Your Highness.”

I poked at his shoulder blade where an angry red patch was forming. He didn’t even flinch. “You’re burned. We need to get this treated before it blisters.” When he didn’t respond, I moved to face him. “Eric, are you even listening to me?”

His eyes snapped to mine, an intensity in them that made my breath catch. The afternoon sun caught his golden curls, creating a halo effect that seemed absurdly appropriate for his angelic features. But there was nothing angelic about the way he was looking at me.

I waved my hand in front of his face. “Hello? Earth to Eric? Was any of that scalding soup absorbed by your brain?”

His hand shot out, catching my wrist mid-wave.

“What?”

“You called me Eric.” Ah. The childhood nickname I used to call him.

Heat crept up my neck. My breath caught. The way he said it - soft, almost reverent - made my heart stutter. His thumb traced circles on my palm, sending shivers up my arm. “I… that’s not…”

“ERIC!” Sebastian’s voice boomed across the garden. “Are you bullying my sister again?”

I jerked away from Anderic as if burned, my heart thundering in my chest. Taking several hasty steps back as Sebastian approached with long strides, his green eyes—so similar to mine—dancing with mischief, completely oblivious to the tension he’d interrupted.

“Quite the opposite,” Anderic drawled, not taking his eyes off me. “I was just saving your dear sister from some unfortunate soup-related accidents.”

Oh gods. The weight of Anderic’s dagger, still tucked away in my chambers, seemed to mock me from afar. I had totally forgotten to return it. Here he was, playing hero, while I’d been hoarding his weapon like some deranged magpie.

Seb will kill me.

“I should go,” I blurted, gathering my skirts, desperate to escape before Sebastian could start asking questions. “You two catch up. I’m sure you have much to discuss.”

“Lya, wait-” Sebastian called after me.

But I was already running, my slippers barely touching the ground as I ran. Decorum be damned .

Behind me, I heard Sebastian ask, “What did you do to make her run like that?”

What did he do indeed? The real question was - what was he doing to my heart?

* * *

“My lady, I can’t help but notice you seem… distracted.” Laurel’s voice held barely contained glee as she helped me change for the evening.

I shot her a warning look through the mirror. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“Oh? So the way Prince Anderic held you in the garden was completely unremarkable?” Her nimble fingers worked at my laces. “And how you practically fled from him had nothing to do with-”

“Laurel!” Heat crept up my neck. “That’s quite enough.”

She grinned, completely unrepentant. “As you wish. Though I must say, the prince looked rather… affected when you ran away.”

I groaned, burying my face in my hands. The dagger sitting on the table. “What am I going to do with that cursed thing?”

“Return it?” Laurel suggested helpfully. “Isn’t that what you were supposed to do?”

“I hate you.”

“No, you don’t,” she hummed, gathering my hair. “You could always give it to Agnes. She has access to his chambers.”

Which is exactly how I found myself lurking outside Anderic’s wing like some deranged assassin, clutching his dagger wrapped in cloth.

The halls were mercifully empty, moonlight streaming through tall windows and casting elongated shadows across the marble floor. My heart thundered so loud I was certain the guards would hear it.

Agnes, Anderic’s elderly maid, emerged from his chambers looking as stern as ever. Perfect.

“Lady Stormbourne?” Her voice cracked like a whip. “What brings you to this wing at such an hour?”

I thrust the wrapped dagger toward her. “Could you please return this to His Highness? My brother-”

“His Highness is in his bedchamber,” she cut me off, already turning away. “Third door on the right.”

“But I-”

She was gone before I could protest, leaving me alone in the moonlit corridor with Anderic’s dagger and my racing thoughts.

Absolutely not. I’m not going into his bedchamber.

The logical thing would be to leave the dagger with a guard. Or come back tomorrow. Or throw it out a window and pretend this never happened.

Instead, my traitorous feet carried me to the third door on the right.

Just leave it by the door, I told myself. Knock and run.

I raised my hand to knock, but before my knuckles could touch wood, the door swung open.

