Chapter 53 | How to Not Get Executed as an Otome Game Villainess

When Waters walked in, several people were already sitting around the long table.

Out of habit, he scanned the room—the President's seat was empty, the Vice President's seat was empty, and at the Secretary's seat sat a boy with silver-framed glasses, his head lowered as he flipped through a thick document.

His deep green hair was combed meticulously, and his shirt collar was buttoned all the way up.

Meretskov.

(Voiceover: He was also one of the original male leads in the otome game.)

This was the Secretary, a second-year student.

Truth be told, Waters didn't know much about him, only that he came from a count family in the eastern part of the kingdom, had absurdly excellent grades, had never fallen out of the top three in his year since enrolling, and was extremely meticulous. It was said that none of the documents he handled had ever contained a single error.

During his weeks in the student council, all of the words Waters had spoken to Meretskov combined amounted to fewer than ten sentences.

And each one was a brief exchange along the lines of “Understood,” “Got it,” or “I'll get right on it.”

It wasn't that Meretskov was hard to get along with—on the contrary, he was gentle with everyone. When he spoke, he would look you right in the eye, nod slightly after listening to you, and then give a clear response.

But this very gentleness made Waters feel like he wasn't real.

It was as if there were a transparent shell around him that kept everyone at a certain distance; you could see him, you could talk to him, but you could never truly reach him.

Hearing footsteps, Meretskov looked up and gave Waters and Leonard a slight nod.

“Good afternoon,” he said gently.

Then, he pushed up his silver-wired glasses. The retro chain dangled over his shoulder, emphasizing his noble temperament.

With slender fingers, he elegantly brushed his meticulously styled emerald-green hair behind his ear.

“Good afternoon,” Waters and Leonard replied in unison, “Secretary.”

Meretskov said nothing more and went back to flipping through his documents.

Waters and Leonard sat down near the middle of the long table, placing their paper bags at their feet. Leonard fished an apple out of his bag, wiped it with his sleeve, and began working on his lunch, which he was only now finding time for after a busy day.

After a short while, more people filed in one after another.

Ignoring those upperclassmen with thunderous reputations, Waters's focus was primarily on the first-year students who were of the same age as him.

The first to walk in was Isabel von Mecklinger.

She was wearing the deep blue uniform of the Magic Department. Her face was pale, and her lips held very little color, immediately giving off a frail, sickly aura, though it also carried a fragile sort of beauty.

One couldn't help but want to look after her.

She was another unique existence among the first-years in the Magic Department—possessing a Level Eight mana capacity, she had been frail and sickly since childhood. This was both a family curse and a source of the kingdom's prestige, and rumor had it she wouldn't live past the age of twenty-five.

Waters watched her walk inside.

Meretskov stood up like a gentleman and pulled out the chair next to him.

Somewhat flattered by the gesture, Isabel nodded to him gratefully before sitting down.

Meretskov pushed a document in front of her and whispered a few words. After listening, Isabel opened the document with a focused and serious expression.

Watching this play out, Waters thought to himself that the relationship between the two was actually better than the rumors suggested—though in truth, it was only because Isabel was the Assistant Secretary, and since Meretskov was the student council's Secretary, she was simply consulting him.

Then, the door to the conference room was pushed open once more.

The big shot had arrived.

When the door swung open, a faint floral fragrance drifted in first, mingled with the warm scent of the afternoon sun.

Pale gold twin drills, emerald-green eyes, and features as delicate as a doll's—the deep blue uniform of the Magic Department fit her as perfectly as a custom-tailored gown, the silver trim on her collar neatly fastened.

Loris von Aldheim.

The moment she stepped inside, the very air in the room seemed to shift.

It wasn't tension—it was more like... how to put it? As if someone had flipped a switch, everyone's attention was irresistibly drawn to her.

Even Waters felt his breath hitch slightly as he watched her walk in.

She was beautiful.

And then, he couldn't help but feel a bit intimidated.

It wasn't out of pure infatuation; he held none of those feelings toward Miss Aldheim. He merely admired her appearance, and besides, he was no masochist... This young noble lady's fearsome reputation preceded her.

Such an imposing presence.

When she walked in, she didn't cast a single glance at anyone, looking straight ahead with a haughty air. Her steps were neither fast nor slow, her leather shoes making a crisp tapping sound against the floor.

Everything looked completely normal.

But then Waters noticed a tiny detail: the seat Loris chose was separated from the President's seat by several empty chairs, whether to avoid gossip or simply to maintain decorum.

After a moment, Liliana and Waldenburg also walked in.

Liliana led the way, her pale pink hair glowing softly in the afternoon light. Her face wore a tense, “Am I late?” expression.

Waldenburg walked behind her, his steps steady and his expression as deadpan as ever.

As he entered, his eyes swept over the room, pausing briefly on Loris before shifting away.

