The worst villain and the tea party

My maid had woken me much earlier than usual. Yesterday, on my birthday and my society debut, I had agreed to attend a tea party.

Though honestly, I’d only said yes to get out of the situation quickly—I hadn’t really thought it through.

After getting ready, the carriage arrived for me. This time, no one was accompanying me. I was alone.

I spent hours staring out the window until we arrived.

The cold had mostly lifted, though not completely. The place had a very autumnal feel—it was the neighboring territory, known as the Territory Thoughts.

I arrived at the girl’s residence: a large mansion made of mud brick with a purple roof. The girl and what I assumed was her mother were already waiting for me.

“A pleasure, Miss Sadine,” the mother said. “I am Gemada Schir, matriarch of the Schir family. It is an honor to meet the daughter of the Schutter family.”

“The pleasure is mine, madam,” I replied, being as polite as I possibly could.

“I hope Axandra hasn’t caused you too much trouble.”

Axandra. So that was her name.

“No, of course not. She hasn’t been any trouble at all.”

“That relieves me. Well, I won’t take up any more of your time.”

The moment she heard that, Axandra quickly grabbed my hand and dragged me to the back garden of the mansion.

Everything was already prepared there: a small but beautifully decorated table, an assortment of sweets neatly arranged, and a maid holding the teapot.

When she finally let go of my hand, I sat in one of the two golden chairs.

Axandra sat too, but neither of us spoke. It felt like neither knew how to start a conversation.

The maid, noticing the awkwardness, poured the tea and spoke up:

“If I may be so bold… both of you look absolutely lovely today.”

“Thank you,” I said, smiling at the maid.
“I’m sure you were both very excited to have tea and chat, so I won’t interrupt any longer.”

She left slowly, taking the teapot with her.

Truthfully, I wasn’t there because I wanted to be—I’d only agreed to get out of an awkward moment quickly, and then completely forgot about it.

In fact, I had even considered pretending to be sick.

Axandra’s eyes suddenly filled with tears. Had I done something wrong?

“W-what’s wrong? Are you okay?”

“You… you didn’t want to be here with me…” she said between sobs.

“What? No, I never said that.”

“But you thought it…”

Now that I remembered—in the game there were people who could read minds.

Was she…? And her surname sounded familiar… damn it.

I looked at Axandra again.

She was still, cheeks flushed, head bowed toward the ground.

“Yes… I can read minds. And what do you know about my surname…? Why do you know that? What is ‘the game’ to you?”

How the hell was I supposed to explain something as complicated as this to a child like her?

“Explain what?”

I sighed. There was no point overthinking it. I had to speak. She would find out everything eventually anyway.

“Well… I’m from another…” I sighed again. I needed to make this simpler. “I know what’s going to happen in the future, and in it… I die.”

“That’s why during your debut you thought you were the villainess?” 

 Seriously, had I really thought that out loud? I needed to be more careful.

“Yes. In the end, the heroine of this story is going to finish me off.” I reached out and gently wiped the remaining tears from her face with the back of my hand.

“So… this is like a fairy tale?”

“Something like that.”

“And you’re the villainess in the tale?”

“Yes… something like that,” I murmured while still drying her tears. “I’m the villainess who dies at the end so the main couple can kiss under the rain or whatever cheesy thing they do in these stories.”

Axandra looked up at me with those huge, still-glistening eyes.

“And you can’t… change it?”

I let out a short laugh. Who would’ve thought my strategy was the same as a little girl’s.

“Change the script? Trust me, I’ve thought about it—a lot—but I don’t know how.”

She frowned, like she was trying to solve a very complicated puzzle.

“Then… why did you come today? If you knew you didn’t want to be here…”

The question hit me hard.

I lowered my gaze to the table, staring at the little pastries, trying to think of what to say.

“Because… I guess it’s what a noble is supposed to do. And even if the words are lies, they have to be kept.”

Axandra stayed quiet for a long time. Then, very slowly, she placed her hand on top of mine.

“I don’t want you to die.”

I felt something strange in my chest—something… uncomfortable?

“It’s not like I want to either,” I admitted quietly. “But I don’t know how to avoid it without ruining the story for everyone else.”

She squeezed my hand a little harder.

“Then tell the story to go fuck itself.”
I looked at her in shock.

“What?” I was way too confused. Since when did little girls curse?

“Tell it to go fuck itself,” she repeated. And for the first time she didn’t sound like a crying child—she sounded… determined. “If the story says you have to die, then fuck the story. I’ll help you.”
For a second I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry myself.

“You? Seriously?”

She blushed all the way to her ears, but she didn’t let go of my hand.

“Yes… I want to help you with everything…”

I sighed again, longer this time.