Anderic stood there, golden curls tousled, wearing loose sleeping pants and an undone shirt. The candlelight behind him cast his bare chest in shadows that did absolutely nothing to hide the defined muscles there.

His dark, dangerous eyes locked onto mine. “I was wondering when you’d work up the courage to knock.”

Oh hell.

I stood frozen in the doorway, my mind blank as Anderic turned and walked back into his chambers, his fingers already working on the remaining buttons of his shirt.

“What the hell are you doing?” My voice came out higher than intended.

“Getting undressed,” he didn’t even look back at me. “The burn needs redressing, and I can’t reach it myself.”

“That’s what healers are for!” I clutched the dagger like a lifeline.

He glanced over his shoulder, moonlight catching the planes of his face. “At this hour? They need rest too. Besides, you’re already here.”

The shirt slipped from his shoulders, revealing the angry red patch spreading across his right shoulder blade. Guilt gnawed at my conscience. He’d gotten that protecting me from Penelope’s “accident.”

Don’t think about his bare skin. Don’t think about-

“Are you coming in, or shall I leave my door wide open for all to see?” There was that infuriating amusement in his voice again.

I stepped inside, closing the door with a soft click that felt oddly final. His chambers were surprisingly austere for a prince - dark wood furniture, deep blue drapes, and a massive four-poster bed that I absolutely refused to look at.

A medical kit sat open on his desk, presumably left by Agnes. “At least sit down so I can reach properly.”

He settled into a chair, and I approached with all the enthusiasm of someone walking to their execution. The candlelight played across the muscles of his back, casting shadows that highlighted every dip and curve.

Focus on the burn. Just the burn.

“This might sting,” I dabbed the salve as gently as possible, but he didn’t even flinch. “You’re either very brave or very stupid, you know that?”

“For getting burned, or for letting you near me with medicine?”

“Both.” My fingers traced the edge of the burn. “Though I suppose I should thank you for playing hero.”

“Is that what I was doing?” His voice dropped lower, sending shivers down my spine. “Playing?”

My hand stilled on his shoulder. The room suddenly felt too warm, too small. His skin burned beneath my palm, and I couldn’t tell if it was from the wound or something else entirely.

“Eric…” The childhood nickname slipped out again, unbidden.

He caught my wrist, turning to face me. The movement brought us impossibly close, my skirts brushing against his legs. “You did it again.”

“What?” I could barely breathe.

His thumb traced circles on my pulse point. “My name. You said my name. The way you used to say it.”

The candlelight caught his eyes, turning them from ice to flame. My heart thundered so loud I was certain he could hear it.

This is dangerous, my mind screamed. Run.

The heat of his gaze snapped me back to my senses. What am I doing? I cleared my throat and took a deliberate step back, putting some blessed distance between us. The dagger felt heavy in my hands as I thrust it toward him.

“Sebastian told me to return this to you.” My voice came out steadier than I felt.

Anderic’s eyes flickered to the weapon before returning to my face with lazy amusement. “Keep it.”

“I can’t-”

“The emeralds match your eyes,” he leaned back in his chair, all casual grace now as if the heated moment between us had never happened. The candlelight caught the planes of his chest, and I forced my gaze up to safer territory. “Consider it a wedding gift, since I couldn’t attend the ceremony.”

“You’re impossible,” I gripped the dagger’s hilt. The gems did catch the light rather beautifully. “And manipulative.”

His lips curved into that infuriating smirk. “So I’ve been told. Though I prefer to think of it as… persuasive.”

I weighed my options. Arguing with Anderic was like trying to empty the ocean with a teaspoon - futile and likely to leave me soaking wet. The dagger was exquisitely crafted, and having a weapon wouldn’t hurt…

“Fine,” I tucked it into the folds of my skirt. “But don’t think this means-”

“You should go.” His voice had cooled to princely politeness, all trace of intimacy gone. “Before my chambers become the subject of palace gossip.”

And just like that I was dismissed. His hot and cold behavior was getting rather tiring.

As I turned to leave, his voice stopped me at the door.

“And Lya?” The way he said my name sent shivers down my spine. “Do try not to stab anyone important with it.”

Was that a challenge or a warning?