The Villainess Refuses to Follow the Script-Chapter 33

The palace was alive with activity.

Beatrice hadn’t thought much about it at first. Servants coming and going, courtiers bustling about, but when she arrived at the queen’s private parlor and saw the sea of fabrics, embroidery samples, and sketches laid out across the room, she immediately turned to leave.

Unfortunately, Lila spotted her before she could escape.

"Absolutely not," the princess said, grabbing Beatrice’s arm and dragging her inside. "You’re already here. You’re participating."

Beatrice sighed, resigning herself to her fate as she took in the scene.

Queen Cecile sat gracefully on a cushioned chair, watching with mild amusement as seamstresses presented their latest designs. Johanna stood beside her, eyes bright with interest, while Lila was already flipping through fabric swatches with all the enthusiasm of a general preparing for battle.

"I don’t recall signing up for this," she muttered, glancing at the fabrics.

"You live in a palace," Lila replied. "You wear dresses. You benefit from this."

"That doesn’t mean I care about it."

Queen Cecile chuckled. "And yet, Lady Beatrice, I think you would enjoy yourself if you tried."

"That remains to be seen, Your Majesty." Beatrice gave her a polite, skeptical smile.

Johanna, ever the picture of grace, held up an embroidered sleeve design.

"I think this would suit you well, Lady Beatrice. Dark blue complements you."

Beatrice glanced at it. It was elegant, lined with silver embroidery, delicate but striking. She wouldn’t admit it, but it was actually quite nice.

Lila, however, scoffed. "Dark blue? No, Beatrice needs something more dramatic. Red, perhaps."

Beatrice wrinkled her nose. "Why do I feel like you just want me to look like a villain?"

Lila smirked. "Because you have the personality to match?"

Beatrice gasped in mock offense.

Johanna smiled softly, shaking her head. "I do think something bold would suit you, but I suppose that depends on what kind of impression you want to leave."

Beatrice blinked. That was... oddly insightful.

For all of Johanna’s kindness, there was always something careful about her words. As if she were measuring everything she said.

Beatrice hummed, turning back to the fabrics. "Alright, let’s see what we’re working with."

One of the seamstresses hesitantly stepped forward, laying out another set of designs.

"This gown was created with more structured silhouettes in mind. It conveys elegance and strength."

Beatrice raised an eyebrow. "So it says, I’m rich, powerful, and can probably step on you? "

The seamstress paled.

Queen Cecile let out an amused sigh. "You do have a way with words, Lady Beatrice."

Lila snorted. "I think that’s exactly what she was going for."

Johanna, ever diplomatic, merely looked thoughtful. "It’s an interesting perspective. Fashion is an extension of one’s image, after all."

Beatrice hummed. She hadn’t thought about it that way. In the novel, Beatrice had always been dressed in the most extravagant outfits, more to flaunt the Da Ville name than to suit her own tastes.

Maybe this time, she could actually choose for herself.

She reached out, running her fingers over the embroidered design Johanna had picked earlier.

"Fine," she said. "I’ll take this one."

"I think it will suit you well." Johanna’s smile was warm.

Lila huffed. "Boring. But fine."

Beatrice rolled her eyes. "Sorry for not picking something villainous enough for you."

As the seamstresses continued their work, the conversation drifted.

Queen Cecile watched the interactions with quiet amusement before speaking. "It’s rare for all of us to sit together like this. I must admit, it’s... refreshing."

Beatrice glanced at her. There was something unreadable in her expression, though her tone remained light.

Johanna nodded. "It is nice. Sometimes, court matters make it difficult to enjoy simple things."

"Simple? Do you see how many embroidery samples they’ve brought? There’s nothing simple about this." Beatrice commented.

Lila grinned. "She has a point."

Queen Cecile merely smiled. "And yet, despite your complaints, you’re still engaged in the process."

"That’s only because I’ve accepted my fate." She sighed dramatically.

The queen chuckled. "Acceptance is the first step, Lady Beatrice."

Beatrice hummed. "What’s the second step?"

Lila smirked. "Suffering."

Beatrice groaned, throwing her head back. "I knew it."

The laughter that followed was genuine, and for a brief moment, the weight of court politics, hidden agendas, and the looming uncertainties ahead faded into the background.

For now, it was just them. And for once, Beatrice didn’t mind.

Beatrice watched as the seamstresses continued their meticulous work, pinning fabric samples to mannequins and adjusting measurements with practiced ease. The queen and Johanna remained poised, offering occasional input, while Lila looked increasingly impatient.

Beatrice, however, found herself studying Queen Cecile.

The woman had always been something of a mystery. In the novel, she had been a background figure. Regal, wise, and supportive of her family, but rarely a key player in the drama. Yet now, sitting across from her, Beatrice couldn’t help but feel like she was missing something.

"You seem deep in thought, Lady Beatrice," the queen observed, her eyes sharp despite her soft smile.

Beatrice blinked, caught off guard. "I suppose I’m just... trying to understand the appeal of all this." She gestured vaguely at the gowns.

Queen Cecile chuckled. "And what conclusion have you come to?"

Beatrice considered it. "That fashion is just another kind of battlefield."

Johanna tilted her head. "How do you mean?"

"Everyone’s trying to make a statement, whether they realize it or not. The right gown can command respect, the wrong one can invite scrutiny. It’s like court politics, but with silk and embroidery."

Lila hummed. "That might be the first intelligent thing you’ve said today."

Beatrice gasped. "I am deeply wounded."

"Good," Lila muttered.

Queen Cecile, however, looked amused. "You’re more perceptive than you let on, Lady Beatrice."

Beatrice gave a lazy shrug. "I have my moments."

Johanna’s smile was thoughtful. "You always act so carefree, but I think you see more than people give you credit for."

Beatrice blinked at her, not expecting that level of observation. She recovered quickly, flashing a grin.

"Oh no, you’ve figured out my secret. I do, in fact, have a brain."

"Debatable." Lila rolled her eyes.

Beatrice stuck out her tongue.

The seamstresses, now accustomed to the group’s dynamic, continued their work without interruption. A few of them exchanged amused glances, clearly entertained by the banter.

After a while, Queen Cecile rose from her seat.

"I believe I’ve made my selections. Lady Beatrice, Lady Johanna, Princess, thank you for indulging me today."

Beatrice arched an eyebrow. "Indulging? You make it sound like we had a choice."

The queen chuckled. "Fair enough."

Lila stretched, clearly relieved. "Finally. I was starting to think we’d be trapped in here forever."

Johanna gave a polite nod. "It was an enjoyable morning, Your Majesty."

Queen Cecile smiled at her before turning to Beatrice. "And you, Lady Beatrice?"

Well..." Beatrice hesitated, then exhaled. "I suppose this wasn’t the worst way to spend the day."

"High praise, indeed." The queen chuckled.

As the seamstresses packed up and the group began to disperse, Beatrice found herself lingering behind for just a moment.

The laughter, the lighthearted teasing, the absence of scheming or politics, this wasn’t how these interactions had gone in the novel.

And yet...

It felt real.

And for now, that was enough.