Chapter 71
30k views and 1.3k votes-wow!! ??
I'm honestly so humbled by all the love you're showing Cassiane and her chaotic little team.
As a thank you, here's another chapter for you today!
I also finished editing it early, and when it comes to Not the Villain, this author has the patience of a chihuahua on espresso. ??
So, enjoy!
The heavy wooden doors to Archmage Theodore's private office were already standing ajar when I reached the top of the stairwell.
I stepped inside, expecting to find Rhaevan waiting by the entrance.
Instead, he was standing at the edge of the large oak desk, leaning forward with both hands planted on the polished surface.
The leather scroll we had brought back from the inn was unrolled between them, held down by heavy brass paperweights.
Theo looked graver than I had ever seen him.
The moment the door creaked beneath my hand, Rhaevan's head snapped toward me. For one brief, suspended second, his dark eyes met mine, sharp, intense, and unreadable.
Then, just as quickly, he looked away, fixing his gaze back on the map spread across the desk.
What's wrong with him? Him and his mood swings. He was fine a while ago.
The brief silence stung more than it should have. I pushed the feeling down and stepped up to the desk beside him.
"Did I miss anything important?" I asked, forcing a light tone into my voice. "Or are we just staring dramatically at parchment today?"
Neither of them laughed. Definitely a war council.
"Cassiane," Theo said softly, gesturing for me to look at the scroll. "Come here."
I stepped closer, glancing at the dark ink sketch of the crooked dagger and the strange, thorned symbol carved into its handle. "So, the weapon Albert mentioned. What about it?"
"It's not just the weapon. It's the people who wield the weapons. We had our suspicions about the attack, and we have an eyewitness now." Rhaevan's voice was clipped and hollow. "It confirms our worst fears regarding who organized the ambush."
"Care to share with the rest of the class?" I asked, looking between the two of them. "Who owns the terrible dagger?"
"The symbol belongs to The Veiled Thorn," Theo explained, his voice low and measured. "A faction of rogue mages and shadow operatives known for experimenting with corrupted, ancient magic."
The Veiled Thorn? That's their terrifying name? It sounds like a support group for runaway brides plotting revenge on their ex-fiancés.
And that nasty-voiced lady is their spokesperson? With that voice? She sounds like she gargles broken glass every morning.
I was so busy giggling at my inner monologue that I didn't notice the two pairs of eyes staring at me. It took me a good while to stop giggling. When I finally managed to compose myself, I wiped a tear from the corner of my eye and looked between Rhaevan and Theo.
Neither of them had so much as cracked a smile.
Their expressions remained perfectly serious.
"Oh, sorry... Carry on," I muttered.
Theo let out a long, weary sigh, looking as though he had finally run out of patience with me.
"Cassiane, remember the attack during the festival? The monster that tried to kill you?" His expression hardened. "That was their doing."
He paused before continuing.
"For months now, we've been receiving reports of innocent wild animals found dead, their bodies subjected to brutal dark magic and twisted into grotesque, unrecognizable forms. The Veiled Thorn has been using them as test subjects, experimenting with corrupted magic.
We've been tracking them for months, but every lead has gone cold. Either they leave behind false trails, or they're exceptionally skilled at covering their tracks."
Theo's gaze darkened.
"But they've stopped hiding. They've begun operating openly, attacking civilians without hesitation. Their magic is no longer pure. It is corrupted, dark, volatile, and immensely powerful."
I frowned, remembering the suffocating aura that had poured from the woman in the alleyway. The oppressive darkness. The strike that had nearly killed Lucien.
"Corrupted magic," I murmured. "That fits the woman who attacked us. Her power felt... rotten."
"It is," Theo replied grimly. "And for years, The Veiled Thorn wandered the continent as mercenaries, selling their services to the highest bidder. But recently..." His voice grew heavier. "They found a permanent patron."
He tapped a finger against a region on the map marked by jagged mountain ranges and thick black ink, the kingdom bordering both Eryndor and Viremont.
"Varynthar?" I read aloud.
"Varynthar was once a peaceful realm," Theo said, leaning back in his chair.
"A quiet kingdom known for its scholars and merchants. But after the old king passed away years ago, his son, King Malakor Claude, ascended the throne. Since then, everything has changed. He is tyrannical, deeply paranoid, and obsessed with expanding his empire."
"And he hired an army of evil cultists?" I asked dryly. "Sounds lovely."
"Worse," Rhaevan said, his voice cutting through the room.
His eyes had grown noticeably darker. "He didn't merely hire them. He welcomed them into his inner court. He is using The Veiled Thorn to quietly infiltrate neighboring kingdoms, smuggling magical beasts across borders, hunting forbidden bloodlines, and gathering intelligence on military defenses."
A cold weight settled in the pit of my stomach.
"The mercenaries who kidnapped you," Rhaevan continued, "were never ordinary bandits seeking ransom. They were working for The Veiled Thorn. Their original mission was to abduct Princess Lysenne and Prince Lucien, throwing both Eryndor's and Viremont's royal courts into chaos.
But then they found you... and realized you possessed ancient magic."
"...So they chose to attack me," I finished quietly.
Theo rested both hands on the desk, his expression grave.
"They've already slipped deep into both Eryndor and Viremont. They're operating beneath our very noses, using border inns, hidden routes, and underground networks. Which means..." He let the words hang for a moment. "Both kingdoms are now under immediate threat of war."
The room fell into a heavy, suffocating silence.
My eyes dropped to the map, following the borders that divided the kingdoms before drifting to Rhaevan's unreadable face.
The problem was suddenly so much bigger than me.
Bigger than my stolen identity.
Bigger than surviving as the supposed villainess.
What fantastic shit!
I had been preparing for jealous noble ladies and awkward romantic misunderstandings.
Nobody mentioned homicidal cults with imperial ambitions and body counts.
Honestly, could this story make up its mind?