The Devil Is The Villainess (✔)

Chapter III: Welcome Back

Having harnessed the potent capabilities residing within Medea's borrowed form, Lycoris wielded her powers to traverse the realms, seamlessly transporting herself to the designated destination indicated on the map graciously bestowed upon her by the enigmatic man in the tower. The transition left her standing regally before the imposing façade of the Falaguerra Manor, an estate cloaked in an aura of ancient nobility.

With a soft sly smile gracing her lips, she strolled towards the entrance with an air of careless confidence. The grandeur of the manor seemed to pale in comparison to the intrigue that now pulsed within its hallowed halls, as Lycoris embarked on her clandestine game.

As she breezed through the entrance, the servants, caught in the throes of their daily tasks, were greeted by a disheveled apparition. Medea, or so they believed, presented an unsettling sight – her once-luxurious satin gown now marred with splotches of her own blood, her bare feet marking a stark contrast against the opulent decor.

"Oh, great heavens! What happened to you, my lady?" one of the concerned servants exclaimed, their voices rising in a chorus of panic. The collective gaze of the servants fixated upon her altered appearance, noting the unsettling transformation that extended beyond mere disarray.

Unbeknownst to them, ruby gem eyes now gleamed from Medea's countenance, a striking departure from the familiar hues they had grown accustomed to. The unspoken question lingered in the air – when did Lady Medea possess such mesmerizing eyes? However, the unspoken inquiry remained captive within their minds, stifled by an inexplicable force.

Remaining motionless before the fretting servants, Medea reveled in their obliviousness, an internal smirk betraying her amusement at their ignorance. Composing herself, she adopted an expression of feigned vulnerability, placing both hands delicately over her mouth.

"P-Paired of individuals tried to assassinate me..." she uttered, her voice a delicate tremor of distress, casting a façade of pitiable victimhood. The servants, ensnared by the theatrics unfolding before them, hovered in a state of concerned bewilderment.

Even as she wove her intricate web of deception, Lycoris reminded herself of the necessity of her charade. Every word and every gesture was a calculated step toward unraveling the mysteries that lay shrouded within the labyrinthine depths of Medea's life. It was a dance of shadows and secrets, a delicate balance between truth and falsehood, and Lycoris, the master manipulator, was poised to orchestrate every twist and turn with meticulous precision.

The air crackled with tension as the sound of shattering glass reverberated through the opulent halls of the Falaguerra Manor, a discordant note amidst the tranquil elegance that once reigned supreme. The worried voice that followed echoed with palpable concern, punctuating the silence with an urgency that demanded attention.

Turning her gaze towards the source of the disturbance, Lycoris's crimson eyes alighted upon a figure bathed in the flickering glow of candlelight. Standing before her was a man whose features bore a striking resemblance to Medea – her older brother, Vincentius Falaguerra. In the recesses of her consciousness, memories stirred, unraveling the intricate threads that bound their tumultuous familial history.

"Brother," she murmured, her voice a whisper that hung in the air like an unspoken vow. Vincentius's presence invoked a maelstrom of conflicting emotions within her, a testament to the complexities that defined their relationship.

With a sense of urgency born of genuine concern, he closed the distance between them, his hand reaching out to grasp her shoulder with a fervor borne of fraternal love. "What happened to you?! Why are you... quick, go call a physician!" he implored, his voice tinged with a mixture of panic and desperation.