Memoirs of Your Local Small-time Villainess

The candles around the room flickered to life with a subtle flick of Scarlett’s wrist, their warm glow illuminating the prone figure on the bed.

Evelyne’s eyes widened slightly as they focused on her. “…Scarlett?” Her voice wasn’t much above a whisper.

Scarlett’s features hardened into a scowl as she regarded the injured woman before her. Evelyne’s face was partially obscured by thick bandages that extended over her left shoulder and arm, the latter secured in a sling. The bedcovers hinted at further injuries concealed beneath, painting a grim picture of their severity. Evelyne’s skin, where visible, was ashen and slick with a feverish sheen.

The anger simmered inside Scarlett as she watched the younger Hartford sister struggle to sit up, her movements punctuated by barely suppressed winces until she finally managed to lean her back against the headboard behind her.

“…Have you received proper treatment yet?” Scarlett’s question cut through the air, harsher than she’d intended.

Prominent lines appeared on Evelyne’s brow. “I…yes, I think a healer looked at me earlier.”

“You ‘think’?” Scarlett’s tone sharpened.

“I wasn’t fully conscious, but I’m fairly sure,” the woman admitted, her uninjured hand resting on the bedsheet.

Scarlett’s gaze drifted to the cluttered side table, littered with bandages and other medical implements. Were they talking about an actual healer or simply your conventional physician? Injuries like these usually required immediate attention for magic to work effectively, and Scarlett wasn’t certain how quickly Evelyne had been treated.

Maybe Rosa could help some. The bard was a capable healer in her own right. If that wasn’t enough, Scarlett also had her connection with Raimond, who might very well be one of the most powerful healers in the empire.

Returning her attention to Evelyne, Scarlett’s glower eased into a frown as she studied the woman. “…Why did you allow yourself to end up in this state?” The question escaped her lips before she had time to process it.

Confusion flashed across Evelyne’s face, followed by a flicker of marginal indignation. “It’s not like I chose to get hurt,” she murmured, her gaze moving to the corner of the room.

Scarlett folded her arms before her chest, her finger drumming an impatient rhythm against her arm. “What exactly happened?”

Evelyne’s expression was tired, and she took a shaky breath before speaking. “I was ambushed by a monster. The Withersworths and I were seeking safety when these portals suddenly materialised, unleashing several of them on us. One of them, like a huge bear, seemed to target me specifically.” Her uninjured hand clenched the sheets under it. “By that point I’d already killed another like it, so I didn’t have the mana to deal with another. Lord Withersworth and I managed to kill most of the other monsters, but that one… I didn’t know what to do, so I had the others flee while I distracted it.”

“You intended to sacrifice yourself?” Scarlett asked, fully aware that this wasn’t the time to be confrontational but failing to keep the intensity out of her voice.

“I was trying to buy time,” Evelyne countered weakly, gesturing to her bandages. “Clearly, it wasn’t enough. I only managed to injure the monster, and I might not have survived if some knights hadn’t arrived when they did.”

Scarlett observed her silently. “…I warned you of the dangers brewing in the empire. Had you heeded my words, you would not have placed yourself in such a perilous situation.”

Even as the words left her mouth, she recognised how unreasonable they were. Borderline hypocritical, even, considering she herself had known of Evelyne’s plans to leave for Autumnwell and had raised no objections.

But at this moment, forget about acting reasonably — it took every ounce of self-control not to storm the Hallowed Cabal’s headquarters and retrieve The Angler Man’s head on a pike.

Evelyne looked back at her, mouth open in slight disbelief. “…How could I have anticipated this? Your ‘warning’ was as vague as they come. And what? Was I supposed to sequester myself in the mansion indefinitely? Let’s not forget that I’m effectively managing the entire barony, not to mention the myriad other projects you’ve assigned me. And if I hadn’t been there in Autumnwell, Lord and Lady Withersworth might both have—”

Her response was cut short by a violent bout of coughing that left her gasping, face contorted in agony.