“Look, Axandra… if you keep saying things like that, I’m going to end up getting attached to you. And that would actually be a problem. Because you could end up hurt. You could die, or…”

She gave a small, almost shy smile.
“And what does that matter?”

And for some reason, right in that moment… maybe—just maybe—it would be possible to change the ending of this story I didn’t even fully understand.

“Thank you so much for your help. I really mean it, from the bottom of my heart.”

Axandra’s eyes lit up.

“No problem at all,” she said quickly. “I really want to help you.”

I fell silent, staring at the little pastries that were still there—perfect and untouched.

“Thank you,” I murmured again.
Axandra glanced toward the mansion for a second. Her face looked uneasy.

“Hey… do you want to meet someone else?”

“Who?”

“My brother. Lirian.”

I froze.

“Brother… Lirian…” In that moment, everything clicked. Lirian was one of the villains from the game—the main one in his own route.

She gave a small, nervous laugh.

“Yeah. He’s also a villain in the story. That’s why I invited you to the tea party.”
I blinked.

“And why are you telling me this now?”

“Because I thought you’d want to know more about him. Plus, my mother thought that the more alliances we make, the better it would be for improving the country.”

“I see… what a dangerous family.”

“Come on,” she said, taking my hand again. “Just for a little while. If he doesn’t want to see us, we’ll leave. I promise.”

I looked at her. She had those big, determined eyes.

“Okay…”

We walked up long hallways inside the Schir mansion. It wasn’t anything like mine, but it clearly belonged to someone wealthy.

We reached a dark door that was closed.
Axandra knocked softly.

“Lirian… it’s me. I brought someone.”

There was a very long silence.

Until a voice from inside broke it.

“Who?”

“Sadine Schutter.”

More silence.

The door slowly opened on its own.
We went in.

The room was an organized chaos: books stacked almost to the ceiling, a dim lamp, and a huge desk.

There he was, sitting with messy purple hair, sleeves rolled up, and dark circles under his eyes.

He had an open history book in front of him.

“So what do you want, Axa?”

Axa? Was that a cute nickname for Axandra?

“Excuse me,” I said, crossing my arms. “It’s not polite to ignore guests.”

He finally looked at me. His eyes were cold gray—analytical, like a real villain.

“Sadine, right? What are you doing here? I didn’t know someone like you would visit someone poorer.”

“Why wouldn’t I visit others? Shouldn’t a noble think first about those with fewer resources?”

“So in your eyes, I’m someone with fewer resources? How selfish…”

Damn it. I think I just ruined the conversation.

“Stop it, both of you,” Axandra said. “You sound like actual villains.”

Seriously? Did I really look like a villainess? I wasn’t sure if that was good or bad…

“Lirian,” Axandra continued, “Sadine is like you.”

“What do you mean?” Lirian stood up from his chair. His posture was a little crooked.

“She’s also a reincarnated person.” Axandra’s innocent voice somehow managed to calm me down.

“Really?” Lirian asked. “You’re reincarnated?”

“Yes. My real name was Kagawa Mozzu, and I was Japanese,” I replied with a smile.

“THAT’S AMAZING!” Lirian shouted. “Incredible! And here I thought I was alone… so you also reincarnated into a villainess? Have you already met the heroine? Aren’t you scared of dying? Have you tried changing that serious villainess face of yours?”

“Uh…”

“Oh, sorry—sorry, my manners. I’m Lirian Schir, but before reincarnating my name was Lillian Carter, an American girl obsessed with Japanese games.”

“Oh… that’s incredible…”

“I know, sorry if I talk too much. I’m just excited. I’ve gone so long without anyone to talk to about my world. I mean, I had my sister and mom, but they don’t understand those terms…”

He stepped closer and took both my hands. Up close, his personality felt very feminine… wait a second.

“Lillian?”

“Yeah, what’s up?”

“Isn’t that a girl’s name?”

“Oh, yeah. I was a woman before reincarnating, and now I’m a man. It took a while to get used to it, but I don’t care anymore.”

“That’s… a lot to process…”

“Yeah, it’s complicated. How about we talk tomorrow? Axa, invite her again tomorrow, and the day after, and—"

“I don’t think I have that much time,”  Axandra interrupted.

“Oh, right. Well, invite her some other day. I want to talk a lot with her.”

After a while longer of that crazy conversation with Lirian, Axandra dragged me out of the room because it was already getting late.

“We’ll see each other soon, Sadine,” he said, eyes still sparkling with excitement. 

 “Don’t die before you tell me if you’ve met the heroine, okay?”

I gave a slightly forced smile, nodded, and left with Axandra.

We went down the stairs in silence. She squeezed my hand the whole way, as if she was afraid I’d disappear.

