Why Did I Reincarnate as the Heroine When I Wanted to Be a Villainess?

Chapter 92: Chapter 92 — "This Idiot and I"

The grand hall of Valois mansion had never seen anything like this.

Which was saying something.

Because the Valois family had hosted three generations of noble ceremonies inside it.

But nothing quite like this.

The hall was full.

Completely full.

Nobles from three separate regions.

Four suitors who had submitted formal proposals.

Two diplomatic representatives.

One crown prince.

Several important merchants.

Approximately forty people who had simply heard something was happening and inserted themselves.

And one very confused crow sitting on a chandelier.

Tax looked down at the crowd below.

Then at the Valois family crest on the wall.

Then at the chandelier he was sitting on.

Which was solid gold.

He looked at it for a long time.

"hehehehe."

A small sound.

Private.

Deeply satisfied.

His boss was rich.

Extremely rich.

Embarrassingly rich.

The kind of rich that had gold chandeliers.

Tax had excellent taste in employers.

Daren stood near the back wall.

He had been standing near the back wall for twenty minutes.

Looking at the ceiling.

Then the floor.

Then the ceiling again.

Then at Rowan beside him.

"Rowan."

"Hm."

"That chandelier."

"Yes."

"Is that actual gold."

Rowan looked at it.

The particular look of a merchant calculating value automatically.

"Yes."

Daren looked at the chandelier for a long time.

Then at the hall around them.

The marble floors.

The silk curtains.

The portraits of noble ancestors going back centuries.

The staff moving with practiced efficiency.

The flower arrangements alone probably cost more than their entire journey’s budget.

"Rowan."

"Hm."

"We carried her through a forest."

"Yes."

"She ate road food."

"Yes."

"She complained about money."

"Yes."

"She almost stole a wagon."

"Almost."

Daren looked at him.

"She has a gold chandelier."

Rowan looked at the chandelier again.

Something moved across his merchant’s expression.

The particular expression of someone recalculating an entire relationship.

"Yes."

Daren turned back to the ceiling.

"I feel personally deceived."

"You weren’t deceived."

"I feel it emotionally."

"That’s different."

"It feels the same."

Rowan said nothing.

Because he also felt it.

Slightly.

The girl who had counted coins after a storytelling competition.

Who had fed Atlas from their shared budget.

Who had said money with the reverence of someone who didn’t have enough of it.

Had a gold chandelier.

Tax landed on Daren’s shoulder.

"hehehehe."

Daren looked at him.

"You knew."

"Obviously."

"This whole time."

"Obviously."

"And you said nothing."

Tax looked deeply unbothered.

"You never asked."

Daren pointed at the chandelier.

"HOW WAS I SUPPOSED TO KNOW TO ASK ABOUT THE CHANDELIER."

Several nearby nobles turned.

Rowan immediately looked at a painting.

Tax flew back to the chandelier.

Still laughing.

Lord Aldric Valois stood near the entrance.

Watching the assembled crowd.

His expression was the particular neutral expression of a man who had not wanted this ceremony to happen and had been overruled by circumstances.

Crown Prince Cassian Astor stood nearby.

Dark blue hair.

Immaculate uniform.

The composed expression of someone who had spent three weeks searching roads for an unconscious silver-haired girl and was now standing in her family’s grand hall pretending that was completely normal.

He looked at the entrance.

Then at Lord Valois.

"She’s late."

Lord Valois looked at him.

"She’s always late."

A pause.

"It’s intentional."

Cassian looked at the entrance again.

Something moved in his expression.

Briefly.

"I know."

Lord Valois studied him for one moment.

Then looked away.

Saying nothing.

Which was its own kind of answer.

Kael stood near the side wall.

Not among the suitors.

Not among the family.

Somewhere between both.

Which was accurate.

He looked like he had recovered enough to stand properly and had decided that was sufficient.

His parents stood nearby.

His mother was watching the room with the expression of someone cataloguing everything.

His father was watching Kael specifically.

Marcus Arden looked at his son.

Then at the entrance.

Then back at his son.

His expression remained neutral.

But his eyes said something.

Kael noticed.

"Don’t."

He said quietly.

"I didn’t say anything."

"You were about to."

His mother made a sound beside them.

Not quite a laugh.

Kael looked at her.

She was looking at the entrance.

Completely innocent.

"Mother."

"Hm."

"Don’t."

"I’m simply standing here."

"You’re doing the face."

"I don’t have a face."

"You absolutely have a face."

His father looked at the ceiling.

The particular look of a man who had learned when not to participate.

The murmur in the hall shifted.

Slightly.

Then more.

Then the doors opened.

And the room became noticeably quieter.

Not silent.

Quieter.

The particular quiet of people who had been talking and suddenly found something more interesting.

Seraphina Valois walked in.

The dress was black at the base.

Deep.

Absolute.

The kind of black that didn’t apologize for itself.

Blue ran through it like veins.

Not pale blue.

Dark blue.

The color of deep water at night.

Crimson accents along the edges.

Sharp.

Deliberate.

Like something that had decided to be dangerous and committed completely.

The cut was structured.

Elegant.

But with an edge that had nothing to do with traditional noble fashion.

Something that said I know exactly what I’m doing and I want you to know I know.

On her right hand she wore a single custom glove.

Black silk.

The Valois crest embroidered along the back.

But redesigned.

Not the traditional careful crest.