“Do not overexert yourself,” Scarlett said, her tone laced with the irrational irritation that she was trying to rein in while waiting for the coughing to subside.

Scarlett’s mood had been foul ever since first receiving news of Evelyne’s condition, and seeing the woman in this state only made things worse. Maybe the most maddening part, though, was that she couldn’t even pinpoint the precise root of her frustrations.

Was it fear of losing her ‘sister’, or anger at the Cabal for harming her ‘family’? Was there even a shred of familial affection in these emotions? What if it was more twisted than that? What if she was just upset because something of ‘hers’ had been damaged? Try as she might, Scarlett still couldn’t recall a single instance where she’d felt something that could unambiguously be defined as ‘warmth’ towards Evelyne.

The visceral loathing and dislike that had surged through her upon first encountering Evelyne in this world hadn’t magically disappeared. Scarlett thought she had been managing it better of late, and its intensity might have diminished, but it undeniably still remained. This lingering antipathy made it nearly impossible for her to decipher her current feelings.

As Evelyne’s coughing subsided, she looked up at Scarlett, hesitating as if there was more to say. Instead, she averted her gaze, eyes roaming the room aimlessly. “…Just to confirm,” she eventually began, “these attacks were the impending disaster you warned me about, right?”

Scarlett observed her for another few seconds, then gave a slow nod. “They were.”

“And I presume the Tribe of Sin is behind this?”

“That is correct.”

A brief silence blanketed the room as the woman seemed to process that information. Scarlett’s own gaze began to wander, taking in her surroundings. It was her first time in Evelyne’s quarters, but there wasn’t much to see. The younger woman didn’t seem fond of decoration—

Scarlett’s eyes halted on a large portrait partly hidden by a closet. It depicted a family of three in a grand room: a man in his forties with short, dark-red hair and warm amber eyes, exuding a gentle aura, his hand resting on a young girl’s shoulder. Beside him stood a woman who appeared slightly younger, with soft features and long brown hair cascading past her shoulders. The girl in front of them, with shorter auburn hair and matching amber eyes, smiled broadly, a small beauty mark adorning the area beneath her lip.

As Scarlett’s focus shifted from the girl in the painting to the woman, and then to the man, a maelstrom of discomforting emotions roiled within her, her fists clenching unconsciously.

Noticing Scarlett’s reaction, Evelyne spoke softly. “Ah, sorry, Scarlett. I know you don’t like having paintings of father or mother displayed in the mansion, but I thought—”

“Remove it,” Scarlett said, the sheer force in her voice surprising even herself as she turned to face Evelyne.

The woman blinked, studying Scarlett for several long seconds. “…No.”

A cold fury ignited inside Scarlett. She tried to keep it down, since she knew, logically, that her reaction wasn’t right, but controlling it proved too much of a challenge.

“That was not a suggestion,” she stated, her tone glacial.

Evelyne’s expression hardened as she met Scarlett’s icy stare. “I’m not taking it down.”

The air in the room grew heavy with unspoken tension as they locked eyes, the silence between them thick. Finally, Scarlett was the one to look away, her attention shifting to look out a frost-laced window overlooking the estate’s eastern wall.

“…I have instructed Garside to coordinate with Seneschal Kinsley, ensuring all necessary preparations are underway for the relief initiatives,” she stated, her voice detached as she watched the snow-draped beyond the wall. “He will oversee the operations while you are indisposed. I trust everything is set to proceed, despite the premature timing of these attacks?”

From the corner of her eye, Scarlett noticed Evelyne’s posture relax slightly as she sank back into the bed. “Yes, everything is mostly in place. Kinsley should know what to do for now. We’ll need either you or me to handle some of the more important aspects eventually, though, since we’ll be relying on the cooperation of several nobles and other key figures.” She shifted, wincing slightly. “I’ll focus on my recovery so I can get back to work.”

Scarlett’s lips thinned. “I have no expectations of you in your current condition.”

“…What’s that supposed to mean?”