We reached the garden again. The tea had gone completely cold, and the little pastries remained untouched. Despite being a tea party, we hadn’t taken a single sip.

“Sorry about my brother,” Axandra murmured. “When he gets excited, he talks a lot and very fast.”

“It’s fine,” I replied, even though my head was still spinning. “It’s… strange to have someone who actually understands all of this.”

She smiled.

“So you’ll come tomorrow?”

“I don’t know,” I said honestly. “I have to see what happens at home, and… I don’t want to get you in trouble.”

“It’s no trouble,” she insisted. “Just let me know if you can.”

I nodded, but I didn’t promise anything.
The same maid from before appeared with my coat and accompanied me to the entrance.

Axandra gave me a quick, tight hug, as if she didn’t want to let go.

“Take care of yourself,” she whispered.
“You too,” I said, and patted her on the back.

I climbed into the carriage alone again.
The ride back was long. I stared out the window the entire time. The autumn landscape of the Territory Thoughts gradually turned grayer as night fell.
I thought about Lirian—about Lillian—and how he had shouted “THAT’S AMAZING!” as if we’d been best friends forever.

I thought about Axandra, who had cried because she didn’t want me to die.
And I thought that maybe… maybe not everything was completely lost.
But I was still scared.

The carriage stopped in front of my mansion.

I got out. The maid opened the main door for me, and I went inside without saying much.

I went straight up to my room and threw myself onto the bed without changing.
I stared at the ceiling for a long time.
Tomorrow would be another day in this shitty fairy tale, but now I had two people who didn’t want it to end the way the script said.

Maybe that was enough to keep trying.
Maybe it wasn’t.

I closed my eyes, and for the first time in a long while, I wanted to fall asleep just so I could stop thinking about my own death.

Ehal opened the door and didn’t let me sleep.

“Sadine…” His voice sounded angry.

 “Didn’t you say we were going to practice magic today? What happened? You were gone all day and left me alone with my fiancée…”

“Oh, right…”

“What do you mean ‘oh, right’? We’re training all night. I won’t let you sleep until you manage to do something that surprises me.”

“I want to help too,” Ahriel said, walking into my room.

“Don’t you two know that bedrooms are private and it’s not normal to just barge in like that?”

“Doesn’t matter,” they both said at the same time.

They dragged me out to the courtyard to train. Honestly, I didn’t complain—I wanted to see if I could finally pull off Avis Glacialis.

The courtyard was dark, lit only by the moon and a few torches that Ehal lit.
They finally released me in the center. The cold from the stone floor climbed up my bare feet.

“Good,” Ehal said, crossing his arms, still looking grumpy. “Show me how much you’ve improved while I wasn’t around.”

I sighed, fixed my messy hair, and extended my hands forward.

I concentrated, took a deep breath, remembered the words he had taught me, drew the cold from the surroundings, and tried to shape it.

“Avis Glacialis,” I pronounced clearly, trying to keep my voice from shaking.
Nothing happened.

Just a normal cold wind—the kind that comes out effortlessly.

Ehal chuckled under his breath.
It had been a long time since I failed a spell, but he didn’t know what I was trying to do. Maybe I could still surprise him.
I tried again, closing my eyes.

The cold became an invisible thread. I shaped it and threw it with all my strength.

Failed again—though at least I made a decent snowball this time.

I tried once more, eyes closed, focusing only on Avis Glacialis.

Nothing else—not the voices, not the weather, not the moon. Just me and my thoughts.

I pushed it from the center of my chest toward my hands, imagining wings unfolding slowly and perfectly.

Failed. A freezing breath escaped and crystallized my exhale, but no feathers formed.

Again. I pressed my palms together and tried to mold Avis Glacialis layer by layer, like glass paper, starting from the wingtips.

Failed. A white shadow appeared in the air and dissolved before it could take shape, leaving only the smell of wet snow.

I kept going, slower this time, feeling every imaginary nerve in the wings, extending the cold finger by finger.

Failed. The cold got trapped in my wrists, stiffening them, but nothing came out. My joints just ached.

Again. I breathed deep and launched Avis Glacialis thinking of the exact wrist movement from the game—it was some weird flick in the animations.

Failed. A silver flash appeared for a blink and vanished without a trace.

My lips were turning purple from the cold, my arms trembling, though the necklace was starting to warm me and prevent actual freezing.

I tried without moving, concentrating everything on the tip of my tongue and releasing it as a silent word.

Failed. The air around my mouth chilled, but no wings formed. I just coughed white vapor.

Again. I pushed it upward from my feet, thinking maybe starting from the ground would make the wings more stable.

Failed. The floor gleamed for a second and turned slippery, but nothing winged emerged—just a thin sheet of ice that cracked when I shifted my weight.

