The worst villain and the picnic

It had already been a week since my cousin’s fiancée arrived.

Today we had agreed to have a picnic just the two of us, since my cousin had fallen ill—or maybe he was pretending to be ill so he wouldn’t have to see her.

The two of us headed to the outskirts of the city, to the Iceberg Forest 

“What lovely sun today,” Ahriel said. “The days here are almost always so cloudy.”

“That’s because of the power of the Ice Tree,” I replied. “If you don’t like it, you can just leave.”

“Sadine, I didn’t know you loved your city so much.”

The truth was I didn’t care about the city at all; I just wanted her to go away. But of course I couldn’t say that.

“It’s the bare minimum a noble should do.”

“You’re more serious than I first imagined.”

“I’m just being what people expect me to be.”

“You shouldn’t worry so much. You’re still a child; you should enjoy your childhood more.”

I would if I weren’t going to die—that was the only thing I could think. I didn’t answer her, and we kept walking until we reached a small meadow.

“What a beautiful place,” we both said at the same time.

Ahriel let out a small laugh, then spread out the blanket.

I, on the other hand, plopped down abruptly onto the grass.

“I suppose for someone from outside, all of this seems exotic,” I murmured, taking out the basket.

Ahriel sat cross-legged, impeccable.

“Don’t be so cold, Sadine. I organized this picnic so we could get to know each other better. After all, soon we’ll be… family.”

Family. From the little I remembered of the game, the “Schutter family” ended with my body frozen solid, my father murdered by a mob, my cousin fleeing from everything, and Ahriel impaled.

I remembered how horrible the game used to get, even though they never showed many of those scenes.

I took out a sandwich and tossed it to her.

“Here. Maybe walking made you hungry.”

She caught it effortlessly and took a bite; her face couldn’t hide how delicious it was.

“It’s delicious. Did you make it yourself?”

“No, the cook did. I could only burn water.”

In my previous life I had burned instant ramen. Here they wouldn’t even let me near the kitchen for “noble safety” reasons.

Ahriel laughed softly, like little bells.

“You’re funny when you want to be. Your cousin hardly ever talks about you.”

“Speaking of my cousin… why do you insist so much on seeing him? He’s sick, you know. Really sick. Coughing, fever, weird spots on his skin… it might be contagious.”

I made up the spots on the spot; it sounded serious enough to scare anyone away.

Ahriel blinked once, then gave an even wider smile.

“Poor thing. What a shame. But nobles must fulfill our duties, don’t we? Even if he’s bedridden, a brief visit won’t hurt him.”

Damn it, she didn’t flinch—just like the little I remembered of her in the game.

“Besides,” she continued, leaning slightly toward me, “I’m worried he’s so isolated. Maybe he needs… warmer female company. Someone who isn’t so… cold?”

She looked straight into my eyes.

She was calling me cold to my face.

Besides, I’d rather he stayed isolated. In the game he was a womanizer, and that always made his fiancée insanely jealous.

“Warmer, you say.” I took out an apple and bit into it. “Like the sun in your country? There’s none of that here. The Ice Tree cools even emotions.”

“It’s very sad. That’s why I came to help. Although it’s true I’m not exactly a fan of the cold.”

“Maybe you should leave before the cold reaches you too,” I said, trying to sound threatening, but it came out more like a pout.

“I’ll stay as long as necessary. For my future husband… and for you.”

She extended her hand and tucked a strand of my hair behind my ear.

“Don’t get so angry,” she said in her sweet voice. “Look at how you’re frowning—if you keep doing that, you’ll end up very ugly.”

I wanted to swat her hand away, but all I managed was a low, involuntary growl.

“I’m not a child,” I muttered, staring at the ground.

“Of course you’re not,” she replied, though it sounded exactly like she was humoring a toddler. “You’re a very serious and responsible noble. That’s exactly why I worry about you. A girl so serious needs to have a little fun, don’t you think?”

She pulled a small cupcake from the basket—one I didn’t even remember packing. She broke it in half and offered me a piece.

“Here. Eat something sweet. It’ll calm you down.”

“I don’t want it,” I said, crossing my arms.

“Are you sure?”

She took a spoon and tried to feed it to me.

