Memoirs of Your Local Small-time Villainess-Chapter 414 - In before

A scatter of wavering shadows folded around Regina as she pulled her cloak tighter against the cold. Her breath misted in the dim air, fading almost instantly. Pedestrians glanced their way, eyes sliding off them as the shadows drew thin and indistinct, blurring Regina into the texture of the darkened evening streets.

She didn’t let the magic lull her into complacency.

Her gaze traced the movements and paths of those around them as they advanced through the city, quietly mapping alleys, windows, and passing carriages.

The silhouette ahead of her turned sharply into a side street. Regina followed.

The alley narrowed with each step, stones slick with recently melted damp. Halfway down, a crooked staircase rose toward a weathered door, faint light bleeding through its seams.

She cast one last glance over her shoulder to confirm the street was clear, then ascended. The door had already opened. Regina slipped through as the shadows in front of her coiled inward, converging into a thin ribbon of dark mist that sank back into Oveth’s robes.

The enchantment on his hood obscured most of his face, revealing only a flicker of eyes within the folds as he gave her a brief nod.

Regina turned back to the door. Drawing her sabre, she held the blade upright and channelled mana through its length. Dark runes shimmered briefly along the wood, etching a faint geometric glow across the frame before fading into invisibility.

She could only manage temporary enchantments, but they were enough for things like this.

She gestured to Oveth, and together they moved down a narrow corridor that opened into a spacious, dimly lit chamber.

Her gaze swept the room as she entered. Mel sat cross-legged in one corner, surrounded by star-patterned pillows and half-finished embroidery, her small mirror resting among the threads. Briana was by the hearth, tending the fire with her usual patience. On the couch, Skye lay sprawled beneath a blanket, book raised lazily in one hand as though she’d been reading the same page for an hour.

Briana glanced over and inclined her head in greeting.

Regina removed her cloak, draping it neatly over a nearby chair before stretching her arms in the slow, deliberate motions Skye had once taught her. Oveth crossed the room and immediately set about arranging his notes at a table crowded with books and scrolls.

They hadn’t used this safehouse long, but it still surprised Regina how easily some of them settled wherever they stopped. She had long thought herself adaptable—months of travel had stripped away most of her royal excess—but she still found it difficult to breathe easily inside crowded cities. Perhaps it was simply all in her mind, but the constant possibility of recognition seemed to linger in every face.

She preferred when they made camp in the wilderness, where sleep came less burdened, even if it was more easily interrupted. She envied how Skye could fall asleep anywhere and stay that way for half a day. Regina had lost count of how many times she’d had to wake her.

Still, she wouldn’t complain. Her presence was the primary reason they needed to hide at all. She’d even had to rely on Oveth to secure this refuge.

“So,” Skye said from the couch, “how’d it go? Making good progress?”

“I’ve nearly completed the primary array,” Oveth rasped from the table without looking up. “Determining the estate’s full defensive structure without tripping its wards or alerting that prismite spirit won’t be possible. But the remaining preparations can be finalised by tomorrow, if needed.”

“Really? Great stuff.” Skye flipped a page, then glanced at Regina as she walked over to sit in a chair beside the couch. “And did you enjoy freezing in the dark doing nothing again?”

Regina frowned slightly. When they had arrived in Freybrook, Skye had volunteered to oversee the surveillance of the Hartford estate. Regina had refused. Skye’s patience was…short, to say the least, and her discretion often worse. She might still be sulking about it, but Regina stood by the decision.

Besides, among them, Skye was best suited to keep Mel company. The other woman had grown increasingly restless since they left Beld Thylelion, spending most of her time embroidering or whispering to Skye in low, fevered tones.

“I would not call it enjoyable,” Regina said, eyeing Skye’s book. “But we learned something important today.”

Skye lowered the page. “We did?”

“Yes. While Oveth was working, Baroness Hartford received a visitor. Are you familiar with House Knottley?”

Skye shook her head. “Can’t say it rings a bell.”

“Count Knottley governs Freybrook. According to Sir Leon, his relations with the Baroness are…complicated. The Count’s daughter, however—Miss Livvi Knottley—has allegedly long been one of her closest associates. She currently holds a position within the Shields Guild’s leadership in the empire.”

“And she dropped by today?”

Regina nodded. “She did.”

She had spotted the carriage first but hadn’t recognised the passenger until Oveth’s scrying confirmed her identity. Regina had never interacted with Miss Knottley personally, but her father’s was a respected name throughout Elystead, and his loyalty to the crown was well established. She knew his daughter by reputation, if nothing else.

“So what did you do?” Skye asked, lowering her book to her stomach.

“I spoke with her.”

Skye blinked. “…You did what?”

“I stopped her carriage and had a conversation.”

“…And you said I’m bad at staying undercover.”

“Under…cover?” Regina considered the new phrase briefly. “Regardless,” she eventually said, “it was a calculated risk.”

