Chapter 39 Brainwashing the Villainess
I don't know how the real Ilse will react to that. As Anna, I really Mad. How dare he sell his own daughter just for his business. I'm not surprised the original Ilse behaves like that.
The image of that file, Julian Vance, target: Marriage! was burnt into the mind. If I didn't wreck the original plot, Ilse's father was going to chain me to that psychopath before the season was out. I needed a distraction. A big one.
I needed to break up Gisella and Prince Didier. Permanently.
I caught up with Gisella at the royal garden, where she was busy picking roses and sighing like a lovesick puppy. She looked perfect, as always, and that was exactly why this was going to be so easy.
"Still waiting for him?" I asked, leaning against the trellis.
She jumped, smoothing her dress. "Ilse! You scared me. And yes, Didier said he might pass by if the carriage inspection finishes early."
I rolled my eyes. "The inspections are a nightmare. You know, for a woman with your... presence, you spend a lot of time standing around in the dirt waiting for a man who treats scheduling like a military operation."
She frowned, confused. "He's a Prince, Ilse. He has duties."
"Sure. Duties." I walked around her, circling like a shark.
"But look at you. You're wearing the latest silk from the southern trade routes. Your jewelry costs more than the royal guard's annual budget. And you're spending your youth waiting for a guy who thinks 'romance' is a pat on the head and a lecture on economics."
"Gisella bristled, her eyes flashing. "He's just... polite to other, i hope. It's duty."
"Duty? Is that what we're calling it?" I scoffed.
"You're a masterpiece. You're vibrant, you're rich, and you're the most talked-about woman in high society. Didier doesn't want a partner. He wants an ornament. He wants someone to sit quietly at his side while he stares at maps and pines after someone else. Don't you want to be seen?
Don't you want someone who actually knows that a woman like you deserves a scandal, not a schedule?"
Gisella's composure didn't just crack; it shattered. Her face went from pale to a dangerous shade of crimson in a heartbeat. The "perfect lady" act fell away like dead skin.
"Do you think I'm stupid?" she spat, her voice trembling with a rage she'd been bottling up for months. "Do you think I don't see it? Every gala, every banquet... the way he looks at her, the way he touches her hand while he thinks I'm busy with the Queen."
She grabbed a porcelain teacup from the garden table and hurled it against the stone wall. It shattered into a thousand jagged pieces. She was breathing hard, her hands shaking, her perfectly styled hair starting to fray.
"I have played the fool for so long, Ilse! I bite my tongue until it bleeds, I smile when I want to scream, and I pretend I don't notice that he's obsessed with Lysandra! Because that is what a fiancée does, isn't it? We tolerate the insults!"
She looked at me, her eyes wet with furious, bitter tears. "But you're right. He treats me like a piece of furniture he's already paid for. And I... I hate it. I hate him for making me look like a pathetic, blind idiot in front of the entire kingdom."
I let her vent, watching the dam break. This was better than I expected. She wasn't just hurting anymore; she was humiliated. And humiliation makes people do stupid, wonderful things.
"Then stop being the furniture," I said softly, stepping closer. "Don't let him have the satisfaction of thinking you're oblivious. He's taking you for granted because he thinks you'll be there forever, waiting by the rosebushes. You need to remind him that you're a human not a statue."
She wiped her eyes, her expression hardening into something sharp and dangerous. The hurt was gone, replaced by a cold, calculated entitlement.
"So, what do I do?" she asked, her voice turning icy.
I shrugged, like it didn't matter. "Find someone else. Someone... unpredictable. Someone who makes Didier look like the boring bureaucrat he is. Show him that you've got options. Make him realize that if he keeps acting like a statue, he's going to lose you to someone much more interesting."
Gisella stood up straighter. She kicked a piece of the broken teacup into the grass. "Someone more challenging, you mean?"
"Someone who makes the whole court hold their breath," I confirmed.
A slow, nasty smile spread across her face. It was the smile of a woman who had just realized she was the main character and she was done playing a supporting role.
"You're right, Ilse," she purred. "I'm bored to death with this. Let's go find someone who knows how to make a girl feel alive. Didier is going to hate it."
I watched her walk away, my heart hammering. It was working. I had just set the match, and now, I just had to make sure the explosion wouldn't blow me up along with them.