Chapter 58 | How to Not Get Executed as an Otome Game Villainess

The weekend holiday was, of course, not just being spent here.

Klaus was also spending his holiday in a state of nervous apprehension.

The sunlight on Starlight Day wasn't as rushed as it was during school days. It slowly climbed up from the east, lingering on the spire of the clock tower for a moment before unhurriedly blanketing the entire royal capital.

The fountain in the central plaza spewed droplets in the morning light, each one shining like a shattered glass bead, splashing down onto the water with a rushing sound.

The lawn was a vibrant, shining green. A gust of wind kicked up waves of pale green, carrying the uniquely tangy sweetness of grass warmed by the sun.

Alden Cross walked in from the back door, carrying two steaming cups of black tea in his hands. He placed one on Klaus's table and pulled over a nearby chair to sit down.

“The mana control test is coming up soon, so this study group is perfectly timed, isn't it?” Alden smiled mysteriously.

Klaus felt like this was a case of a weasel harboring hidden motives. After all, did Alden really think Klaus didn't know what kind of person his childhood friend was?

“Spit it out. Did you get yourself into trouble again?”

“As expected of Klaus, my dearest friend.” Alden crossed his legs and blew on the steam rising from his tea. “Anyway, my mana control is mediocre at best, and cramming at the eleventh hour won't make a difference. So yes, today isn't actually a study group.”

“Then why did you go out of your way to borrow these books and call me over here?”

“Because someone else is coming.”

“...”

Klaus fell silent for a second, then dipped his quill back into the inkwell and sighed.

He figured it was yet another waste of time, like “using a study session as an excuse to get close to a girl,” and he was just there to act as the wingman.

He had been dealing with some romantic troubles of his own lately and didn't really feel like playing along. However, before he could get up from his seat, the other person Alden mentioned arrived.

A soft, sleepy voice drifted inside.

“Pardon the intrusion...”

Clara Wendell stood at the doorway.

She was wearing a casual white dress with a loose, slightly open collar. Her long platinum-blonde hair fell over her shoulders, with a few strands reaching down to her waist. Her blue eyes were half-open, making her look like she had just been dragged out of bed—and in fact, she had indeed just woken up from an afternoon nap.

Atop her head, her contracted pet, Cotton, was curled up into a ball of white fluff, also fast asleep.

Klaus was dumbfounded. He had never expected that Alden's next target would actually be her!

No, no, no—more importantly, how on earth did he manage to invite her?

“Classmate Clara,” Alden stood up, doing his best to look like a serious study group host. “Thank you for coming to our study session.”

Clara walked in sluggishly and sat down in the seat opposite Klaus.

She took her textbook out of her pouch, placed it on the table, and then—resting her chin on her crossed arms over the book—said lazily,

“Let's start.”

Her voice sounded as if it were drifting in from far away.

Klaus, feeling a bit apprehensive, exchanged a glance with the nonchalant Alden.

Klaus mouthed, “Are you sure she can even answer any questions?”

Alden mouthed back, “That's not important.”

Still unclear on what Alden's motives were, Klaus had no choice but to stay and watch.

The study session began.

Nominally, the three of them were reviewing content for the midterm mana control test—maintaining stability, suppressing mana fluctuations, and managing circuits during prolonged output.

Klaus flipped to page 87 of the textbook, pointing at a passage. “Do you guys have any insights regarding the stability of magic circuits?”

Alden was quick to chime in. “I think it's mostly about breathing. If your breathing is steady, your mana will be steady.”

“Mm.”

“...What does 'Mm' mean?”

“You're right. Breathing is very important.”

“... (After a period of study that was absolutely not studying)”

During their break, Alden put on a generous display and ordered a large selection of desserts. A dazzling array of macarons and cakes was brought over.

Clara's eyes lit up, and she perked up.

The way she ate in small, delicate bites was indeed very cute, and she would even let out soft, contented hums when eating something delicious.

Klaus now had a rough understanding of why this girl had been willing to come.

