Villainess’s Redemption (Reborn Villainess #1)

Chapter 22

I slumped into the plush armchair in our wing’s drawing room, My head was buzzing from all the thoughts about what I’d say to Noah. I had decided to come clean to both Rosalind and Noah. Well, as much as I could tell without putting myself or my family at risk. I had already cleared up most things with Rosalind two days ago. Now, I only needed to do the same with Noah, which was going to be even harder.

So, I had been sitting here with a raging headache while Laurel’s questioning gaze burned into me, and I knew I couldn’t avoid her curiosity any longer.

“Just say what you want,” I sighed, gesturing for her to speak.

Laurel chewed her lips. “I’ve been thinking…” she trailed off.

“Well?” I prompted, arching an eyebrow.

“Why do you want so much money?” she blurted out. “Your father gifted you one of his shops for your wedding, and even excluding that, you already have everything. So why this sudden change?”

I leaned forward, a sardonic smile playing on my lips. “You can get a lot of things if you simply have the money to pay for it. For example, if you pay enough, you can be freed from prison or be exempt from death row.”

It’s better to be prepared for the worst since I’ve come to accept that I make a terrible detective. It was useless for me to try and find the possible real culprit behind Magnus’s imprisonment.

Laurel’s brow furrowed in confusion. “Why would you even think that?”

Uh . I might have said too much. But before I could backpedal, the door opened, and Noah strode in, shock flickering across his face at seeing me sitting there, a sight rarer than rain in the desert.

I stood up as Noah entered, my heart pounding against my ribcage. With a quick glance at Laurel, I nodded, and she bowed before exiting the room, the soft click of the door echoing in the sudden silence.

The comforting drawing room now felt stifling. I steeled myself for what I was about to face, breathing in the faint scent of lavender that lingered in the air.

“Ilyana,” Noah greeted me, his voice tinged with relief. “How are you doing? It’s good to see you up and about again. Seeing you looking deathly pale lying on the bed…,” he trailed off, worry flashing in his eyes.

A sudden surge of guilt washed over me. Damn it, why does he have to look at me like that? But I knew what needed to be done. The quicker I ended this, the better for both of us.

“Noah,” I started, my voice steady, with no hint of what I was feeling inside. “I need to say something to you.” I took a sharp breath. “Actually, I need to clear something up.”

He looked at me questioningly, his brow furrowing slightly. I took a deep breath, the words I’d rehearsed a hundred times in my mind suddenly feeling inadequate.

“Do you remember the last summer solstice?” I asked, but before he could answer, I plunged ahead. “We didn’t sleep together that night. I… I lied to you.”

I looked up to find worry in his eyes instead of anger and hatred. What?

“Ilyana, did you hurt your head when you fell that day? Should I call the doctor?” He genuinely looked worried. He turned to walk towards the door.

What?

In a panic, I grabbed his hand, “Wait! look at me, Noah. I’m alright and no, I’m not joking.”

But he still looked confused.

“That day, I purposefully made you drink more than you normally do. Any servants could take you to your room easily but I insisted on accompanying you. No one forced me,” I put a bit of distance between us and flicked my hair with my chin jutted out in my signature arrogant tilt. “And no one can force me to do anything I don’t want, not even you Lord Noah. Don’t you know who I am? THE Lady Ilyana D’Arcane.”

Please, let this work.

His eyes widened as realization set in. Well, he probably suspected this. He couldn’t possibly be this stupid. I watched as shock gave way to anger, his jaw clenching.

“You!” he sputtered, his voice rising. “How could you?”

He stopped abruptly, rubbing his face with his hands as if trying to erase what he’d just heard. His breathing quickened, and I could almost see the wheels turning in his mind as he processed this revelation.

My mouth dried as the weight of my next confession sat heavy on my tongue. The late afternoon sun streamed through the window, casting long shadows across the rugs in the drawing room.

“There’s more,” I forced the words out, unable to meet his eyes. “The brooch… it wasn’t me you gave it to. It was Rosalind.”

I risked a quick glance at him. The anger and betrayal had vanished from his face, replaced by an eerie stillness that made my skin crawl.

I swallowed. I had never seen him like this. He looked dangerous, not the kind gentleman I remembered.

Do I need to worry about my life now?

“I took it because…,” I swallowed hard, my rehearsed speech deserting me. “I’ve loved you for so long. Watching you with her, I just…,” I let my voice crack, summoning tears. “I was so jealous. So, I stole it from her. I know I shouldn’t have but I couldn’t stop myself.”

The silence stretched between us like a chasm. A clock ticked somewhere, marking each excruciating second.