She turned back to the woman, her expression impassive. That had come out worse than intended as well, but she could hardly admit that. “It would be prudent to wait until you are not confined to a bed before resuming your duties.”

“Then are you planning to handle these responsibilities yourself?” Evelyne asked.

Scarlett paused before responding. “I will manage what I can.”

Evelyne’s skeptical look mirrored Scarlett’s own misgivings on the matter. She had very little genuine experience with the administrative aspects of running the barony and its related affairs, not to mention the networking that Evelyne had been primarily handling. She also wasn’t sure how she’d even find the time.

“What about your commitments on the Rising Isle?” Evelyne continued, then stopped as a new thought seemed to occur to her. “Actually, what happened to that? Did you come here straight from the Isle through the Kilnstone? When you left, it seemed important — I wasn’t expecting you to be back so soon, even with what’s going on.”

“I did return via Kilnstone, yes,” Scarlett replied. “And while matters on the Rising Isle remain vital to my goals, they will have to wait until we stabilise the situation here. That includes ensuring your swift recovery. Expect additional evaluations of your condition. I will arrange for Miss Hale to visit after we are done here.”

“But I told you a healer had already looked at me.”

“Miss Hale’s ability is almost certain to surpass theirs.”

Slight surprise showed on Evelyne’s face. “Really…? Well, alright.”

The room lapsed into silence once more. Scarlett continued observing the other woman while fighting to maintain her composure as conflicting emotions warred within her. Evelyne seemed lost in thought, absently rubbing her thumb across her knuckles while chewing her lower lip.

Finally, Evelyne looked up at Scarlett. “What are you going to do from here? Now that the empire is under attack, I mean. What are your plans? What’s going to happen?”

“It depends,” Scarlett answered.

“Depends on what?”

“On the extent of the tribe of Sin’s actions.”

Scarlett had issued some vague warnings and advice to influential figures like Beldon and Godwin, so that might help mitigate the threat in the long run. But given the Cabal’s ability to diverge from fate, there were no guarantees that things wouldn’t turn out worse than she expected. It was hard to tell.

“How far can the Tribe take things?” Evelyne asked, the worry evident in her voice.

“I do not know. They have always posed a significant threat, and it is likely they will continue launching attacks similar to yesterday’s.”

Their primary limitations lay in the frequency with which they could create portals and how quickly they could muster monsters for these assaults. In the game, these had been cyclical events, but reality could prove more unpredictable.

Evelyne’s expression darkened. “What can we do against that?”

“Defend ourselves,” Scarlett stated flatly. “The empire is well-versed in conflicts with the Tribe by this point, so this should not be entirely uncharted territory.”

“This time we’re not just fighting the Tribe, but hordes of monsters,” Evelyne pointed out. “I don’t even understand how they’ve managed to amass and control so many to begin with. It’s completely unprecedented.”

“Not entirely, no. Eight years ago, the dragon of devastation’s attack that resulted in what we now call the Blasted Lands followed a similar pattern.”

Evelyne stared at her. She brushed a stray lock of hair from her face with her uninjured hand. “…You’re saying the Tribe was behind that?”

Scarlett nodded. “They were.”

While technically it had been the Hallowed Cabal, the distinction was largely irrelevant. Back then, the Cabal had also wielded the [Ring of Depravity], and the dragon of devastation’s attack on the empire had served as something of a trial run for the artifact. It had demonstrated that the ring could influence even an ancient dragon, one of the most formidable creatures alive. Controlling a horde of lesser monsters was certainly within the realm of possibility. Though the actual mechanics were more complex and had several caveats, the outcome still spoke for itself.

Concern etched itself across Evelyne’s features as she seemed to search Scarlett’s expression. “What should we do, then? You’ve… You’ve seen what happens, right? There must be some way to stop this madness.”

A flicker of irritation crossed Scarlett’s face. “We have already had this conversation. There is no stopping this. I have made that clear.”