“By the way, Classmate Clara—”

Alden was finally ready to lay his cards on the table. Of course, he hadn't done this for the sake of studying; after being recruited by Vera and the other villainous girls that day, he had invited Clara because he needed to find out a few things.

Alden said, “You grew up in the royal capital, right?”

“Mm,” she mumbled, her mouth full of cake.

“Then you must have attended the Summer Ball many times, right?”

“Mm,” she said. “Every year.”

Klaus still couldn't see what Alden was plotting, but Alden felt his heart beat a little faster.

Perfect. Getting down to business.

“What do you think of this year's ball?” he asked, trying to keep his tone as casual as possible. “I mean, the overall arrangements, the venue, the atmosphere, and so on... Aren't you and Isabel desk partners? Surely you must know something.”

Clara remained silent for a couple of seconds, as if reminiscing.

“It's quite nice,” she said. “The ballroom is decorated well.”

“The ballroom?” Alden caught the key word. “That's the banquet hall on the east side of the royal capital, right? I've passed by it a few times before, but the gates were always closed, so I don't know what it looks like inside.”

“It's very large inside,” Clara said. “It can hold over a thousand people. There is also a second floor where the orchestra sits, and the VIP seats are located directly facing the dance floor, offering the best view.”

Alden was thrilled. He had really found the right person.

This information was extremely useful.

“What about the places to change clothes?” Alden suddenly asked boldly. “I mean, where does everyone change before the ball starts?”

Clara gave him a puzzled look.

Alden quickly added, “I'm just curious, hahaha... You know, Klaus doesn't really understand these things.”

Klaus felt incredibly offended: Excuse me?

However, since Alden was kicking him under the table, he had no choice but to keep his patience and see what his friend was actually plotting.

“There are preparation rooms,” Clara said while happily eating her food. “They are located on both sides of the first-floor banquet hall.”

“Each preparation room has changing booths, dressing tables, mirrors, and a lounge area. They are divided according to noble ranks, and the royal family's changing room is separate.”

“Generally speaking, the further inside you go, the higher the noble rank.”

They casually went through a few details like that.

Alden committed all of this information to memory.

They chatted for about another half hour.

During this time, Klaus also asked a few “inconsequential” questions—whether the preparation rooms were well-lit, if there were drinking fountains, and which exit was most convenient after the ball. Every question was packaged under the guise of simply wanting to understand the flow of the Summer Ball.

Clara quietly answered all of them.

Her answers were brief but accurate, and every detail was perfectly clear. She was indeed a true noble of the royal capital, raised in the world of high society balls since childhood.

“That should about do it,” Alden closed his textbook. “Thank you for your help, Classmate Clara.”

“Mm.” Clara sluggishly rose from her seat.

“Now, let's go eat something even better,” Alden said with a gentlemanly smile, much to Clara's satisfaction.

Clara walked ahead of them, while Cotton rolled over on her head, changing positions to continue sleeping.

Meanwhile, Alden and Klaus walked behind her.

“Why did you ask about the locations of those preparation rooms?” Klaus finally couldn't help but lower his voice to ask. “What are you trying to do?”

Alden simply smiled without giving an answer.

“Alden?”

But Klaus could sense a scheme in the works.

Asking about the Summer Ball and then about the changing rooms... Naturally, one would need to wear a beautiful gown to the ball, but if those gowns were to get soiled or ruined, it would be an immense embarrassment. Klaus dared not even imagine such a possibility.

Soon after, they arrived at the dessert shop.

In a booth by the window on the second floor, Clara had three plates placed before her.

A strawberry mille-feuille, a crème caramel, and a vanilla cream puff.

Cotton jumped down from her head and crouched on the edge of the table. As its mouth opened, mana surged, and a crumb of the mille-feuille flew right into its mouth like a vacuum cleaner.

The treats at the study session had only been a simple gesture of greeting; this was Clara's true reward.

Meanwhile, Klaus's cheek twitched slightly as he watched Clara demolish the desserts on her plates at a speed that completely defied his understanding. Only one thought crossed his mind: She eats this many sweets, yet how does she manage to sleep through all of her classes?