Go ahead. Hate me.

“I understand if you want a divorce. I would, in your position,” I sniffled, dabbing at my eyes with my sleeve.

His continued silence unnerved me. Where was the rage? The denouncement?

“I’ll leave quietly,” I pressed on. “You’ll never have to see me again. I can arrange everything discreetly if you want.”

Come on. Say something.

He was quiet for a while. I held my breath for him to rage, to say how I betrayed him and how he hated me now but I wasn’t prepared for what he said next.

“No.” His voice cut through the room like ice.

His chilling demeanor sent a shiver up my spine, raising goosebumps. I looked up at him, shocked. “What? What do you mean?”

“You love me, don’t you?” His tone was flat, emotionless.

“Y-yes?” Where was he going with this?

“Then you’ll stay. Forget about divorce.”

I stared at him, my mouth hanging open most unladylike. “But after everything I did to you? To Rosa—”

“Don’t,” he slashed his hand through the air. “Don’t even speak her name.”

I took an involuntary step back. This cold, controlled anger was worse than any outburst I’d expected.

“You seem very eager to escape.” His lips curved in a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “But no. You’ve made your bed, Ilyana, and you’ll lie in it. You’re not getting out so easily.”

He turned on his heel and strode to the door, yanking it open so hard it crashed against the wall, making me jump.

I stood frozen in the middle of the drawing-room, my heart hammering against my ribs. The lavender scent that had seemed so comforting earlier now felt, suffocating as old burning rage simmered beneath my skin.

What in the seven hells just happened?

I paced the drawing room like a caged animal, my silk skirts swishing angrily against the rugs.

Laurel rushed in through the open doors, her eyes widening at my tear-stained face. My mouth twisted into an ugly snarl as the rage bubbled up inside me.

“Are you alright? What did Lord Noah say?” Laurel’s voice was careful, and gentle, as if she were approaching a wounded beast.

I couldn’t form words through the red haze of fury. Who does he think he is? He should be grateful I’m trying to help him escape this sham marriage.

“Ilyana?” Laurel tried again, taking a tentative step closer.

“He refused,” I spat, my voice trembling. “The bastard refused the divorce and said I made my bed, so I have to lie in it,” I kicked the nearest footstool, which did nothing but hurt my toe. “Ugh! As if I’m some wayward child he needs to punish!”

“What do we do now?” Laurel asked in a calm tone, waiting for me to snap out of this tantrum.

I sank onto the chaise lounge, the fight draining out of me as quickly as it had come. The late afternoon sun cast long shadows across the room, making the whole situation feel even more surreal.

It’s been a long time since I raged like this. This… it felt good to let everything out.

“I don’t know, Laurel,” I pressed my fingers to my temples. “How do you dance when your partner is a statue?”

“Maybe carry the statue to the ball?”

I sucked in a sharp breath. There. Why didn’t I think of this before? “Laurel, you’re a genius.”

Laurel looked confused.

I sprang up from the chaise with renewed energy, “Let’s go. We’re going to give Her Highness a visit.”

* * *

The palace bustled with unusual energy as I strode toward the throne room, Laurel’s footsteps echoing behind mine. The normally quiet corridors teemed with servants rushing about, their arms laden with gleaming silver trays of wine and delicacies.

I caught the sleeve of a plump maid hurrying past. “What’s all this commotion about?”

“Elenthar delegation, m’lady,” she panted, bobbing a quick curtsy. “Begging your pardon, but I must…” She gestured at her precariously balanced tray.

I released her with a nod. Ah yes, the Elentharians. How could I forget those pompous northern peacocks? A chill ran down my spine as another thought hit me. That means HE’s here too. Somewhere in Eldoria. What a disturbing thing to remember.

One crisis at a time, Ilyana. I’ll worry about that particular bag of worms later.

I shook my head and went ahead. The throne room doors stood open, late afternoon sunlight streaming through tall windows to dance across marble floors. The king wasn’t here. It was the Queen’s role to receive the guests after all. Queen Felicia held court from her throne, her silver-threaded gown catching the light as she gestured gracefully to direct servants—noble ladies clustered around her like butterflies, their colorful silks creating a living garden.

My steps faltered. This is… rather more public than I’d planned. The room was packed with both Eldorian and Elentharian nobility, their distinct styles of dress creating a stark visual divide.

“Now or never,” I muttered under my breath. Laurel squeezed my arm in silent support.

I walked towards the throne and the Queen noticed me approaching.

“Ilyana, dear!” Queen Felicia’s warm voice carried across the chamber. “Come join us.”