“But we need some kind of response—”

“—The relief effort initiatives are our response,” Scarlett cut in. “That is the extent of what we can feasibly accomplish. I only agreed to those measures to ease your acceptance of our reality. The Tribe’s ambitions extend far beyond mere skirmishes with the empire. My focus lies in thwarting their grand design, not engaging in futile battles that are not mine to fight. Do not ask me to do more than I already am. I cannot achieve the impossible.”

She was angry with the Cabal after witnessing Evelyne’s injuries, yes, but she didn’t want to let her anger drive her to rash decisions that might jeopardise her plans laid for the future.

Even if maintaining that degree of restraint was really difficult right now.

Evelyne seemed poised to argue further, but hesitated, her gaze dropping momentarily, her voice turning softer. “I didn’t mean to ask for more than you can handle. It’s just that, seeing the chaos in Autumnwell and imagining it elsewhere across the empire… How can I stand by and not do absolutely everything in my power to prevent it?” She looked up, her eyes searching Scarlett’s face. “I understand that you might not have cared before, but you’ve changed now, haven’t you? You’re not the same Scarlett I used to know. Surely, you must feel something about all the suffering that’s happening.”

Scarlett’s carefully controlled demeanour cracked, her eyes flashing with a fierce glare. “You do not know me, Evelyne, nor have you ever done so, so do not presume that I share your sentimentalities simply because I have been more lenient recently. No matter how callous it paints me, the plight of faceless others has never moved me as it does you, and that will not change, regardless of whatever transformation you believe my changes have brought.” Her voice lowered, taking on a dangerous edge. “I suggest you temper your expectations of who I am, or we will both end up bitterly disappointed.”

“That’s not—I’m not trying to argue with you, Scarlett.” Evelyne shook her head. “But you can’t tell me that you haven’t changed.”

“Whether I have changed or not is irrelevant,” Scarlett said. She wasn’t sure why the woman’s statement riled her up so, but it did. “What matters is your insistence on projecting your unrealistic expectations onto me because of it.”

Evelyne’s brow furrowed in frustration. “It’s not as if I’m trying to paint you as a saint. I don’t understand why everything has to be a battle with you.”

“Because I find your presence grating,” Scarlett replied, the words escaping before she could rein them in. “It takes all of my current efforts simply to attempt treating you with the dignity and respect you seem to want from me.”

The moment she said it, she knew it was a bad idea. Evelyne recoiled, eyes wide with shock. Several tense seconds passed before she spoke, her voice barely audible. “What did I ever do for you to hate me so…?”

Scarlett stood motionless, watching the hurt and confusion play across Evelyne’s face. “…I cannot answer that.”

She turned and began walking towards the exit, deliberately avoiding looking at the portrait in the corner to not agitate herself even further. “This conversation has veered far from its intended course,” she said, her voice clipped. “I will take my leave. Let us both pretend this exchange never happened.” She paused at the door, one hand on the handle. “…I will have Miss Hale attend to you shortly. Do not be foolish enough to overexert yourself and delay your recovery.”

With that, she left, stopping just outside in the hallway. She shook her head at her own lapse in control, feeling almost as though she’d regressed to her early days in this world when she struggled to manage her reactions around Evelyne.

She didn’t even think she had a legitimate reason for her anger this time. Much of what she’d said had neither come out as intended nor served any purpose, but apologies weren’t really an option for her. The wisest course of action, she decided, was to wait these volatile emotions out before even attempting to further interact with Evelyne.

Hopefully, that wouldn’t take too long. She seriously disliked being at the mercy of feelings and instincts she neither fully understood nor could control. For a moment, she almost pitied the original for whatever past had shaped her into this.

Releasing a deep, pent-up breath, she resumed her walk down the hallway, heading towards her office. Someday, she needed to find out the background for this twisted ‘sister’ relationship, if only to give herself some peace of mind. For now, however, all she could do was cope.

Though she wouldn’t say no to something—or someone—to serve as an outlet for her anger at this moment.