Living As the Villainess Queen

Lost in contemplation, Eugene stared at the notebook, its pages devoid of new characters. She pondered how Flora might navigate the current confusion enveloping her. Confronted with the unsettling realization that her once-believed justice was tainted with malevolence, Flora would soon face a pivotal choice: to acknowledge her error or descend into villainy.

“Regardless, I hope Flora remains untangled from this conflict,” Eugene murmured to herself.

Closing the notebook, she exited her study into the adjoining parlor, where only a solitary sofa occupied a corner. Presently serving as a makeshift research space, the room lacked any significant furnishings.

Magic circles varied in size according to their purpose. Those employed in crafting magical notes were diminutive, fitting comfortably in one’s palm, whereas those intended for transportation enchantments, such as those Flora left in her hotel room, spanned wide enough to accommodate multiple individuals.

To facilitate her research, Eugene devised a solution for easier access. Using a white marble slab laid upon the parlor floor, she meticulously recreated Flora’s portable magic circles in size and form, using black paint. These replicas, however, were imbued with charcoal powder, rendering them inert—what practitioners termed “dead magic.” Adrit had enlightened her on this ancient technique, used by tribes of old to depict magic circles without activating them during study.

Amongst the black lines of the replicated circles, traces of Eugene’s study were evident, with numerous red lines and scribbled annotations adorning the surface.

Eugene moved with deliberate steps around the magic circles, absorbing the notes she had penned. The deeper she delved into magic, the more entrancing it became. Initially, she felt confident in her grasp of the subject, yet with each revisit, new interpretations emerged, accompanied by perplexing queries.

This part here is a connecting link. This side is a path, and this side is blocked.

Seating herself on the floor, a crimson pencil gripped in hand, Eugene annotated newfound insights onto the magic circle. As she etched, a cascade of ideas flooded her mind, compelling her to record them onto the floor.

Just as she poised the pencil to mark a revelation, Eugene’s brow furrowed at a sudden movement.

“Alright, alright, I’ll stop,” she chuckled softly, soothing the stirring in her belly, then relinquished the pencil. She had come to discern that the baby’s movements weren’t uniform; she could discern between playful kicks and expressive wriggles.

Should Eugene maintain a posture that pressed against her belly for too long, the baby would convey discomfort from within. Ignoring the signal once before, she had felt the vigorous kick that followed.

When the baby stirred within her, Eugene would jest, “What’s the matter?” with a grin. From its early behavior, it seemed her future son wouldn’t possess an ordinary temperament. Given her penchant for favorable destinies, she presumed his obstinacy was already assured.

Well, he’ll inherit that from his father, won’t he?

Occasionally forgetting due to her husband’s gentle demeanor, Eugene remembered that Kasser was anything but easygoing. Even Marianne, who had raised him, found him challenging, a realization that often struck her.

As Eugene attempted to rise, the maids hurried to her aid, offering support. With their assistance, she settled onto the sofa, allowing her belly to be fully exposed. Contentedly, the baby stirred within her.

“You mischievous little one. Are you trying to keep Mom lazy?”

Her hand caressed her belly gently as she scolded, eliciting a kick in response from the baby.

“Didn’t Dad warn you about tiring Mommy out?”

This time, her belly remained tranquil. Though it might have been mere coincidence, it felt as though she were conversing with her unborn child, prompting her to laugh.

Eugene retrieved the magic notebook from the pouch always fastened to her waist. Its presence provided a measure of solace, diminishing the weight of his absence. The knowledge that she could communicate with him at any moment brought her comfort.

As she stumbled upon a new entry in the notebook, Eugene’s expression darkened. Adjusting her posture, she perused the message from Kasser.

[I’ve traversed the mountains overnight and am now passing through Slan. If all goes well, I should reach the outskirts of the capital within two days. Are you faring well without any difficulties? Do not reply.]

“So, he concludes with ‘do not reply,'” Eugene murmured, a tinge of disappointment coloring her tone. Though Kasser dutifully updated her daily on his progress, the ending of his messages remained consistent.

Despite appreciating his efforts to minimize their reliance on magic notebooks, Eugene couldn’t shake the loneliness of receiving his messages one-sidedly. Today, she resolved to break the pattern, picking up a pen.

[We’re both doing fine. It feels surreal knowing we’re nearing the capital. Stay safe. My prayers are with you every day.]

While Eugene wrote in the magic notebook, Kasser continued his journey, discovering her message hours later. A smile graced his lips as he read her words repeatedly. The prospect of returning to his wife and child after the trials ahead imbued him with a sense of invincibility, as if he wore the strongest armor in the world.

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