Something sharper.

The lines more dangerous.

The crimson thread catching light in ways that made it look almost alive.

She walked like someone who had decided the room belonged to her.

Not arrogantly.

Just.

Obviously.

Tax looked down from the chandelier.

His chest puffed immediately.

"hehehehe."

The sound was extremely private and extremely satisfied.

That was his boss.

His extremely rich boss.

Who looked like the villain of someone else’s story.

Perfect.

Absolutely perfect.

Daren stared.

Then turned to Rowan.

Rowan was already looking.

His expression doing the calculation thing again.

"Rowan."

"Hm."

"That’s the same person."

"Yes."

"Who complained about the price of bread."

"Yes."

Daren looked back at Seraphina entering the hall.

"I feel like I’ve been living in a different genre."

Rowan said nothing.

Because he felt it too.

Seraphina’s eyes moved across the room.

Taking inventory.

The way she always did.

Fast.

Complete.

She clocked every suitor.

Every noble.

Cassian near her father.

Kael near the side wall.

Tax on the chandelier.

Daren and Rowan near the back looking personally betrayed by her existence.

She immediately pointed at them.

Across the entire hall.

"I see you."

Daren pointed back.

"GOLD CHANDELIER."

Several nobles turned.

Rowan covered his face.

Seraphina grinned.

The real one.

The first completely real one since the dead garden.

Something settled in the room.

Like it had been waiting for exactly that.

Her mother appeared beside her.

Elena Valois.

Looking immaculate.

Looking slightly resigned.

Leaning close.

"Ahina."

"Yes."

"This is a formal ceremony."

"Obviously."

"You just pointed across the hall."

"I was greeting people."

"That’s not how you greet people."

"It’s how I greet people."

Her mother closed her eyes briefly.

One second.

Then opened them.

Walked forward.

Accepting her fate.

Lord Valois watched this exchange.

Then looked at Cassian.

"She’s exactly the same."

Cassian was looking at Seraphina.

Something in his expression that he was managing very carefully.

"Yes."

He said quietly.

"She is."

The ceremony began properly.

Which meant the suitors began.

The first was a duke’s heir.

Formal.

Practiced.

He presented his case with the confidence of someone who had rehearsed it.

Seraphina listened.

Nodded at appropriate moments.

Then said:

"No cap but this sounds lowkey like a business merger."

The duke’s heir stopped.

"I."

"What."

She nodded thoughtfully.

"The energy is very contractual."

Nearby nobles whispered.

None of them understood the words.

All of them understood the tone.

The duke’s heir sat down.

The second suitor was a foreign royal representative.

He spoke for four minutes about his kingdom’s alliance potential.

Seraphina looked interested throughout.

Then said:

"Slay but no."

He also sat down.

The third was a wealthy merchant family’s eldest son.

He brought gifts.

Actual physical gifts.

Carried in by servants.

Seraphina looked at the gifts.

Then at him.

"These are bussin ngl."

He brightened.

"But still no."

He stopped brightening.

Tax watched from the chandelier.

"ehehe."

Lord Valois had the expression of a man watching something he couldn’t stop and had decided to document internally for future reflection.

Elena Valois had the expression of a woman who loved her daughter completely and was also very tired.

Then Cassian stepped forward.

The room shifted immediately.

Crown Prince.

The weight of that title filling the space.

He looked at Seraphina directly.

Not performing.

Not formal.

Just looking.

"Seraphina."

She met his eyes.

For a moment neither spoke.

The room held its breath.

Cassian’s expression was composed.

But underneath it—

Something genuine.

Something that had been genuine since the academy.

Since he’d watched her threaten a family’s financial future to protect a servant girl.

Since he’d noticed the way Kael automatically adjusted her sleeve without thinking.

Since he’d understood immediately what he was looking at.

He smiled slightly.

The real smile.

Not the composed prince one.

"I looked for you for three weeks."

He said.

Quietly enough that only the nearest people heard.

"I know."

She said.

His expression did something complicated.

"I think you already know what I’d like to ask."

Seraphina looked at him.

Her golden eyes steady.

"Cassian."

"Yes."

"You’re genuinely."

A pause.

"Not bad."

He almost laughed.

Almost.

"That’s not a yes."

"No."

"It’s not."

She said.

Something passed between them.

Not romantic.

Not cruel.

Honest.

The particular honesty of two people who had always understood each other clearly.

Cassian inclined his head slightly.

A small movement.

Dignified.

Real.

Then stepped back.

The room breathed again.

Daren had both hands over his mouth.

Rowan was very carefully looking at a different painting.

Tax watched from above.

His expression said everything he wasn’t saying out loud.

Which was considerable.

Then Seraphina turned.

Looked across the room.

Found Kael near the side wall.

He was already looking at her.

Of course he was.

He always was.

His expression was doing the neutral thing.

The careful neutral thing.

That wasn’t actually neutral at all.

She walked toward him.

The room watched.

Curious.

Uncertain.

Not understanding yet.

Kael watched her approach.

His expression became slightly more careful.

Which meant he was becoming slightly more concerned.

"Aina."

His voice came out quiet.

Warning.

"What are you doing."

She stopped directly in front of him.

Looked up at him.

Then at the room watching.

Then back at him.

"Hold still."

"Aina."

"Hold."

"What are you—"

She leaned up.

And pressed her lips to his cheek.