He walked over to the other side of the long table.

Liliana followed him to the table, glanced at the seating arrangement, hesitated for a moment, and chose a seat close to the Secretary's desk.

As she sat down, she nodded to Isabel in greeting. It seemed the two of them were on quite good terms as well.

“You're here?”

“Yes, I was held up by a few things just now...”

Beside Liliana was Loris. After sitting down, Liliana offered a reserved smile, and as expected, Miss Aldheim merely gave a brief, faint nod.

Clearly, the three of them were the most dazzling figures among the first-years. In a few years, this generation and those after them would have to support the royal capital's academy, just like the President and his peers did now.

Waters continued to observe with relish.

Liliana pulled out her pen and notebook; Liliana waited patiently; Liliana let her mind wander slightly.

He couldn't help but think to himself that this commoner girl was actually far more... ordinary than he had imagined.

In truth, most of Waters's knowledge of Liliana came from rumors.

On the first day of enrollment, she had bumped into Loris in the lobby and was publicly humiliated before Crown Prince Leonhart stepped in to rescue her.

This sequence of events was widely circulated among the first-years. Waters had heard at least two or three versions of it, but the core details were mostly the same—the Crown Prince playing the hero saving the beauty, and the commoner girl falling in love at first sight.

When he first heard this rumor, his first reaction was: Well, well, a classic knight novel plot.

His second reaction was: This commoner is probably in for a rough time.

After all, His Highness the Crown Prince already had a fiancée, and she was none other than the Tyrant Daughter of the Aldheim family.

If Liliana truly harbored feelings for Leonhart, her situation would be incredibly delicate—on one side was the Crown Prince who favored her (at least, according to the rumors), and on the other was a fiancée who saw her as a thorn in her side.

A plot like this could easily span three or four acts in a capital city soap opera.

Thinking of all those messy rumors, Waters instinctively glanced at Liliana.

She was currently looking down at her notebook, her pale pink hair falling past her ear. From Waters's angle, he could only see a small, fair patch of her neck and her slightly pursed lips.

She was beautiful, not at all inferior to Miss Loris.

If... Waters suddenly found himself pondering.

If I were the Crown Prince, how would I choose? On one hand, there's the villainous daughter, Loris—though she has a terrible personality, her family background is prestigious. On the other hand, there's the commoner, Liliana—she's incredibly considerate, but her family background is lacking.

First of all, without a doubt, both of them would surely be willing—willing to be with him.

A commoner girl, entirely friendless and alone in the royal capital, was publicly humiliated by the eldest daughter of a ducal house. At her most mortifying moment, His Highness the Crown Prince appeared, defused the situation with a gentle tone, and even asked with genuine concern, “Are you alright?”

In any story, this would be the classic scene where the female protagonist falls in love with the male protagonist at first sight.

As for Miss Aldheim, his childhood friend betrothed to him since the age of nine, what reason would she have to refuse him?

Waters suddenly found himself torn.

Both sides are so good, how on earth is one supposed to choose?

But suddenly, his friend Leonard beside him gave him a nudge. With the arrival of the President, Waters was jolted back to reality, realizing the massive gulf between those two prominent figures and himself...

He was merely an executive officer. His job was field work and sorting paperwork, not analyzing the love lives of these great figures.

“Is everyone here?”

A clear, bright voice echoed from the doorway.

Waters looked up.

Leonhart von Edelstein stood at the threshold of the conference room. Clad in the white uniform of the Swordsmanship Department, his golden hair shone with a soft luster under the afternoon light, and his ice-blue eyes swept across everyone in the room.

His expression was gentle and calm, as if nothing in the world could ever cause him to knit his brows.

Following closely behind him was the Vice President.

Reinhardt von Schwarz, a third-year student. He was a tall, silent blonde boy who reportedly possessed a powerful family background and exceptional strength, yet his presence was so incredibly faint that Waters sometimes forgot he was even a member of the student council.

Leonhart walked over and sat down in the President's seat, his movements as fluid as if he had been born to occupy this very position.

This was a prince.

He placed a document from his hand onto the table, then spoke in his characteristically steady tempo.

“Today's meeting has two main items on the agenda.”

“The first is the progress reports from each department, and the second is the preparations for the Summer Ball.”

His gaze circled the room, pausing briefly on each core member. His eyes lingered on Loris for exactly the same duration as they did on everyone else.

“We will begin with the executive officers,” he said.

Waters took a deep breath and drew the prepared report materials out of his paper bag.

He was responsible for assisting with club approvals. This week, he had handled seventeen club activity applications, of which fifteen were approved and two were rejected.

He listed the figures one by one, keeping his voice as steady and his pace as even as possible, pronouncing every single number with absolute clarity.

Leonhart listened attentively, jotting down a few notes on his document from time to time.

Once Waters finished, he gave a small nod.

