"Hahaha."
The laugh slipped out before I could stop it. I slammed my hand over my mouth, praying no one noticed.
"And what's so funny, Seraphina?"
Her voice—my mother's—was calm, clipped, and somehow completely unreadable, even as she cut delicately into her meal.
Oh no. Stupid Nero.
"Nothing, Mother," I said quickly, trying to sound normal.
Her fork froze midair. Slowly, she turned to me, eyes wide, like I'd just announced my plan to elope with the butler.
"Mother?" she repeated, voice trembling slightly. "You called me… Mother?"
Uh-oh.
Nero, I hissed silently. Why does she look like she's about to cry?
[Ah. Right. I may have forgotten a tiny detail about Seraphina.]
A tiny detail? I thought, mentally backing up. She looks like she's seen a ghost!
[Well… Seraphina usually called her mum or ma. So, you know, hearing you say "Mother" all proper and formal is a bit… unsettling.]
I blinked. Seriously? That's it? I almost caused an emotional breakdown over word choice?
[You're in a noble family, not a marble exhibit. Villainess or not, you don't have to sound like a taxidermied duchess.]
"Oh, dear," the Duchess murmured, turning toward the Duke with wide eyes. "She called me Mother. Do you think the fever affected her memory?"
She actually clutched his hand like she might faint.
Internally, I groaned. Nero, next time maybe warn me before I traumatize the family with vocabulary.
[Consider it noted.]
"I'm fine," I said quickly. "Really, Mother—uh, Mum. Mum! I just… felt like being formal."
Her expression softened immediately, eyes glistening. She moved to my side, worry melting into relief.
"Seraphina, dear, are you sure you're alright?" she asked, brushing a strand of my hair back.
I hadn't expected that. Not from the kind of noble family I'd imagined. Weren't Dukes supposed to be terrifying and emotionally constipated?
"Yes," I said softly. "I'm alright. Just… still getting used to everything, I suppose."
She smiled faintly, and I swore I saw her shoulders relax. "That's good. You gave us quite a scare, sleeping so long."
I nodded, trying not to snort. For a woman who supposedly raised a villainess, she looked at me like I was made of glass.
Nero, aren't we supposed to be a cool, emotionally detached family?
[Host, just because you've read that villainesses are cold and dramatic doesn't mean they can't have feelings.]
That… actually made sense. Maybe being a villainess wasn't about being heartless—it was about owning the chaos with style.
Mum eased back into her seat, though her gaze still lingered on me like she was afraid I'd vanish mid-bite.
"Are you alright, dear? You gave us quite the scare," Father said. His tone was deep, steady, but there was something softer in it—something like worry.
"I'm fine," I said, nodding. "Sorry to worry you guys."
The Duke raised a brow but didn't comment on the "guys." Progress, I thought.
Nero, later, you need to tell me everything about Seraphina. I'm so lost right now.
...Nero?
Silence.
Where was he? I was pretty sure systems weren't allowed to go offline mid-conversation.
Nero? I called again, but nothing.
"It's alright, dear," Father began, his voice measured, though I caught a flicker of hesitation. "But there's something troubling we have to tell you."
"What?"
Before I could blink, pain shot through my skull—sharp, white-hot, like lightning splitting straight through my brain. I gasped, grabbing my head as the world tilted.
"Seraphina?" Mum's voice reached me like it was coming from the bottom of a lake—muffled, distant, warped.
The room blurred, gold and crimson smearing together as my vision spun.
Then Nero's voice slid into my mind, faint but calm.
[Host, don't panic. They're… uh, installing the memories you were supposed to inherit. Took a little longer than expected.]
Installing? What am I, a magical hard drive?
The pain spiked again—then dulled into something warm, heavy. Images flooded in before I could even brace myself. A younger Seraphina in an academy courtyard, the sun catching on silver and sapphire as she lifted her wand. Fire bloomed from her fingertips—controlled, elegant, terrifyingly beautiful.
Nero's voice wavered in the background. [You were the second-best magic student in the royal academy. Second only to the first prince himself.]
A new scene crashed in—Seraphina standing across from a tall boy with sharp blue eyes and the permanent expression of someone convinced the world existed purely to annoy him.
[You're engaged to the second prince,] Nero continued. [Different mother, same royal arrogance. He's… well, jealous of you. Always has been. You're smarter, stronger, and—let's be honest—better-looking.]
Fantastic. My fiancé was a royal tantrum wrapped in entitlement.
[He's been picking on you for years. Then one day he got too bold. He touched your skirt. You slapped him. Twice. In front of half the academy.]
The memory snapped into focus—her hand flying, the sharp crack echoing through the marble courtyard, followed by a stunned silence and a few gasps. His shocked face, red and furious, burned itself into my mind.
Then everything went dark again.
When I came to, my hands were gripping the edge of the table so tightly my knuckles were white. My breathing came uneven and shallow, and Mum's voice reached me again, softer this time.
"Seraphina? Are you alright?"
I blinked, forcing my vision to steady. Her worried face came into view, and I quickly forced a smile even though my head still buzzed like someone had shaken up my brain.
"I'm fine," I said, voice a little shaky. "Just… remembered something unpleasant."