The Villainess Refuses to Follow the Script-Chapter 78

Beatrice had been pacing for hours.

The fever had passed. The ache in her ribs dulled. But the weight in her chest hadn’t lifted, not since the failed conversation with the queen. Not since she realized the truth wouldn’t just be dismissed.

It would be silenced.

And now, she needed to try again.

She found Francois in the west courtyard, beneath the stone arches. He stood with his back to her, watching the early frost cling to the fountain’s edge.

She approached slowly. He turned, and when he saw her face, the smile dropped.

"You should be resting."

"I need to tell you something." Her voice was tight. "About the attempt. About my family."

Francois stilled.

Beatrice drew a breath. She opened her mouth.

Pain.

It hit fast. Sharp. Crawling up her spine like fire. Her knees nearly buckled, but she caught herself against the edge of the stone.

"Lady Beatrice?"

She tried again.

But nothing.

The pressure behind her ribs turned blinding. She gagged on the words. The truth wouldn’t come.

Francois was beside her now, gripping her arms. "What’s happening? What are you trying to say?"

She gasped. Her mouth moved, but nothing meaningful passed her lips. She shook her head, furious. Panicked.

"You don’t have to tell me everything," he said quickly. "Just, tell me what you can."

Beatrice gritted her teeth. Her fingers clenched in the folds of his coat.

"I... I can’t."

"Why not?"

But before she could answer, another voice cut through the courtyard.

"Enough."

Magnus stood at the arch, arms crossed, gaze cold.

"Father wants her ready within the hour. The carriages are being prepared."

Francois straightened. "Excuse me?"

"She’s going home." Magnus stepped closer.

Beatrice turned, startled. "What? No!"

"You’ve become a liability," Magnus said, ignoring her. "The longer you stay here, the more attention you draw."

Francois moved in front of Beatrice, blocking her brother’s path.

"She’s not leaving."

"This is family business!" Magnus raised his voice, gaining a few attention in their surrounding.

"She’s not yours to command."

"Then who does she belong to?" Magnus challenged him.

Francois didn’t hesitate. "To me."

Beatrice froze.

Magnus blinked. "What?"

Francois turned his head, voice louder now, firm and deliberate.

"Lady Beatrice Da Ville is under royal protection. Effective immediately. She is not returning to her estate, she is not leaving me."

Her breathing stopped.

A crowd had begun to gather beyond the courtyard gates. Nobles, guards, servants pausing mid-task.

"She stays," Francois continued, loud enough for all to hear. "Because she will be my future queen."

A stunned hush fell over the courtyard.

Beatrice stared at him, mouth gaping in shock.

Not a joke, not a strategy.

A declaration!

Francois turned back to her. And very softly, he said, "You’re not going anywhere. Not unless it’s with me."

She didn’t speak. She couldn’t.

And she wasn’t sure whether to run or stand still and let it claim her. 𝒻𝘳𝘦𝘦𝘸ℯ𝒷𝘯𝘰𝑣ℯ𝑙.𝘤𝑜𝘮

The courtyard was still ringing with the sound of the prince’s voice.

Beatrice couldn’t breathe. She hadn’t moved since he said it. The words still echoed in her head, unshaken. She stays. Because she will be my future queen.

Around them, silence cracked like ice. Courtiers frozen mid-step. Guards unsure whether to intervene. Even Magnus had stopped, his grip on her arm slackening with disbelief.

Only Francois remained steady. Not triumphant, just resolute.

Unbeknownst to them, the Queen was just nearby and has heard the exchange. She stepped forward from the archway with the force of an avalanche dressed in pearls.

"Inside," she said sharply. "All of you."

And like that, the spell broke.

The gathering splintered. Guards herding back the onlookers, servants scattering, nobles glancing to one another with hungry expressions. News would race through the palace like wildfire.

The prince had just declared his queen in public. No one had seen it coming. Especially not Beatrice.

The council chamber doors closed behind them with a grim finality.

Queen Cecile stood at the head of the long table. Francois beside her. Conrad and Ethel Da Ville took the left flank, Magnus stiff behind them. On the right, Lord and Lady Lockhart sat in rigid silence. Their daughter beside them was pale, but composed.

Beatrice stood alone at the center of the room, like a charge awaiting its trial.

"Explain," the queen said flatly, eyes on Francois.

He didn’t flinch. "You asked me to name my alliances. I’ve named them."

"Outside. In front of half the court."

"Better they hear it from me than from rumor."

Queen Cecile turned her gaze to Beatrice. "And you?"

Beatrice swallowed. "I didn’t know he would say that."

"Do you refute it?"

She glanced at Francois but looked away he caught her eyes.

"No."

Silence lorded for a moment.

Lady Lockhart leaned forward, voice like silk over a blade. "Your Majesty, with respect... we were led to believe Johanna had your favor in this matter."

"You had my consideration," Queen Cecile said coolly. "But that was never a promise. Francois is the one who must make the final choice."

"She’s a Da Ville," Lord Lockhart said darkly.

"Yes she is," Francois replied. "And the only one in this room who risked her life for the crown five days ago."

Lady Ethel folded her hands. "And yet no one speaks of what she risked us."

"She saved the king," Francois snapped. "Or would you rather we buried two monarchs?"

The queen raised a hand to stop her son.

She turned to the Lockharts. "Your daughter remains in our favor. Her service to the crown has never been questioned. But the prince has made his choice."

"And what of Beatrice’s loyalty?" Lord Lockhart said tightly. "It’s well known her family—"

"Has not been formally accused of anything," Queen Cecile cut in. "And until that changes, we deal in facts. Not implication."

The Lockharts said nothing further. But their silence hissed.

After Johana’s family left, the doors closed again, and Queen Cecile turned her attention to the Da Villes.

Only this time, her tone shifted.

"You’ve maneuvered your daughter well," she said to Conrad. "Reckless as this was, the crown has now aligned itself with your house."

Lord Conrad didn’t blink. "It was not our design."

"No," Queen Cecile agreed. "But it may still serve you."

Then she turned to Beatrice.

"You now wear a target twice over. This kingdom will expect you to perform as a future queen, and the court will expect you to fail. Do you understand what you’ve invited?"

Beatrice nodded once. "I do."

"You will be questioned. Scrutinized. Not only for what you’ve done, but for what you might do next."

"I won’t fail," Beatrice said.

Queen Cecile tilted her head. "You already nearly died."

Beatrice didn’t reply.

The queen let that hang a moment longer, then dismissed the room with a quiet gesture.

Conrad didn’t move. Not right away. Instead, he waited until the doors were shut again and stepped toward her.

"Well played," he said.

Beatrice stiffened.

"Don’t flatter me."

"I’m not." His voice lowered. "You think this protects you?"

"It bought me time."

Conrad studied her for a long moment. Then leaned close.

"You’ve tied yourself to the crown. That means you rise with it, or die beneath it."

"Then pray it doesn’t fall," Beatrice murmured.

Magnus scowled. Her mother said nothing.

They didn’t try to take her again. They didn’t have to.

Not anymore.