The Destiny of the Villainess is Tears

The Ball

The week until the ball was the longest and shortest week of either of my lives. My mind and heart raced so hard I couldn't tell the difference between giddy excitement and looming panic attacks. Anne and Nessa looked...harrowed.

The time does eventually pass, though, and all too soon (it took so long!) I find myself standing in the middle of a ballroom, passing furtive glances back and forth across a sea of faces I neither recognized nor cared to learn. In the game I imagine Ophelia would have been focused on building more connections with these people, maneuvering the social ladders of nobility and flexing her abilities on these low-stake targets.

I, however, have no need for any of that. My eyes aren't on the prince, or the emperor, or worrying about social status. Whether I end up marrying Viktor and lifting him into the ranks of nobility or whether I have to abandon my birthright to spend a life eking out a living with him, I'll be happy so long as he's with me. And I know he feels the same.

And so...I keep looking back and forth, across the sea of strangers, for the one face I know.

...finally, he arrives.

It's unfair to call him breathtaking, because that fails to explain how he looks any different from normal. No, he's much more than that.I recognize his outfit immediately - it's what he wears during the student dance event in the game, near the end of his route. In person it looks much better than his sprite did. His hair is gently curled and put up into a ponytail, and one of the flowers I'd sent him as his 'admirer' is styled prominently in his hair.

I can't find any words to speak, to draw his attention, so it's for the best he spots me on his own.

The crowd parts like he cut his way through a solid mass. His eyes lock onto mine. Every muscle in my body feels locked in place, frozen by that gentle, searching gaze. I find my gaze trailing over the shape of his body as he draws closer, taking in the gentle flow of his long jacket, and the sharp angles of his collar.

I inhale sharply as his eyes meet mine. He gives me the barest hint of a smile.

Even more than in the game, when it was just pixels, or a character in an illustrated image, the sight of him looking at me this way makes me feel weak and fuzzy inside.

In that moment, he stops a mere foot or so from me. I can barely breathe.

After a moment - was it a moment? an instant? an hour? - he bows.

My face flushes and I hastily curtsy in return. I almost trip.

Girl!!

The plan is not to become the injury girl that just faces cataclysm when he's present!

When I glance up, his lips have curved up into the gentle hint of an amused smirk.

The faintest, breathless giggle slips from my lips and I bury my lips into the back of my fingers. He looks so cute!!!

The sound of his gentle, melodic laughter sends a shiver up my spine and I tremble with suppressed glee at the sound.

"You look ravishing this evening, Miss Ophelia."

The moment I hear his voice, my blush flares brighter. His deep, rich tenor, so well-suited for speaking, it makes my knees wobble to listen to it. "Y-your compliment honors me, Doctor."

His head cocks to the side, his smile teasing. "Does it now? Perhaps I will have to find ways to offer you more compliments in the future, then."

Oh boy. I swallow nervously, pressing my palms into the curve of my dress to distract me. The sound of Viktor's chuckle fills the air around me. "If I might be so bold, might I steal you away for a dance?"