I kept trying, slower each time because I no longer had energy for big movements.
Failed again. A faint glow sketched the outline of a wing in the air for half a second before dissolving like smoke.

Ehal suddenly burst out laughing—loud, as if he had been holding it in until now.I didn't look at him. I just kept going. Stopping now would mean admitting that Avis Glacialis would never be mine.

Failed again. I was desperate. This spell was incredibly powerful in the game—if I didn’t master it, my death would come much sooner.

A warmth began to spread across my back. I turned slightly—Ahriel was right behind me, her hand pressed gently against my spine. Just her touch was warming me.

She didn’t say anything. She just stayed there, steady and quiet, letting her heat flow into me while I kept trying.

"Sadine, what are you trying to do?" Ehal asked, approaching.

"I… I was thinking of making a bird of snow that could fly."

"Don’t even try it. Snow can’t create life. We are the opposite of ice, and that’s why we’re like this."

So… it was impossible. But in the game Sadine did it. Was everything really so different?

"What if instead of creating cold, you draw it out?" Ahriel’s voice pulled me from my thoughts.

"What do you mean?"both Ehal and I asked at the same time, equally confused.

"Create the bird’s shape with snow, its bones with ice".Ahriel said, drawing in the snow I had created the rough physiology of a bird "Use that too to form muscles and veins."

"Even so, it won’t work" Ehal said "It’ll just be a very realistic ice statue."

"No, it won’t be if you give it heat. When you do, remove the cold from its heart, warm it just a little, creating water that circulates through its veins. Maybe then it can fly."

"And how do you know so much about birds?" I asked, genuinely curious.

"Because my family can transform into animals, so I know a lot about them."

Right. I had completely forgotten that detail from the game.

I tried again this time following exactly what Ahriel had just said. Because if Sadine managed it in the game, maybe it wasn’t impossible after all. Maybe I was just doing it wrong.

I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and began gathering the cold to work with.
I molded it with my hands as if it were cold clay, shaping the bird: wings spread, beak, tail—everything exactly as it appeared in her drawing.

With ice I formed the bones—hard and thin—placing them inside the snow like a frame, feeling how the cold hardened into straight lines.

Then the muscles: more packed snow, soft yet firm. The veins: thin threads of transparent ice running beneath the surface.

Everything stayed still. A perfect statue of snow and ice, gleaming under the moonlight.

It wasn’t enough. It was just a pretty figure that didn’t move.

So I followed Ahriel’s final instruction. I removed the cold from the center—from the bird’s heart—and warmed it just a little, pulling the chill away from there.

The ice at the heart melted slightly, turning to water that began to circulate through the veins I had made—slow at first, then faster.

The bird trembled.

Its wings twitched a little. The beak opened and closed once.

I stared at it, not breathing, terrified that if I blinked it would shatter.

The water kept circulating. The external cold balanced with that small internal warmth, and suddenly the wings opened fully.

The bird of snow and ice lifted off—low and shaky at first—but it flew in a circle around the courtyard, leaving behind a trail of fine flakes that fell slowly.

They were probably falling because it was melting little by little from the heat inside.
It completed three full circles. The ice didn’t melt completely—because it was nighttime, the surrounding cold kept it together.

Then it descended slowly and landed on my shoulder. Cold, but not freezing. Its wings folded, and it stayed still, looking at me.

It didn’t last long—maybe ten seconds—before the balance broke. My body heat probably made it melt faster, and it ended up soaking my shoulder.

But it had flown.

I had done Avis Glacialis—even if only for a short moment.

I stared at the melting pieces, heart pounding.

Ehal didn’t laugh this time. He just stood there, arms crossed, looking at the ground. Ahriel smiled.

I didn't say anything. I just felt that maybe maybe—I really could change something.

Even if it was only a snow bird that flew for a moment and then broke.

Suddenly applause started. Ehal was smiling and clapping.

"Looks like you surpassed the master —he said". You even created a new way to use magic.

He sounded proud… and a little nostalgic.

"I always knew you would do it, Sadine" Ahriel said, still smiling.

"Yeah… I did it."

I couldn’t help but smile. I had achieved something impossible. I felt unstoppable.
And then…

A shiver ran through me. I was in a dark place. As I moved forward, there were corpses everywhere: Ahriel’s, Ehal’s, my father’s, Axandra’s… even Lillian’s.
I took a few more steps and there—my own corpse, completely dead.
I woke up.

It had all been a nightmare.
Apparently, after managing to create the bird, I had fainted.

But that dream had shown me something: at any moment I could lose this happiness. I had to prepare.
I sat up in bed, heart still racing, staring into the darkness of my room.

Tomorrow I would train again. Harder. Smarter.

Because if I didn’t, the nightmare might become real.