She had been careful to approach under Oveth’s shadows, briefly disorienting the coachman and guards with a spell before entering the carriage. Miss Knottley was not known as an accomplished mage, and if necessary, Regina could likely have blurred her memory enough so that she mistook the meeting for a dream. She hadn’t needed to, however. Everything Regina knew of Livvi Knottley—other than her odd relationship with Scarlett Hartford—suggested a forthright nature, and the conversation had remained civil.

“I asked her not to reveal our meeting,” Regina said. “I believe she will honour that promise.”

Skye stared at her. “I can’t decide whether that’s naive or impressive.”

Regina shot her a cool look. “I would prefer not to hear that from you of all people.”

“What about from Briana? Briana, want to weigh in?”

The Oathbound turned from the fire, her expression unreadable as her gaze settled on Regina. “This woman revealed information?”

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“Some,” Regina said. “I couldn’t disguise that I was seeking information on Baroness Hartford, but she wasn’t as surprised as one might expect. At the very least, she believes the Baroness is in a position where imperial attention would not be unwarranted. But even when I pressed her using my title, she avoided revealing any real detail about what the Baroness might be doing. I couldn’t confirm for certain whether the Tribute of Dominion is within the estate.”

Livvi Knottley had been incredibly courteous, and Regina would be surprised if that sincerity had been feigned. Yet the woman had also been careful, gently steering the conversation towards Regina herself. She’d spent more effort trying to understand Regina’s circumstances—and offering to help—than answering any of her questions.

To be entirely honest, it had been somewhat awkward.

“So…” Skye drawled. “We didn’t really learn anything then, did we?”

“No,” Regina said. “We did. She visited without her family’s crest on the carriage, which is unusual. After speaking with her, I believe she came as a representative of the Shields Guild, not as a friend. That suggests Baroness Hartford is cooperating with the Guild — or at least with certain members of its leadership. That is important information. It could also be good news.”

“Because the Guild are the good guys,” Skye said, “and they probably wouldn’t work with her if they weren’t sure she wasn’t a villainess?”

“Precisely.”

“I don’t buy it.”

“It could also mean the Guild is compromised,” Briana remarked, brow furrowing.

Regina regarded her in silence, then inclined her head. “Yes. That’s also a possibility.”

She released a slow breath.

Her network within imperial society was thin, limited to only a handful of discreet channels she could still rely on without invoking her title. But from the little information she had managed to gather on Baroness Scarlett Hartford over the past few days, it was already clear that the woman wasn’t as simple as she might appear. For a minor baroness, Scarlett Hartford’s name currently carried surprising weight — perhaps even more than that of certain counts.

And that was without accounting for her personal strength.

She had defeated Sir Leon—and all of them—alone.

It seemed inevitable that they would have to confront her again, in some fashion. But Regina wasn’t certain what circumstances would be best for that encounter or whether the woman was even truly the villain she had appeared to be when they first clashed.

“I think that—” Skye began, then stopped mid-sentence, her gaze flicking upward to the space above her.

Her expression hardened into a scowl.

Regina straightened at once. She knew that look. “What is it?”

Skye didn’t answer immediately. Her eyes tracked the same patch of air, sharp and focused. Then she drew in a breath, swung her legs off the couch, and sat upright. The book resting on her stomach slid to the floor with a soft thud.

“Oveth,” she said, glancing towards the robed man at the table. “You said the preparations could be ready by tomorrow?”

He turned, the shadows of his hood shifting. “Yes.”

“Good.” She looked back at Regina. “Then I don’t think we can wait much longer. There’s a window coming. We have to take it.”

Regina studied her face, the tempered certainty there.

“…Very well,” she said. “I’ll get ready.”

“So, what did you do with that scary demon lady?” Kat asked, fingers weaving deftly through Allyssa’s hair as she braided the blonde locks. “I’m guessing you didn’t banish her by shouting her name or whatever.”

“No, we just sent her off with a hug and a freshly baked thank-you tart,” Rosa replied, perched on the edge of the table and chewing thoughtfully on a tea cake. “People can call Scarlett the Thorn of the Empire, the Frosted Baroness, or the Iron Hostess all they like, but no one extends hospitality quite like her — even if you happen to snack on newborns for breakfast.”

“There was no hugging or baked goods involved,” Scarlett said flatly, without looking up from the Array Forge before her. “And no one refers to me by any of those titles.”

“Not around you they don’t. But trust me, they’re out there. You wouldn’t believe the kind of things that spread through the taverns these days.”

“I somehow doubt the empire’s common folk spend their evenings gossiping about me.”

“Actually, from what I heard last time I was in Elystead, there’s been a fair bit of talk,” Kat said.

Scarlett paused, glancing her way.

Rosa’s grin widened at the edge of her vision.

“Regardless,” Scarlett added, shaking her head, “it is irrelevant.”

She turned back to the Array Forge on the table, carefully threading mana through the intricate network of runes and arrays that made up the device.

