Page 75 of Villainess's Redemption
The question caught me so off guard that I forgot what I was about to say.
She took another delicate sip of her tea while I squirmed, trying to say something comprehensible.Like mother, like son. I should have known where Anderic got his flair for making me squirm.
A traitorous flush crept up my neck as I scrambled for a response. “I… I think… that is… I haven’t.”
I felt like a butterfly pinned to a board under Queen Felicia’s scrutiny.
“I remember when Anderic, Noah, and Sebastian were so close growing up,” she mused, her eyes taking on a faraway look. “They were practically inseparable. And you, my dear, always trailing after them like a determined little shadow.”
I blinked, caught off guard by yet another sudden shift in conversation. I was getting whiplash from this talk.
The Queen sighed, her fingers tracing the rim of her teacup. “How quickly those days went by. Within a blink, you children grew up.”
I nodded, not trusting myself to speak. What was she trying to say? Was I reading too much into her words?
“Your Majesty,” I began cautiously, “Did you want to say anything else—”
“Oh, of course, my dear,” she interrupted, her eyes suddenly sharp and focused. “You understand me far more than you let on, don’t you?”
My polite smile froze on my face.
We’re finally getting into the real conversation.
The tension in the room thickened, and I found myself wishing for the simplicity of dodging rotten vegetables in Outlaw’s Den. At least there, I knew where I stood.
I felt like I was treading on thin ice, each word a potential misstep that could plunge me into icy depths. The Queen’s piercing gaze seemed to penetrate my very thoughts, and I fought to keep my face neutral.
“I sincerely wanted to thank you, Ilyana,” she said, her voice warm but her eyes sharp. “So don’t worry.”
Damn. Nothing escapes this woman’s notice, does it?I thought, internally cringing at how easily she’d read my panic.
“It was nothing, really,” I replied, my voice steady despite the hammering of my heart. “I’m grateful that it was me and not you who ended up drinking it,” I tried to pass it off as if I didn’t know about the poison being in the cup and it was totally a coincidence.
Please believe me. I prayed to whatever gods might be listening.
The Queen’s lips curved into a small smile as she shook her head. “I don’t know how you knew about the poison, but Ireally am grateful to you. Even after knowing, you still drank it yourself. You could have died. But you didn’t fear for your life.”
The fear of your son was greater than the poison,I thought wryly, but kept that particular gem to myself.
“I wouldn’t ask you how you knew since you are determined not to acknowledge it,” she continued, her voice taking on a more serious tone. I opened my mouth to defend myself, but she raised a hand, cutting me off. “But I really am here to thank you. What do you want as a reward?”
I blinked, caught off guard by her directness. My mind raced through possibilities, weighing the potential benefits against the risks. Finally, I decided on honesty - or at least, as much honesty as I dared.
“Normally, I would say there’s no need for a reward and show you my humbleness,” I began, “but I’m not going to lie. I really do need it,” I hesitated, aware of the delicate balance I was trying to maintain. “If it’s possible, can I tell you what I want later?”
Queen Felicia nodded, a hint of approval in her eyes. “Very well,” she said, smoothing her gown as she stood. She gave me one last enigmatic smile before turning to leave, Lady Amelia close behind.
As the door clicked shut behind them, I let out a breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding. The room suddenly felt larger, the air less stifling. I leaned back against my pillows, my mind whirling with the implications of our conversation.
Well, that went… surprisingly well.
Chapter 20
I stood before the mirror, admiring my reflection in the emerald green gown. The fabric hugged my curves but was simple and elegant enough that my past self would have fainted in the offense. It was a stark contrast to the tattered rags I’d worn in exile, clean, comfortable, and ready to take on the world. A smirk played on my lips as I met my own gaze.Not bad.
“If I die today, at least I’ll die in style,” I quipped, smoothing down the silken material.
Behind me, Laurel rolled her eyes, muttering under her breath, “You’re being dramatic.”