I plastered on my best court smile and swept into a deep curtsy. “Your Majesty, I—”

The words died in my throat as I caught sight of HIM lounging against a column near the throne. Those familiar dark eyes met mine, dancing with that same infuriating, unserious smile I remembered so well. He noticed me looking at him like a bumbling idiot and lifted his wine glass in a mock salute, taking a leisurely sip.

I sucked in a shaky breath, my mouth suddenly dry.

What in the seven hells is he doing here? My mind raced. He wasn’t supposed to be part of the delegation. Did I somehow change things again without realizing it? But how? I didn’t do anything directly or indirectly relating to him. Or did I?

My heart hammered against my ribs as his gaze held mine.

“Lady Ilyana?” The Queen’s voice snapped me out of my shock. “You were about to say something?”

I forced myself to look away from him and focus on Queen Felicia. One crisis at a time. Deal with that particular demon later.

“Yes, Your Majesty,” I swept into another curtsy, buying time to steady my voice. “I’ve come to claim the reward you so graciously offered.”

The Queen’s eyebrows rose slightly. “Of course, dear. What would you like?”

I lifted my chin, steadied my breath, and plastered a smile on my face. “I wish to divorce Lord Noah Stormbourne.”

I could still hear the words echoing through the vast room.

Were my hands shaking? Yes!

Was my mouth as dry as the desert in the south? Yes!

But did I stand down and try to make it better? Absolutely not. I made it worse.

“Yes, you heard that right. I want a divorce.”

The words hung in the air like a dropped crystal glass, waiting to shatter. Several gasps echoed through the room, followed by the delicious sound of scandalized whispers. From his spot by the column, HE kept sipping on his wine.

Well, at least someone’s enjoying this spectacle.

Queen Felicia’s face remained carefully blank, her knuckles drumming on the throne’s armrest. “That’s… quite a request, Lady Stormbourne.”

“D’Arcane,” I corrected automatically. “I prefer my maiden name, if it pleases Your Majesty.”

Gasps filled the room. Whispers followed. I could practically hear the gossip mill churning with fervor.

“Perhaps,” the Queen said slowly, “we should discuss this matter in private?”

But I wasn’t done creating chaos. “No, I want to finish this right here and right now. Besides everyone will know by sunset anyway. Might as well give them an accurate version to spread.”

But before the Queen could respond, I caught movement at the edge of my vision—Mother gliding towards me, her face a thundercloud of fury. Great. I had totally forgotten mother would be invited too.

At least Anderic, Noah, and Rosalind weren’t here to witness this spectacular family drama. Small mercies.

Mother swept into a graceful curtsy before the throne. “Your Majesty, please forgive my daughter’s… momentary lapse in judgment. The recent poisoning attempt has clearly addled her mind.”

“Mother—”

“Silence!” she hissed through clenched teeth, her fingers digging into my arm. The familiar scent of sweet perfume couldn’t mask the rage rolling off her in waves.

I opened my mouth to argue, but Queen Felicia’s voice cut through the tension like a blade.

“I agree.”

Mother’s grip went slack. My jaw dropped. Wait, what? She agreed? That easily?

She had promised me one favor.

The Queen’s lips curved into that mysterious smile I’d come to both admire and fear. “Did you not ask for a divorce, Lady D’Arcane? Consider it granted.”

The whispers around us crescendoed into a roar. Mother swayed beside me, probably calculating how many years of social climbing I’d just demolished in five minutes.

Queen Felicia clapped her hands, the sound echoing off the marble columns. “Now, everyone, back to the festivities! I believe Lord Callum and I were about to discuss something?”

As the crowd reluctantly dispersed, the Queen caught my eye. There was something in her gaze—amusement? Approval? Or was I hallucinating?

Before I could enjoy my newfound freedom my mother’s delicate fingers dug into my arm with surprising strength as she dragged me into what appeared to be an unused sitting room. In the late afternoon sunlight streaming through tall windows, dust motes danced lazily. The room smelled of furniture polish and disuse.

“Stand guard outside, Laurel,” Mother barked. My poor maid shot me a sympathetic glance before closing the heavy oak door. Or am I the poor one here?

Mother whirled on me, her face flushed with fury. Her carefully styled hair was coming loose, wisps escaping to frame her face. I’d never seen her this undone.

Sigh. This is going to be long.

“Do you have any idea what you’ve done?” she hissed. “Why even get married if you can’t even handle a little disagreement in marriage?”

“A little disagreement?” I scoffed, “It’s not like you don’t know what we did. You won’t understand anyway. It’s already in the past.”