“I already told you—” She interrupted me by taking advantage of the moment my mouth opened to shove the piece of cake in.

The cake tasted really good—so good that I ended up swallowing the whole bite.

When I looked at her face, she was wearing an expression of proud satisfaction.

“Your country must be very warm,” I said suddenly, trying to make conversation, “with all that sun and everything.”

Ahriel nodded, delighted that I was talking.

“Oh, yes. Very warm, with flowers all year round. Nothing like this cold here.”

“So… why did you come here?” I asked, feigning innocence. “If you hate the cold so much.”

“Because love moves mountains, little one. And your cousin… he’s worth a bit of cold.”

“You don’t really know him,” I blurted out. “My cousin is… boring, irresponsible, and always locked away. He’s not fun at all, and he always shuts me in a box so he doesn’t have to pay attention to me.”

Ahriel laughed softly.

“Oh, Sadine. Don’t say that. He’s charming in his own way. He just needs someone to take care of him. Someone warm.”

She glanced at me sideways.

“Someone like me.”

I felt the blood rush to my face. I wanted to scream at her to get out. To not touch my cousin. To tell her that if she stayed with him, I would die. But I couldn’t say that. It would sound insane.

Instead, I threw the apple I was holding. It rolled across the grass.

“Oops,” she said, without moving. “You dropped it.”

Truthfully, I couldn’t deny her reflexes were impressive.

“I didn’t drop it. I threw it.”

“Ah.” She paused. “Are you angry with me, little one?”

“Don’t call me little one.”

“All right, all right. Sadine.” She pronounced my name slowly, as if it were an affectionate nickname. “I don’t want to fight. I just want us to be friends. Or at least… for you not to hate me.”

She stayed silent for a minute before speaking again.

“You really care a lot about your cousin, don’t you.”

“No.”

“You’re such a little liar,” she said, laughing. “Relax, I’m not going to take your family away from you. I’m not going to take anything.”

“Why do you care so much?” I asked, almost in a whisper.

“Because I’m going to be part of this family. And families take care of each other, Sadine. You, your cousin, all the Schutters… you’re already mine too. Even if you don’t believe it yet.”

She moved a little closer and placed a hand on my shoulder.

“I didn’t come here just for your cousin. I didn’t even know him. I came because I heard what this house is like. Cold. Quiet. Everyone alone in their rooms.”

She paused for a moment.

“You… alone too. I don’t like that. I don’t like the cold in people. I like seeing them happy.”

“I’m not alone,” I lied.

“Of course you’re not,” she said gently. “But sometimes it feels that way, doesn’t it? I used to feel alone in my country too. So much sun, so many people, but no one who really cared.”

She paused and looked up at the sky.

“When I met your cousin… I thought: this boy needs someone to pull him out of that loneliness, and you need someone who doesn’t treat you like a noble child who’s only supposed to be serious. That’s why I’m here. To help. So you don’t have to be so… cold.”

“And what if I don’t want your help?” I said, crossing my arms again.

“Then I won’t help. I’ll leave. But I don’t think that’s what you really want. Because when you look at me, I don’t see hate. I see fear.”

I lowered my gaze. She was right. Fear of dying. Fear that everything would happen exactly like in the game. Fear that she really was the villain I remembered.

But maybe… she wasn’t. Maybe the game didn’t show the truth. Maybe there were more perspectives than the ones the game presented.

“Let’s head back, little one. If we stay any longer, your father will think we got lost in the forest.”

“You’re right, he always worries a lot.” I stood up too, gathered the blanket and stuffed it into the basket as best I could. “And don’t call me little one.”

She laughed quietly and helped me fold it properly.

“All right, Sadine. Serious Sadine.”

We walked back along the path through the Iceberg Forest.

Ahriel walked beside me—not too close, but not far either. Should I keep trying to get rid of her? Or what should I do now? I didn’t know anything anymore.

“You know?” she said suddenly. “When I was a child in my country, my family was big. Lots of cousins, uncles, grandparents. There was always so much noise, always someone looking after someone else. Here… it’s different. Everything so quiet. It makes me a little sad.”

I glanced at her sideways.

“Sad about what?”

