Long live the Villainess

Prologue

'Vengeance is said to be better served cold.

I have never in my life taken vengeance.

It was my very first time.

And I have to admit, this saying is true.

Don't you have someone in your life whom you hate so much that if you had the chance to push them off a cliff, you would do it gladly, even if that means falling with that person?

Nothing is as sweet as seeing the face of the person you hate the most turn as pale as snow.

Seeing their eyes turn cold and empty.

Feeling their body turn cold as their blood slowly drains out.

You feel ecstatic as the adrenaline rushes into your veins like a drug.

You will take the very first breath since the injustice that you lived.

But, everything comes with a cost. And vengeance has its particular one. If you cross the line and change the balance of karma, you will have to pay a price three times more than you spent.

It will take various forms, and you will be offered different paths of redemption. Everyone is a unique case.

But I have to warn you, the worst isn't the price, it is the aftermath.

You would have shown the worst part of yourself. Your loved ones will never forget the act that you committed in order to satisfy your thirst.

But the worst is looking at the mirror and seeing that person in yourself and realizing that you became the same.

I do not say that you do not have to take vengeance, but you have to be aware of its cost and if you are willing to pay for it.'

The words of my mother echo in my mind. Like water rushing on a blaze, her voice makes the grip of my hand less firm.

Lying on her knees on the cold white marble, Loreiley senses my trembling hesitation. She strengthens up, her silky dress sliding accordingly to her every moves like the smooth skin of a snake. She opens her red painted lips to whisper her poisonous words.

Even vanquished and with a broken crown resting on her glistening hair full of ashes, she still emits an aura of power and royalty. Loreiley plunges her golden ethereal eyes into mine, her chin lifted and her hands carefully lying on her lap covered with a deep lavender shade, spared from any traces of blood.
Even in the chaos of the flames and the ruins surrounding us, she still remains a Queen.

A title that she took by force by the worst means.

The sound of her voice seems muffled and loses its clarity in the tempest that surrounds us. I waited twenty long years for this moment to happen, but even with my burning rage and blood boiling with anticipation, I cannot focus on her.

Flashes of the events that took place decades ago make my heart bleed. My hate has never been more fiery, but I still have a remnant of hesitation, making my sword lower down.

A fragment of the past? A ghost possessing gold-like hair and fair skin. Or a fragment of my previous self. I still feel an invisible hand putting gently a slight pressure on the tip of my sword.

I shake away the eerie feeling that brushes my neck and apply the sharp side of my blade against the cheek of my sister.

The tip of my blade glides, scratching the delicate skin of her neck.

Her golden iris slightly shakes, but she quickly regains her composure. Her plump lips stretches into a smile drenched with tenderness as she raises her arm to tug a lock of my red hair similar to the sparks flying around us, behind my bleeding ear.

I close my eyes before kicking her and putting my feet on her panting chest, my hand clutches on my sword.

I have to make a choice.

Behind me, the familiar footsteps of my companion echo in the hallway. Soon, it will be to late to act.

I close my eyes and raise my sword.

I am ready.