“Then help me understand! Years of careful planning, alliances, connections - all destroyed because you decided to throw a tantrum in front of the entire court!”

I raised an eyebrow. “A tantrum? Mother, I simply asked for what I wanted. Directly. Like you taught me.”

“I taught you subtlety and grace, not… whatever that display was!” She paced the worn carpet, her skirts swishing. “The Queen may have granted your request, but at what cost? Our reputation—”

“Our reputation was doomed anyway,” I cut in. “At least this way, we control the narrative.”

Mother stopped pacing and stared at me like I’d grown a second head. “Control the… Ilyana, have you completely lost your mind?”

Oh right, our downfall hasn’t started yet.

I sigh, “Never mind. What I wanted to—”

“No.” Mother shook her head as she grabbed both my hands, “Come on, let’s go.”

I put my foot down and didn’t move an inch. “Go where?”

“We can still change this. You’ll just apologize and we’ll say—”

“You want me to do what?” I stared at my mother, incredulous.

“Apologize to your husband and the Queen. We can still salvage this situation.” Mother’s lips trembled. “Tell them you were overcome with emotion, that the poison affected your judgment.”

I barked out a laugh. “The poison enhanced my judgment, if anything.”

“Ilyana!” Mother pressed her fingers to her temples. “Think of our family name.”

“I am thinking of our family.” More than you know. “This marriage was a mistake from the start. And you know what we did for this marriage. It’s bound to get out later. We should just save ourselves before it’s too late.”

The musty room felt suffocating, dust motes swirling in the afternoon light like tiny accusers. Mother’s expensive perfume couldn’t mask the stale air.

“A mistake?” Her voice rose. “Marrying into the Stormbourne family was the pinnacle of our social achievements! Doesn’t matter what we had to do. And didn’t you love him? Do you know how many families would kill for such an alliance?”

“ Kill being the operative word here,” I muttered.

Mother’s face turned an interesting shade of purple. “What has gotten into you? First the bizarre behavior at breakfast, then drinking the Queen’s wine, and now this spectacle?”

“Maybe I’m tired of pretending,” I examined my nails, feigning nonchalance. “Maybe I want more than being Noah’s consolation prize.”

“Consolation—” Mother cut herself off, inhaling sharply. “Is this about that Bellrose girl?”

“Among other things.” Like preventing our entire family’s execution, but who’s counting?

“Then we’ll deal with her! There are ways to remove such… obstacles.” Mother’s eyes gleamed with frantic calculation.

“No!” The word exploded from me. “Are you even listening to what you’ve just said? That’s exactly what I don’t want. No more schemes, no more plots.”

“Since when did you become so… soft?” She spat the word like poison.

“Since I realized where all this plotting leads,” I gestured around us. “Look at us, Mother. Really look. We’re destroying ourselves and others for what? A better seat at dinner parties? This is not us. This is not you . Look deep inside you, mother. You don’t want to be this… this vicious woman. I know this.” I had learned so much about her during our exile.

For a moment mother looked like she was contemplating my words and I thought it worked but then mother’s face hardened. “You sound just like your father when he’s had too much wine. All philosophy and no sense.”

“Better that than no conscience at all.”

The slap echoed in the dusty room. My cheek stung, but I didn’t flinch.

“How dare you?” Mother’s voice shook. “Everything I’ve done, I’ve done for this family. For you!”

“And I’m trying to save what’s left of it,” I touched my cheek. “Whether you understand that or not.”

“Save it?” She laughed bitterly. “You’ve just destroyed everything we’ve built. Years of careful maneuvering, gone because you’ve decided to play at being righteous?”

“Mother—”

“No.” She held up her hand. “If you go through with this divorce, don’t bother coming home. The D’Arcane mansion’s doors will be closed to you. Forever.”

I swallowed hard. Even knowing this might happen, the words still cut deep. “You’d choose social standing over your own daughter?”

“My daughter?” Her laugh was brittle. “My daughter died the moment she chose to throw away everything I’ve given her. I don’t know who you are anymore.”

If only you knew.

She straightened her spine, every inch the aristocrat despite her disheveled appearance. “Make your choice, Ilyana. Your family or this… whatever this is.”

I met her gaze steadily. “I already have.”

The silence stretched between us like a chasm, filled with years of expectations and disappointments. Finally, Mother turned toward the door, her skirts rustling against the worn carpet.

“Then you are no daughter of mine.”

The door closed behind her with a soft click that somehow hurt more than if she’d slammed it. I sank into a dusty chair, wondering if saving my family meant losing them first.

A spider crawled across the window, its web catching the late afternoon sun. At least someone’s building something in this room.