“About you. About your cousin. About all the Schutters. You seem… frozen. Not from the cold outside, but in here.” She touched her chest. “Like you’re all so afraid of getting close to each other.”

“We’re not afraid,” I said quickly. “We’re just… like this.”

Ahriel shook her head gently.

“No. You’re not like this. I can see it when you talk about your cousin. Even when you say you don’t care about him, it shows. You worry about him a lot.”

I fell silent. I didn’t know what to say. Because yes, I did worry. After all, in my previous world he had saved me from my own loneliness.

“Your father worries about you a lot too,” she continued. “Even if he doesn’t know how to show it.”

“And you?” I asked at last. “Why do you care so much about us? You don’t even know us.”

She sighed—not sadly, more like she was remembering something good.

“Because when I was alone with your cousin… he told me about you. He said you were the only one who believed he could change. The only one who could stand him. That he started reading books just so he’d have things to talk to you about. That you were the one who picked him up when he came home late, the only one who waited for him when he arrived. I liked that. It made me want to meet the girl who takes care of her family even if she doesn’t say it out loud.”

I felt heat rise to my face. I hadn’t even known he felt that way.

My mind remembered something: the way you romanced Ehal in the game. Ehal had always lived alone and sad, with no one and nothing to understand him. That route was built on trust.

“He’s always so immature,” I murmured.

“I don’t think he’s immature,” she said. “He’s someone who never knew what family love felt like. That’s why I want to stay. I want this family to stop being so cold. I want your cousin to come out of his depression. I want you to smile more. I want you not to be so alone.”

We reached the edge of the forest. The mansion was already visible in the distance, large and gray against the sky that was beginning to turn orange.

Ahriel stopped for a second and looked at me.

“I’m not asking you to suddenly love me. Just… give me a chance. To help. To be part of this. Is that okay?”

I stared at her. In my head the echo of the game still rang: villainess, bad end, death. But this Ahriel didn’t fit. Nothing fit.

Maybe I was worrying too much. Besides, maybe Ahriel could help me in the future to keep the heroine from falling in love with my cousin.

“I don’t know,” I said at last. “But… I don’t hate you. I like you.”

She smiled wide, as if I had said something incredible.

“That’s already a lot, to start with.”

We kept walking toward the mansion. The wind carried a bit more cold, but that didn’t matter anymore—because I felt warm. I didn’t know if it was because of the necklace or because of Ahriel, but the cold wasn’t affecting me.

We arrived at the main entrance of the mansion. The large wooden doors creaked as they opened, and my maid greeted us with her usual face: a smile.

Actually, she and Ahriel were quite similar to each other—I think I realized that way too late.

“Misses,” she said with a bow. “Mr. Hurd and young Ehal are in the main parlor. They were waiting for you.”

“Perfect. Come on, Sadine.”

She took me by the arm as if we had been lifelong friends and dragged me inside.

I didn’t have time to protest.

In the main parlor they were: my father, seated in his favorite armchair with an open book he wasn’t really reading—it reminded me a lot of my cousin in the library.

Ehal was also there, reclined on the sofa with a blanket over his legs. He looked pale, but not as sick as he had been pretending earlier. When he saw us enter, he lifted his gaze.

Ahriel released my arm and ran straight toward him. Without hesitation.

“Ehal! My poor little sick love,” she said in a loud, happy voice, as if no one else were in the room.

She leaned over the sofa and planted a loud kiss on his cheek.

Ehal turned bright red instantly and turned his face away, deeply embarrassed.

She sat beside him, adjusted the blanket better, and took his hand. Ehal looked even more uncomfortable.

“How are you feeling today? Better? Worse? Tell me everything, don’t hide anything from me.”

Ehal glanced around, awkward because my father and I were there, but Ahriel didn’t seem to notice—or perhaps she simply didn’t care.

“I’m… fine,” he said, his voice weak but with a tiny smile. “Just tired.”

“Oh, my poor baby,” she said, and gave him another kiss—this time on the forehead. She stroked his hair as if he were a child. “You need more sun. And more of me. That cures everything.”

My father, Hurd, cleared his throat from his armchair. He didn’t stand up, but his voice came out grave.

“Ahriel. Manners.”