She picked up her fork, cut off a small piece, popped it into her mouth, and let out an incredibly faint, almost inaudible, “Mmh.”

Clara was thoroughly happy.

Cotton leaped off the table and spun in circles right next to her hand.

This was the very girl who was normally like a puddle of liquid slumped in a chair, a strict minimalist when it came to expending energy—yet now, an expression of pure, unadulterated happiness adorned her face.

“Alright, thank you for making the trip today.”

“It was no trouble. You can invite me again next time, Classmate Almidon.”

“Ah, hahaha... It's Classmate Alden...”

The two boys saw Clara off, and the holiday seemed as if it were coming to an end.

In reality, it was only just beginning.

“Can you spit it out now?” Klaus crossed his arms with an annoyed look on his face. “But first things first, you're footin' the bill for this yourself.”

Alden replied nonchalantly, “Of course.”

As he spoke, he called over the waiter. The bill presented to the two of them sitting at their previous seats was a whopping thirty silver coins.

In plain terms, they had eaten three thousand dollars' worth of desserts.

However, because Alden was assisting the villainous girls—which was also something he wanted to do anyway—his pockets were lined deep. The money had been provided by them, and they had even told him that Klaus could order whatever he wanted on their dime.

Naturally, this was also because he had a favor to ask of Klaus next.

And so—

Alden said solemnly, “You're looking forward to the Summer Ball, aren't you?”

Klaus felt there was a hidden meaning behind his words. “What of it?”

“At the Summer Ball, all the girls will show up in their most beautiful attire, shining like dazzling stars. To tell you the truth, I've learned that a group of villainous girls is planning to plot against Lady Aldheim—”

Lying without a single blush or a skip of his heartbeat, Alden continued:

“Ever since what happened at the cafe last time, I've admired her, so I can't let those villainous girls have their way. Surely you feel the same way—after all, I know your secret.”

Thump!

Klaus's face instantly flushed red.

Could it be—this guy knows that Loris likes me? If Crown Prince Leonhart of the student council found out—seeing as he was both His Highness and the president—Klaus would surely be targeted, even if he hadn't actively seduced her but had simply attracted her with his irresistible charm.

He swallowed hard.

Klaus had no choice but to say in a deep voice, “Spit it out.”

Alden had never prepared to say a sentence so seriously. He took a deep breath, looked at Klaus with an exceptionally earnest gaze, and said word for word:

“Klaus.”

“For the sake of your happiness... and for mine.”

“Crossdress.”

Klaus: “?”

Beneath the bolt from the blue was a dead silence. Klaus felt as though he was hallucinating. “Huh?! What did you say?!”

“I said,” Alden paused, “for my sake, crossdress and sneak into the ladies' changing room at the Summer Ball.”

Klaus found this utterly bizarre, his moral integrity completely shattered. “???”

...

The weekend holiday was, of course, not just being spent over here.

Wait, this opening line seems a little familiar.

The palace on the weekend was much quieter than usual.

There was none of the bustle of the morning court sessions, nor the footsteps of ministers taking turns to seek an audience. Even the echo of the attendants' leather shoes on the marble floors of the corridors lingered longer than it did on weekdays.

Leonhart von Edelstein sat by the window of his study, holding a report in his hand.

He didn't often spend his holidays at the academy.

After all, besides his identity as president, he was also the Crown Prince of the Kingdom of Barton, first in the line of succession, and had already begun learning how to assist with state affairs.

Sunlight poured in from the French windows. He wore an ordinary white shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his forearms and the top button of his collar undone—an attire that, if seen at the academy, would make people think, “The Crown Prince looks a bit different today.”

For instance, not so perfect.

But this was his private room, where no one else was around to care.

A moment later, he set the report down, picked up his teacup, and took a sip.

It was cold.

This was actually the exact same kind of black tea he often drank in the student council office, not because he particularly loved the flavor, but out of habit.

