The Villainous Me Turned the Losers into Blackened Bosses-Chapter 90 - She’s a Little Different

“What… what do you mean by ‘other options’? I don’t quite understand.”

Will decided to play dumb.

In social situations like this, when in doubt, playing dumb was the safest move!

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“I don’t understand why you and your father would choose that little girl, Treya.”

—Could it be that Treya was the only age-appropriate option left in the palace?

—You’re a bit old, aren’t you?

Of course, saying that out loud would probably make Eugenie explode with rage, so Will kept it to himself.

“Was it really our choice? Or perhaps… hmm… we didn’t have a choice, and it was all arranged by your royal family.”

“…And what if I were to give you another opportunity?”

Eugenie took a sip of her wine, then licked the red liquid off her lips with her tongue.

“I mean, there are plenty of people in the royal family who’d love to win over your family.”

This wasn’t even a subtle hint anymore—it was practically a direct offer, shoved right in his face!

The more blatant the offer, the harder it was to feign ignorance.

Still…

Will wasn’t entirely surprised that Eugenie, who had once been on the opposing side, was now trying to recruit him.

His gaze shifted slightly toward King Edward.

The man’s health was visibly poor. He sat hunched in his chair, barely engaging with those around him.

It didn’t seem like he had the strength to rule for another decade.

In the fight for the throne, his children would undoubtedly do everything they could to gather resources and allies.

Meanwhile, the noble families outside the palace would scramble to align themselves with the strongest faction, desperate to avoid being caught on the losing side.

But…

Will wasn’t someone who made decisions based on the present. His choices were guided by the “future”—not the future balance of power, but rather who was most intertwined with his own fate.

Besides…

The royal family’s downfall wasn’t just a narrative device used to pad the story.

In the original work, Entark had already…

“Is that so? Well, as the rising star of the Hysterm family, it’s only natural that people would want to win us over. If no one did, I’d have to worry about my family’s prospects.”

Will quickly sidestepped Eugenie’s attempt to poach him.

But…

Eugenie reached out to a nearby servant and grabbed a glass of orange juice—probably because the last time they met, Will had been conspicuously holding a glass of orange juice wherever he went.

“And what if we wanted to collaborate with your family? Just a partnership, nothing more. After all, the dungeon sector… that’s a direction we plan to heavily invest in.”

She held the glass out toward Will.

Will looked at her gesture with distaste.

In the “future” of the original story, she had used him mercilessly. And now, here she was, trying to cozy up to him.

It was clear that Eugenie would exploit anything to her advantage. Even if it meant working with someone she had previously betrayed, she’d “consider it” if it benefited her.

She was a “villain” who had completely abandoned any sense of principle or bottom line.

“You don’t need to be tied down by your role as a fiancé. After all, only the winners get the last laugh…”

The orange juice in her hand swayed slightly before she extended it closer to him.

“Well… forgive me, but—”

Will was about to refuse when the glass of orange juice was suddenly lifted by a slender hand clad in black half-gloves.

“Sister?”

A cold voice interrupted.

A strand of silver hair fell into view.

Treya, dressed in light armor, stepped forward in her small boots and casually took the orange juice.

“It’s been a while… Is this… for me?”

She positioned herself between the two of them, as if deliberately creating distance.

She stared at the glass for a moment before taking a sip.

Will stared at Treya in shock.

Her outfit was exactly the one he had recommended.

Black light armor paired with a fitted black top, the same black stockings, and long leather boots he had specifically chosen for her.

She looked completely different from the cute little princess she used to be.

Even her aura seemed heavier, matching the dark tones of her attire.

Eugenie seemed momentarily stunned by Treya’s transformation.

“You…”

She was at a loss for words, staring at the glass of orange juice she had almost forced into Will’s hands. She looked like she was about to explode in anger.

But she held back.

She didn’t want to ruin her “good sister” act here. Even though Will had saved Treya last time, Treya’s behavior suggested she still hadn’t seen through Eugenie’s true intentions.

If she was going to play the role of the kind older sister, she’d have to play it to the end.

“How’s your health, Treya? You’ve been saying you weren’t feeling well and couldn’t practice swordsmanship with me. I was a bit worried.”

Will was impressed by Eugenie’s ability to switch faces so seamlessly.

“I’m fine.”

Treya deliberately avoided answering her question and moved closer to Will.

“Will…”

She started to say “sensei,” but the word got caught in her throat and she swallowed it back.

“This flavor… it’s quite unique. Would you like to try it?”

“Really? I thought every banquet served the same drinks.”

Having spent so much time with Treya in private, Will didn’t think much of it. He took the glass from her gloved hand and took a small sip.

“It does taste a bit sweeter than usual.”

Will handed the glass back, noticing that Treya’s gaze was fixed on Eugenie. He caught a glimpse of her profile.

Something was off.

Something felt… different.

From the moment she walked in, Will had felt that there was something unusual about Treya.

She was wearing the outfit he had chosen for her.

She had unceremoniously taken the orange juice from her sister.

Her expression was as calm and detached as ever, with a hint of naivety.

And sharing the orange juice because of its unique flavor was a childish gesture.

But…

There was still something inexplicably “off” about her.

Could it be…

Will looked Treya up and down.

From her silver hair to her boots.

Could it be…

He focused on her expression again.

Was it the black half-gloves she was wearing?!

Those weren’t part of the outfit he had picked out for her. She must have chosen them herself.

Not bad! Worth praising!

For once, she had made her own decision when it came to choosing her “blackened” attire. Impressive!

Will gave her a mental thumbs-up.

Details matter—just look at how a pair of gloves completely transformed her aura!

“You two… really are enviably close, aren’t you?”

Eugenie’s voice was laced with bitterness, her grip on her wine glass trembling.

She had been planning to throw a few passive-aggressive remarks at Treya—after all, Treya usually didn’t understand them. But for some reason…

When she looked at Treya today, especially the way Treya stared back at her, she hesitated.

Treya’s pale blue eyes locked onto her with an intensity that made her retreat.

Eugenie could sense that something was off about Treya. First and foremost, it was the outfit…

She had watched Treya grow up but had never seen her wear so much black. The once ethereal elven princess now carried a heavy, somber presence.

—Today is her coronation ceremony. Could it be that… she’s discovered something?

—No, it’s fine. Even if she’s dressed like this, at most she’ll be able to “communicate” with it. There’s no way she’ll be acknowledged.

“Oh, you know… Treya has always been a bit clingy with people she trusts.”

Will responded on Treya’s behalf.

He realized that Treya’s unintentional actions had effectively and decisively shut down Eugenie’s attempts to recruit him.

Not bad. The little princess was proving useful in social situations.

Treya withdrew her gaze from Eugenie and handed the half-empty glass of orange juice to Will.

“Will. It seems they’re about to start. I’ll have to excuse myself for now.”

“Alright.”

“We’ll probably have a chance to meet again later today.”

She nodded at Will with satisfaction.

Without sparing Eugenie another glance, she headed toward the “stage.”

There were ten minutes left until the coronation ceremony’s sword dance.