“Are the reasons for the two rejected applications clearly stated?”

“Yes,” Waters said. “One was because the proposed activities exceeded the club's permitted scope, and the other was due to incomplete application materials, specifically lacking the supervising teacher's signature.”

“Very good,” Leonhart said. “Keep up the good work.”

Just two simple sentences.

Yet, Waters felt his spine straighten just a bit more.

Next came the reports from the other departments.

Olivia, the Disciplinary Committee Chair, reported three instances of student disputes that occurred this week, all concentrated among the first-years. Most arose from verbal spats and had already been resolved through mediation.

The Treasurer (whose name was temporarily omitted) simply muttered, “The budget is sufficient,” and that was that.

Meretskov, the Secretary, reported the number and types of documents processed this week. Every figure was precise down to the single digits, and every category was clearly defined as though measured with a ruler.

When he finished speaking, Leonhart showed an expression of admiration for what was a flawless report.

However...

Liliana seemed a bit off. Why was Waldenburg closing his eyes? And that Miss Loris didn't seem to be looking at the Crown Prince with tender eyes at all, even though in his memory, she was supposed to look at him that way...

Displaying a special side reserved only for the Crown Prince.

These people, seriously... why does it feel like none of them are really paying attention?

“Next is the matter of the Summer Ball.”

Leonhart's voice pulled Waters back from his thoughts.

“The theme for this year's Summer Ball is ‘Starry Night,’ and the student council will have full responsibility for its planning and execution. The date is set for June 15th, and the venue will be the academy banquet hall.”

He paused, his gaze sweeping across the room.

“This is a long-standing cultural tradition of our kingdom.”

“The attendees will include all students and faculty of the academy, as well as select invited guests from outside—it will even feature members of the royal family and representatives from the major noble houses.”

“Therefore, this gala is not merely an entertainment event; it is also an opportunity for the academy to present itself to the outside world.”

“I hope all departments will cooperate fully to ensure the gala proceeds smoothly.”

Silence fell over the room for a moment.

Everyone recognized the gravity of the matter.

(After a round of task assignments for the upperclassmen)

The conversation that followed concerned the first-years.

“Liliana.”

Leonhart's voice calmly called out her name.

Liliana's body stiffened almost imperceptibly, and then she quickly raised her head, her face flushing slightly as if she were a mistress who had just been caught.

However, she quickly masked it.

Her eyes met Leonhart's ice-blue gaze for less than half a second before she lowered them again, slightly shy and evasive.

Crown Prince Leonhart didn't seem to think anything was amiss, or at least he didn't show it on the surface.

“You will be responsible for coordinating the registration and screening of performances from each class,” Leonhart said. “This role requires interacting with many people, and I believe your personality is well-suited for it.”

“Y-Yes,” her voice was slightly tight, but she quickly adjusted. “I will carry it out diligently.”

Leonhart nodded.

“Waldenburg.”

Waldenburg looked up, his expression placid.

“You will be in charge of the selection and training of the gala's honor guard,” Leonhart said. “The guard requires students from the Swordsmanship Department, so you will lead them.”

Waldenburg fell silent for a brief moment, then said, “Understood.”

“Loris.”

Leonhart's gaze fell upon Loris.

Loris looked up from her notebook, her emerald-green eyes meeting his calmly.

“You will be responsible for welcoming and guiding the VIP guests on the day of the gala.”

Leonhart's voice was unhurried, as if stating something completely obvious. “This task requires someone well-versed in noble etiquette. You are the most suitable candidate.”

Loris stared at him for two seconds, then gave a slight, dignified nod.

“Very well.”

“Furthermore,” Leonhart continued, “there is one more matter on the day of the gala—the social networking segment.”

He looked in the direction of Meretskov and Isabel. “Secretary Meretskov, Miss Isabel, the design and coordination of this segment will be handled by the two of you.”

Meretskov nodded, and Isabel did the same.

“Then, everyone, let us work hard together.”

...

An hour later, the meeting concluded.

Crown Prince Leonhart departed, surrounded by a group of student council officers. Their figures receded into the twilight of the corridor, his golden hair gilded with a layer of light by the setting sun.

Standing where he was and watching that receding back, Waters suddenly felt that His Highness the Crown Prince must lead quite a tiring life.

After all, Leonhart hadn't really spoken to Miss Loris at the door earlier. He probably wanted to offer a few kind words, seeing as she was his fiancée, but they both seemed so busy that they merely nodded and passed each other by.

It was a manner of being gentle to everyone, polite to everyone, and maintaining a perfectly calculated distance from everyone.

It was as if his life were a scale calibrated countless times, where every counterweight was placed in an exact position, never tilting, never wobbling.

I guess that's the life of a prince.

Waters cradled his paper bag as he stepped out of the student council building. The breeze had already begun to carry a trace of warmth, blowing gently against his face.