The Villainess Refuses to Follow the Script-Chapter 31

There were moments, quiet and fleeting ones, when Beatrice would forget.

She would wake up in her lavish chambers, stretch her limbs beneath silk sheets, and for a brief second, she would think this was her life. That she had always been Beatrice Da Ville, the spoiled noblewoman with sharp wit and an unfortunate reputation.

But then it would hit her.

She wasn’t Beatrice. Not really.

She was Bea Elisha Park, a college student majoring in creative writing. A funny, chronically online mess of a person who had spent most of her life buried in books and daydreams.

She had been normal.

Well, as normal as someone who wrote emotionally devastating stories for fun could be.

Her old life had been quiet. Her father had worked long hours to support them both, and she had done her best to make him proud, even when money was tight and life felt impossibly exhausting. Her mother had passed away from cancer when she was little, and though she had long made peace with that loss, she never stopped carrying the weight of it.

But despite everything, she had been happy.

And then she died.

Now, she was here. Trapped inside a novel she had read years ago, playing the role of a villainess whose downfall was practically written in stone.

Beatrice exhaled slowly, leaning back in her chair.

She had tried not to think about it too much. What was the point? Wallowing wouldn’t change anything. She was stuck here, and no amount of nostalgia was going to fix that.

Besides, she had bigger things to worry about.

Like this.

She stared down at the notes she had been scribbling, a slow dread creeping into her bones.

Because if she was remembering correctly... then they were getting dangerously close to another major event in the novel.

One she really didn’t want to be part of.

The looming war.

It wasn’t an outright war, not at first. More of a political dispute that eventually spiraled into chaos. In the novel, the kingdom’s relationship with its neighboring territories had always been fragile. Small border skirmishes, diplomatic tensions, trade disputes, nothing new. But at this point in the story, those tensions had started to escalate.

The novel had made it clear: the royal family was aware of the growing unrest. And soon, one of the rival territories would take drastic action.

An assassination attempt.

One that would change everything.

Beatrice tapped her fingers against the desk, her mind racing.

In the novel, this was a major turning point for Johanna. It was when she first stepped up as a true leader, proving her strength in a time of crisis. And, of course, Francois had been right by her side, navigating the political chaos together.

And Beatrice?

She had been an afterthought. A bitter, petty antagonist who had been too busy sulking over Francois’ attention toward Johanna to realize how serious the situation was.

But this Beatrice?

She wasn’t going to be that blind.

She needed to find out just how much of this was already in motion.

Which meant finding Francois.

Beatrice sighed, standing from her chair and stretching her arms. This was going to be a long day.

She tucked her notebook away beneath a stack of old books, making sure it was well-hidden before heading toward the door.

As she stepped out into the hallway, she nearly ran straight into Lily.

The maid let out a startled noise before quickly straightening. "My lady! I was just about to fetch you."

Beatrice tilted her head. "What for?"

"The Crown Prince requested your presence."

Beatrice’s stomach twisted. "Francois?"

Lily nodded. "Yes. He’s waiting in the solar."

Beatrice exhaled. Okay, good. That meant she didn’t have to waste time tracking him down.

"Alright," she said, already moving. "Let’s see what His Royal Highness wants."

The walk to the solar was short, and when she arrived, Francois was already seated at the table, going through a set of documents. Sunlight streamed through the arched windows, casting a golden glow over the room.

Beatrice closed the door behind her, folding her arms. "So... summoning me like a true prince. Should I be honored?"

Francois didn’t even glance up. "If it makes you more agreeable, then yes."

Beatrice scoffed, stepping closer. "You wish I was agreeable."

Francois hummed in amusement before finally looking at her. His expression, however, was unreadable.

Beatrice immediately narrowed her eyes. "You have that face."

Francois raised an eyebrow. "What face?"

"The something serious is happening but I won’t tell you until it’s unavoidable face."

Francois exhaled, setting down his papers. "Your paranoia is getting worse."

Beatrice pulled out a chair and sat across from him. "Oh, please. I’m just very good at reading people." She tapped the table. "So, what’s going on?"

Francois studied her for a moment before finally speaking. "I assume you’re aware of the recent tensions with the eastern territories?"

Beatrice tried to keep her face neutral. "I might have heard a little about it."

Francois leaned forward slightly, his fingers interlacing. "Then you should know that things are escalating. More than the court is willing to admit."

Beatrice’s stomach sank.

So it was already happening.

She had hoped there would be more time before this event arrived, but it seemed fate had other plans.

Francois continued, voice calm but firm. "The king has received intelligence suggesting that certain factions within the eastern border are preparing for an act of aggression. We don’t have confirmation on what that entails yet, but—" He paused. "—precautions are being taken."

Beatrice frowned. "And by precautions, you mean...?"

"Increased security. Patrols along the border. Heightened defenses at court." He exhaled. "And more scrutiny on those with potential political affiliations."

Beatrice immediately understood what that meant.

The Da Villes.

Her family had their hands in everything. Trade, finance, and alliances. They were powerful, and in times of unrest, powerful families were always under watch.

Francois didn’t confirm it outright, but he didn’t have to.

Beatrice drummed her fingers against the table. "So... we’re bracing for impact?"

Francois nodded. "Essentially."

Beatrice leaned back, processing everything.

This was it. This was the moment where the novel’s conflicts truly began.

And she had no idea how much of it was about to change.

Beatrice exhaled slowly. "Well. That’s inconvenient."

Francois gave her a dry look. "That’s one way to put it."

Beatrice sighed, resting her chin on her hand. "So what’s my role in all this? Am I supposed to do anything?"

Francois hesitated. "Not yet."

"Yet?"

"I don’t know what will happen next, Lady Beatrice. But when the time comes, I expect you to be prepared."

Beatrice swallowed.

Right.

Prepared.

She could do that. She had to do that.

Because this time?

She wasn’t going to be a background character in her own story.