My Step-Daughters Are The Villainesses

Louise walked toward the royal dais with her usual confidence, though each step made her regret agreeing to Ulrich’s request.

Getting the King drunk was one thing.

Getting him drunk enough that he could not participate in the traditional dance, and then convincing him to leave the ballroom without alerting Kaliantha or the court, was another matter entirely.

The closer she came, the more ridiculous it seemed.

Antonias was already drinking. A servant had approached him with a tray, and the King had taken a glass in one hand while keeping the young woman beside him with the other. His fingers circled her wrist as he spoke to her in a small, indulgent voice.

He did not even seem embarrassed.

Kaliantha sat only a few feet away.

The Queen’s face remained composed, but the coldness in her expression was visible from miles away. She watched the crowd rather than her husband, her back straight against the throne, her hands resting neatly in her lap. Someone who did not know her might have assumed she was merely bored by the celebration.

Louise doubted it.

Kaliantha was likely thinking of every insult she could not say aloud.

No one near the dais reacted. Antonias’s behavior was not new. The guards stared forward. The attendants continued their work. Several older nobles politely ignored the King while exchanging smiles that said they had seen this performance too many times to care.

Louise had seen it before as well.

Still, she had never intended to become part of it.

She knew how to use her appearance. A lady who did not understand the effect she had on people was either foolish or lying. Louise knew how to smile at the proper moment, how to make a man feel clever, how to turn a conversation in the direction she wanted without allowing it to become improper.

That was not the same as this.

She was not some woman who survived by throwing herself at powerful men. She was the daughter of a marquis. She had spent years learning how to become the perfect noble lady: beautiful without being vain, charming without being cheap, intelligent without making insecure men feel small.

It had worked.

Louise was definitely the most coveted unmarried woman in this event.

And now Ulrich had asked her to use all of that to entice a married King away from his wife so he could dance with the Queen.

Her smile nearly slipped.

What an absurd request.

What an insulting request.

What did she gain from agreeing? Ulrich’s gratitude, perhaps. If he even remembered to give it. He might regard the entire matter as a practical exchange and offer a curt nod after dancing with Kaliantha.

He could feel indebted, though.

That thought was the only thing that made Louise’s mouth curve again.

Ulrich Van Rubenhart did not like owing people.

Perhaps she could make something of that later.

"What love does to a woman," Louise muttered, sighing to herself.

She reached the dais and let the bitterness vanish beneath a flawless smile.

King Antonias had been speaking to the servant when Louise approached. The girl looked relieved when his hand finally released her arm. She bowed quickly and stepped away with the tray.

Louise took a glass of wine from it.

"Your Majesty."

Antonias turned.

His eyes moved over Louise in a way that made her want to pour the wine over his embroidered collar. Instead, she dipped into a graceful curtsey, lowering her gaze by precisely the respectful amount required.

"Louise," Antonias said.

His smile widened.

"Gods, you have grown into a beautiful woman."

"Your Majesty is generous."

"I am observant." He leaned back on the throne, looking pleased with himself. "You have been hiding from the court all evening. I was beginning to think Marquis Rommels had taken his beautiful daughter somewhere and locked her away from every ambitious son in the capital."

Louise smiled.

"My father has never been able to make me do anything I do not wish to do."

Antonias laughed.

"Then he has my sympathy."

Kaliantha’s eyes moved toward Louise.

The Queen said nothing, but Louise felt the weight of her attention. It was neither friendly nor hostile. Kaliantha simply watched, assessing what Louise intended.

That was fair.

Louise would have done the same.

"I brought Your Majesty wine," Louise said, extending the glass.

Antonias accepted it from her hand.

"You brought it yourself?"

"I thought the servants had been working too hard to be interrupted every few minutes."

The King glanced toward the servant he had held in place moments earlier.

The girl lowered her eyes.

Antonias did not appear ashamed.

"Considerate," he said. "And very unlike most young ladies here. They spend all night trying to get my attention, yet none of them thinks to bring me a drink."

Louise’s smile became a little warmer.

"Perhaps they believe Your Majesty already has enough admirers."

Antonias laughed again, louder this time.

Kaliantha’s expression did not change.