She turned her head toward him without letting go of Ehal’s hand.

“Mr. Hurd, good afternoon,” she said, winking at him. “Don’t worry, I’m just taking care of Ehal. Someone has to do it, right?”

Hurd sighed but said nothing more. He returned to his fake reading.

I remained standing at the door, watching everything as if it were a scene from a completely different game.

Ahriel was… too much. Kisses, hugs, shameless sweet words. In my head, the “villainess” from the game was cold, calculating, manipulative. Not this person who seemed to melt the ice of the entire mansion just by being there.

Ehal finally looked at me.

“Sadine… how was the picnic?”

“Fine,” I said curtly. “Normal.”

Ahriel laughed and looked at me.

“Don’t be shy, Sadine. Tell him. We ate cupcakes, talked about family, and now we’re all together. Isn’t it lovely?”

She stood up for a second, came over to me, and gave me a quick hug around the shoulders.

“Thank you for the picnic, little one. I loved it.”

Then she went back to Ehal, sat down again, and rested her head on his shoulder.

“Ehal, promise me you’ll go for a walk with me tomorrow. Even if it’s just a little. The fresh air will do you good.”

Ehal nodded, red as a tomato.

“Okay… if you want.”

“I want it very much.”

My father slammed the book shut.

“That’s enough for today. Ahriel, if you’re going to stay, at least have dinner with us. And Sadine… go change. You have grass on your skirt.”

I nodded quickly and left the parlor. As I climbed the stairs, I could still hear Ahriel’s voice talking to Ehal, soft and affectionate.

“I love you, little sick one. Don’t die of boredom without me, okay?”

And Ehal replied with something I couldn’t quite hear, but it sounded… happy.

I stopped in the hallway. My heart was pounding hard.

This wasn’t the game I remembered. None of this.

Perhaps it never really was.

My maid prepared my bath and dressed me in a new dress.

Before going down, I went to my room and crossed out the plan about my cousin’s engagement from my diary.

“It seems like all that’s left is to be the perfect villainess… or lead the heroine down a different route.”

I went down to the dining room. Everyone was already seated.

My father at the head of the table. Ehal to his right, and Ahriel right beside Ehal, with her hand resting on his arm.

Hurd ate slowly. Ehal responded to Ahriel with small smiles. Ahriel spoke to him in a low voice, occasionally giving him little kisses on the cheek and serving him more food.

I sat down in my place and began eating in silence.

After a while, Hurd set down his fork and looked at everyone.

“Tomorrow we will announce something important,” he said in a serious and very calm voice. “Sadine turns nine in one week, and I’ve decided to present her to society.”

There was a moment of silence before he continued.

“Although the formal presentation to society is usually at ten, we are going to move everything forward by a full year. Sadine is very important and brilliant. She deserves for the family to show her to the world before anyone else.”

Ahriel clapped softly, delighted.

“How wonderful! Sadine, you’re going to shine. I’ll help you with the dress and anything you need.” She looked at me with bright eyes. “It’s going to be your night.”

Ehal nodded, still a little red from the earlier kisses.

“Congratulations, Sadine. You deserve it. And maybe you’ll find a good man.”

Hurd kept speaking.

“It will be a grand party. We will invite noble families from across the entire continent. Of course there will be a ball, with the best musicians we can hire—everything so that our Sadine is the center of attention. And Ahriel… you too will be presented as Ehal’s fiancée. That way the family will be truly united.”

Ahriel leaned over and kissed Ehal on the cheek again, firmly this time.

“Thank you, Mr. Hurd. I’ll make sure it’s an unforgettable night. For Sadine and for all of us.”

I only nodded. I said nothing. In my head the same thoughts kept spinning: perfect villainess or change the route. But now with a party standing in the middle.

The dinner continued calmly. Ahriel talked about flowers and colors for the party. Ehal listened to her smiling. Hurd nodded from time to time. I ate and thought.

At the end of dinner, Hurd stood up.

“Rest well. Tomorrow we begin the preparations.”

Everyone went to their rooms.

I went upstairs thinking about the party. About turning nine. About how everything was being moved forward.

And about how maybe, by now, I no longer knew which one was the bad ending.