Page 31 of Villainess's Redemption
“Yes, do take care, Lady Stormbourne,” Anderic added. “We wouldn’t want you fainting again, would we?”
I forced a demure nod. “I’ll do my best to remain conscious, Your Highness.”
As soon as the door closed behind them, I sprang into action. Rest? Ha! I could rest when I was dead. Right now, I had a family to save and a future to rewrite.
“Laurel!” I called, swinging my legs over the side of the bed. “Get ready. We’re going on a little trip.”
My faithful handmaid appeared, her eyes wide with concern. “My lady, are you sure that’s wise? You’ve only just recovered-”
“From a fainting spell, not the plague,” I retorted, rifling through my wardrobe to find a good gown since my old ones were still being altered and new ones hadn’t arrived yet. A pale-yellow sundress, it had to do for now. “Besides, nothing cures a headache quite like a family visit.”
Laurel’s brow furrowed. “We’re going to your parents’ house?”
“Indeed, we are,” I said, tossing the yellow sundress onto the bed. “And we need to hurry.”
As Laurel helped me dress, I kept looking at the door anxiously. What if they returned again?
“My lady,” Laurel ventured as she laced up my gown, “won’t Lord Noah be upset if he returns to find you gone?”
I snorted. “Darling, I’m fairly certain Noah would be more upset if he returned to find me still here. Now, let’s go before someone decides I need another wellness check.”
We slipped out of the palace like criminals in broad daylight, which, considering my past, wasn’t too far from the truth. The carriage ride to my parent’s estate was mercifully uneventful, giving me time to gather my thoughts and steel my nerves.
The carriage rattled to a stop outside my parents’ manor, and I peered out the window with a mix of nostalgia and dread. Home sweet home, where every brick held a memory of my misspent youth. How quaint.
D’Arcane manor was a sight to behold, not as grand and beautiful as the palace but beautiful in its own way. Made with white stone to match the aesthetic of the city, hardly any other noble could boast of such a marvel. But all this opulence didn’t matter if we were dead. What a sobering thought.
As I descended from the carriage with all the grace of a newborn fawn, courtesy of the lingering dizziness, I caught sight of my parents waiting at the gate. Mother, bless her heart, looked ready to faint herself. Father’s expression was caught somewhere between concern and constipation. Charming.
“Ilyana, darling!” Mother cried, rushing forward to envelop me in a cloud of lavender perfume and maternal worry. “We were so worried when we heard about your fainting spell!”
I patted her back awkwardly. “There, there, Mother. I assure you; I’m still breathing. No need for hysterics.”
Father cleared his throat, his eyes darting between me and the conspicuously Noah-less carriage. “Where’s your husband, daughter? Surely, he didn’t let you travel alone in your condition?”
Ah, yes. My “condition.” One fainting spell and suddenly I was made of porcelain.
“Oh, you know how it is, Father,” I said, waving a hand dismissively. “Urgent matters of state and all that. I’m sure he’s off saving the kingdom from enemy spies and corruption.”
Mother’s brow furrowed. “But surely nothing could be more important than his wife’s health?”
I bit back a laugh. If only she knew.
Before I could conjure up another creative excuse for Noah’s absence, Father’s face clouded over. “What could possibly be more pressing than accompanying his wife after such an incident? This is unacceptable!”
Oh, wonderful. Now I had to defend the honor of a man I’d tricked into marriage. The irony was not lost on me.
Thankfully, Mother swooped in like an avenging angel in a floral dress. “Now, Elyas,” she chided, “I’m sure Lord Noah had his reasons. You know how demanding royal duties can be.”
I wanted to correct her. As much as Noah was beloved by the royal family, he wasn’t royalty but my mother always fancied being related to royalty. If not the prince, then his cousin.
Father grumbled something unintelligible, but the storm in his eyes subsided. Crisis averted. I made a mental note to thank Mother later for her impeccable timing.
“Now,” Mother said, linking her arm through mine, “let’s get you inside and settled. You look pale as a ghost, dear.”
As we made our way into the manor, I couldn’t help but marvel at how little had changed. The same meticulously manicured gardens, the same imposing stone facade, the same air of quiet opulence. It was like stepping back in time – which, I supposed, I had. Funny how life works out sometimes.
Mother fussed over me the entire way to my old room, peppering me with questions about my health and throwing concerned glances at me as if I might shatter at any moment. Ianswered her queries with as much patience as I could muster, which admittedly wasn’t much.