Habit is a terrifying thing—it makes you unconsciously depend on a certain person or a certain thing, and when that person suddenly changes, you feel as though the entire world is out of sync.

For example, Loris had been acting a little strange lately.

This fiancée of his, whom he had met roughly four years ago, had been exhibiting an off attitude toward him recently.

Leonhart placed his teacup back on the saucer with a soft clink. Leaning against the back of his chair, his gaze drifted to the neatly trimmed row of cypresses in the garden outside, while his mind replayed every single detail he had noticed.

When school had first started, Loris's gaze when looking at him was still familiar.

He had seen that look countless times—on the faces of noble young ladies who tried to appear composed but could not hide their racing heartbeats in his presence, and in the eyes of girls who discussed him in secret as their “ideal type.”

It was a sort of involuntary, near-instinctive affection driven by something.

He actually didn't like that kind of look.

But now, even that look he disliked had vanished. Loris's gaze when looking at him had become calm.

A complete, inside-out calmness without a single ripple.

If described in melancholic terms—it was simply that she didn't love him as much anymore.

But to Leonhart, this felt wrong.

Normally at the academy, Loris would still smile at him in private, call him “Your Highness,” and nod in compliance with his arrangements during student council meetings.

This widely infamous villainous daughter was only ever gentle and submissive toward him, a fact that remained unchanged, often leaving Leonhart wondering if he was just overthinking things.

Every single one of her movements adhered perfectly to noble etiquette, and not a single flaw could be found in any of her words.

But without a doubt, that certain something—had vanished.

Leonhart couldn't quite put his finger on when he had first noticed it. Perhaps it was during a student council meeting where, when he spoke, Loris hadn't stared at him with her usual focus, but instead kept her head down taking notes. Perhaps it was when they passed each other in the corridor, and she hadn't held her breath slightly at his proximity. Perhaps it was when she looked at him once, and those emerald-green eyes of hers held absolutely nothing.

No adoration, no nervousness.

Leonhart's fingers tapped gently on the armrest a couple of times.

To him, this was undoubtedly bad news.

It was not because he harbored romantic feelings for Loris—honestly, his feelings for her were far removed from the word “love.” At the age of twelve they had been far too young, and for a young Highness who was now nearing his coming-of-age ceremony, the so-called engagement was merely names signed on parchment by their fathers, having nothing to do with emotion.

But, this sentiment was tied to politics.

The Aldheim family was one of the most powerful ducal families in the kingdom. Ever since the reign of his grandfather, the former Emperor Doresf, the Edelstein family had been gathering strength for a specific goal, building upon the legacy of six generations—and those words were not spoken lightly.

Every generation of kings had laid bricks and mortar toward that ultimate goal of vengeance, and the baking of each brick required the support of the nobility.

The Aldheim family was the largest brick of them all.

He could not afford to lose it.

Leonhart stood up, walked over to the window, and rested his hands on the sill as he gazed down at the fountain in the garden.

The jet of water refracted a small rainbow under the sunlight. It was beautiful, but utterly useless.

He began to ponder exactly when Loris's change had begun.

Had it been after she entered the academy? After she joined the student council? Or after that rumor of her duel with Waldenburg?

Waldenburg Edmond.

The strongest first-year in the Swordsmanship Department.

Short black hair, dark gray eyes, completely expressionless, with a sword always hanging at his waist.

(A textual description of rumors and gossip)

Although absolutely no one had witnessed it with their own eyes.

But that was how the rumors went.

Leonhart didn't think much of the matter between Loris and Liliana—in his eyes, it seemed more like Loris's usual villainous style, publicly declaring her sovereignty and letting everyone know that this commoner girl was her personal property.

What truly concerned him,

was why Loris had dueled Waldenburg in the first place.

Was it because of Liliana? Was it out of jealousy? Or was it due to some other reason?

He did not know.

But he did know one thing.

Waldenburg Edmond was not bad-looking.

With his short black hair, dark gray eyes, sharp facial features, and that cold aura of not caring about anyone—this type was indeed prone to making girls his age flutter.