"You always knew how to speak well," the King said. "Your father must be very proud."

"He is."

"And are you enjoying the celebration?"

"It has been interesting."

"That sounds like a woman trying to avoid giving an honest answer."

Louise tilted her head. "Would Your Majesty prefer honesty?"

"Always."

She glanced toward the ballroom.

"I find court celebrations exhausting. Everyone watches everyone else. Every dance becomes a statement, every conversation a rumor, every smile an invitation for someone to invent a story about it."

Antonias nodded as though Louise had confided a difficult truth.

"You are wiser than the other girls your age."

"I am not so young, Your Majesty."

"No," he said, his gaze lingering. "You are not."

Louise held his attention with her smile and fought the urge to look away.

Any noble was good, but this was literally the King, so even she felt her nerves on edge.

She needed him to drink.

More than that, she needed him to leave willingly. A drunk King who remained seated beside Kaliantha was useless. Antonias needed a reason to rise, preferably one that would lead him away from the ballroom the dance would be announced.

"Your Majesty," Louise said, "I heard you have received a new vintage from the southern vineyards."

Antonias’s eyebrows rose.

"Who told you that?"

"My father mentioned it. He said the royal cellars acquired several bottles from Valeronne."

"They did." The King’s face brightened with genuine interest. "A gift from their ambassador."

"I have never tasted Valeronne wine," Louise said, allowing a trace of disappointment into her voice. "They say it is stronger than Skargardian wine, but smoother."

Antonias lifted his current glass.

"This is not it."

"I assumed not."

"I could have some brought here. And also the Rubenhart wines. Even I have to admit they are the best. He can put any price over them; nobody would care."

Louise let her eyes drift toward the crowded ballroom.

"In front of all these people?" She laughed lightly. "Every noblewoman in the room would decide I had asked Your Majesty for private wine."

Antonias looked pleased by the idea rather than offended.

"They would be jealous."

"They would be cruel," Louise corrected gently. "And I would rather not become tomorrow’s favorite rumor."

Antonias stared at her.

"You are asking me to protect your reputation?"

"I would never be so presumptuous." Louise lowered her gaze. "I merely thought that, if Your Majesty truly wished to show me the wine, we could ask a servant to bring a bottle to the small receiving room beside the west gallery. There would be no audience and no unnecessary gossip."

Kaliantha’s gaze was now fully on her.

Louise felt it.

For a brief moment, guilt twisted in her stomach.

This was wrong. She respected Kaliantha. She had no desire to humiliate the Queen or make her think Louise had come to steal the attention of her husband. Antonias was the one behaving disgracefully, as he always did, but it would be Louise who appeared to invite him away.

Still, Ulrich had asked.

No, that was not enough.

Ulrich needed Kaliantha alive.

Louise did not know that. She could not know it. Yet the urgency in his voice had carried more weight than his foolish explanation about admiration. He wanted the King gone for a reason, and he had trusted Louise with the task.

She would not fail.

Antonias looked toward the west gallery.

"The receiving room," he repeated.

"It is close enough that Your Majesty would not miss anything important," Louise said. "And I would finally learn whether the Valeronne vintage deserves its reputation."

The King smiled.

"You have excellent taste."

"So I have been told."

He finished the wine in his hand.

Louise kept her expression bright as he set the empty glass on a servant’s tray and rose from his throne.

Kaliantha looked at him.

"Antonias."

The King turned toward her.

"My Queen?"

"I thought you intended to remain for the speeches."

"I will." Antonias waved a careless hand. "Lady Louise has heard of the Valeronne wine. I thought I would let her judge it herself."

Kaliantha’s eyes shifted to Louise.

The Queen’s face remained calm, but Louise felt the chill beneath it.

"Of course," Kaliantha said. "Do not spend too much time, however."

Louise lowered into another curtsey.

"Your Majesty."

Antonias offered Louise his arm.

She placed her fingers lightly upon it.

The King led her down from the dais, already speaking about the southern vineyards and the ambassador who had sent the gift. Louise answered at the right moments, guiding him toward the west gallery while keeping her smile there.

Behind her, Kaliantha remained seated upon the throne.

And across the ballroom, Ulrich watched them leave.