They were in the Loci’s garden, seated around the marble table in the gazebo. The echoes of some unseen bird drifted through the hedges, the early noon sun filtering down from above. Beyond Rosa, Kat, and Allyssa, Shin, Fynn, and Slate were also present. Everyone but Fynn was seated at the table. The white-haired youth, meanwhile, meditated nearby as the others idly picked at tea and a spread of confections Garside had provided.

Scarlett wasn’t entirely sure how the picnic-like scene had come to be, frankly. She’d come out early to practise her Stillwork, and sometime during her focus, Rosa and the others had simply appeared, with Garside enabling the intrusion by supplying refreshments. When Kat and Allyssa asked about the previous day’s meeting with Malachi, Rosa had already begun retelling the story before Scarlett could stop her, so she’d chosen to let it continue while she worked.

As with many things involving Rosa, that decision came with some regrets. But to her credit, the summary was surprisingly accurate.

“I still don’t get how you can be so casual about demons,” Allyssa said, resting her chin on her hands while Kat tied off the braid. “Even thinking back to when we fought those things gives me the chills.”

“Well, strangely enough, it helps when you know someone like Malachi keeps them in line.” Rosa shrugged. “Crazy intense as she is, it’s sort of satisfying watching her boss those things around. Might’ve awakened something in me. Something dark. And slightly sadistic.”

“That’s disturbing.”

“Right? I think Scarlett’s rubbing off on me. If we’re not careful, I’ll stab her in the back and take Slate for myself in a bid for world domination.”

“I will not assist you in achieving world domination,” Slate said from Allyssa’s left. She held a small tea pastry in one hand, a single bite missing, though it had been like that for some time. Allyssa had convinced her to try it, despite the homunculus’s insistence that she had no need for sustenance. From the look of things, she’d found it unremarkable at best.

“…Is it because I’m not Scarlett, or because I’m me?” Rosa asked.

Slate tilted her head. “I cannot determine whether you wish me to answer truthfully.”

The bard’s expression fell. “That tells me everything.”

“I see.” Slate returned her attention to the pastry.

“About Mistress,” Shin said, drawing Scarlett’s attention. “Are you sure she can be trusted in this ‘gala’ business? I’ve never heard of divine laws or assemblies like that before.”

“Unfortunately, it depends,” Scarlett replied. “To my knowledge, Mistress does not bother with lies if she does not need to, but when she does, it is effortless. However, as long as she does not stand to lose by keeping her word, betrayal is unlikely. The issue is not whether she can be trusted. It is whether I can determine precisely what she stands to gain by misleading us.”

“So you’d want to make sure she can’t move forward without you.”

“Indeed. And as long as Slate’s abilities remain under our control, that balance should hold.”

Allyssa looked up. “Do we really need to work with Mistress at all, though? I realise this isn’t too different from what you did with Fate in Beld Thylelion, but…interfering with the gods? What’s the point? I mean, they’re not evil, are they? Ittar’s guided the empire for centuries. Wouldn’t it be better if they could interact more directly with the world and help?”

Scarlett considered the girl, then dipped her head just slightly. “Perhaps. I cannot say for certain. That is what I must determine before committing. But remember that there are many gods besides Ittar, and not all of them are guaranteed to be as benevolent or predictable. Many remain unknown factors to me. Working with Mistress could allow us to shape the rules that govern their involvement, ensuring the balance remains in the empire’s and our favour. That does not necessarily mean working against all of them.”

Allyssa bit her lip, still uncertain, but didn’t argue.

“I would also like to note,” Scarlett continued, “that this would affect how the Viles interact with the Material Realm. Which could lessen their overall influence.”

“You do realise that sounds just a tad hollow,” Kat said, letting Allyssa’s braid fall over the girl’s shoulders, “given you’ve also admitted you might include a Vile in the whole plan.”

“That is precisely what might make it effective,” Scarlett replied. “Having one of their kind involved would make it easier to contain the others. Malachi lacks the leverage Mistress and I possess, making her more likely to accept terms we dictate. That opens a path to reshaping the Blazes into something more stable and less corrosive to the Material Realm.”

Her conversation with Malachi the night before had followed a similar line. Even without Mistress, Scarlett had intended to use the half-demon’s position to expand her influence in the Blazes and establish a foothold that could serve as both deterrent and connection. Mistress’ proposal simply introduced a riskier—but potentially more powerful—framework for that goal.

“Of course,” she continued, “if you do not—”

She stopped.

The Loci stirred in her mind, a sudden, sharp tension thrumming through the link.

Fynn’s eyes snapped open.

A shadow passed over the garden.

The others glanced up.

“…I don’t think the sun’s supposed to do that,” Rosa said, pointing past the gazebo. Where bright sunlight had filled the estate moments before, a thin grey haze now hung between the ground and the sky, casting the grounds in a dim, uneven shade.

A scowl crossed Scarlett’s brow. “No. Neither do I.”