It was just fate.
No—worse. A coincidence so perfectly placed that it made me want to laugh and scream at the same time.
Normally, no one like him would ever be accommodated by me. If I weren't here, the vassals, or one of Tezca's many sub-families, would've handled it. They would've bowed, smiled, flattered, and quietly set him up to die somewhere inconvenient.
But apparently—apparently—it just so happened that I was in the south.
What bullshit.
These bastards were already in cahoots with the Solidaria princes. I could feel it in my bones. This wasn't an accident. This was planned. From the very beginning.
And congratulations to me—I was the scapegoat.
Even worse, Julius Ainsworth didn't appear in the novel. At all.
Which meant two things. Either he was a very minor character… or he was so insignificant that the story never bothered to acknowledge his existence.
'I just want to live in peace, damn it,' I cursed inwardly. 'I came here for a vacation.'
'Ting!'
That was the third arrow.
It shattered harmlessly against the barrier surrounding us, sparks of mana dispersing like dust.
Not counting the second dagger.
The barrier I had deployed covered ten meters in a full 360-degree radius. Normally, I would've kept it subtle, but I'd already tested the boundary earlier. At this point, hiding it was pointless.
Julius wasn't stupid. He knew something was wrong.
And the assassins weren't stupid either. They weren't initiating direct contact—not while I was this close. They were probing. Testing. Waiting.
'Ting!'
Fourth projectile.
That should've sent the message.
"Miss Josephine," Julius said cautiously, lowering his voice, "if I may be rude—"
"Yes, you are," I replied flatly. "[Silence]."
The world around us dimmed as I wrapped the barrier with sound-isolating magic. Everything outside became mute. Wind, insects, distant footsteps—gone.
He stiffened. "You… what did you do?"
"Me?" I shrugged. "Just a little magic trick. More importantly, shouldn't you be worried?"
There was no way in hell he hadn't heard of Josephine von Konrow.
If rumors alone weren't enough, then there was Liquid Fire—a flame that never extinguished no matter how much water or ice you dumped on it. Magic only made it worse. It burned until sprayed with a very specific solution.
The Great Fire of Tablea was still burning to this day.
Thanks to "Her".
The Josephine in my head stuck her tongue out and bonked her own forehead like an idiot.
…Sometimes I forgot that I was a villainess.
An actual one.
His expression turned serious.
"I am Josephine von Konrow," I said coldly. "Member of the Konrow Duchy. You do understand the situation you're in, right?"
I crossed my arms, snapped my fan open, and gave him my best villainess stare. The kind that said I could erase you and sleep soundly after.
For a moment, we stood there. Serious. Silent.
Then—
He looked down.
And laughed.
"Pfft… hahaha—!" He covered his mouth, shoulders shaking. "I'm sorry, my lady. I don't mean to be rude, but… lately, I've developed a habit of knowing whether people are good or not just by looking at them."
He scratched the back of his neck, cheeks faintly red, eyes turned away.
"And I can definitely tell—you're not a bad person at all."
My eyes dilated.
My brain short-circuited.
Why was this clout-chasing otome target spouting flag-raising dialogue like this?!
"Hah?!"
No. No. No. Absolutely not.
Why was a flag being raised here?! I already had too many of those to deal with, all of them equally irritating, and now this guy—who didn't even exist in the novel—was dropping lines like this?!
What the hell was so special about him that even Eros was eyeing him?!
[Appraisal].
…Hero?
'H-h-hero?!'
Then it clicked.
The system had designated a Hero before—but that was because I had accumulated all three traits.
[Note: Your [Hero] is a pseudo-trait rather than a designated one.]
I glanced at Julius again.
Yeah… I could see it.
Sincere. Earnest. Earnest to the point of stupidity.
Like a golden retriever.
"Tch."
I snapped my fan shut and masked my expression with practiced indifference.
"Currently, it is my duty to accommodate Your Highness."
And then—
I reached out.
Thirteen shadows surrounded us.
Every direction. Every angle.
A neat instant-kill technique taught to me by Hecatia herself.
[Hecatia smirks proudly.]
I grabbed the shadows and made a cutting motion with my fan.
In an instant, the shadows vanished.
Along with their owners.
As if they had never existed.
Julius froze. His face drained of color. Cold sweat slid down his neck.
"You—why?" he demanded. "You'll get caught up in this."
I looked away.
"My goal has changed," I said calmly.
"Don't get the wrong idea. I'm merely doing this out of responsibility. Do not lump me in with those political insects."
I tightened my grip on the fan.
'I will destroy every event that would solidify you as a target.'
No matter what happens.
---
After that, he didn't really try to say anything.
Which was good. Very good.
I continued explaining things about the Tezca Duchy as if nothing had happened—land usage, crop rotations, why the orchards were placed where they were, how the irrigation worked. I spoke like a tour guide who had memorized a pamphlet five minutes before the tour.
Polite. Courteous. Professional.
I made it very clear through my actions alone that I was neither his enemy nor his ally.
Just a representative.
And judging by the way he listened—really listened—I think he understood that by the time dusk settled in.
By then, we were already back at the guest mansion, just as planned. The sky had turned orange and violet, the air warm but no longer suffocating. The guards and other envoys had long since settled in. Their formation outside was clean, disciplined. Too disciplined.
They were waiting for him.
"Your Highness," I said, stopping at the entrance, "it seems this will be the end of our tour today."
I bowed, then bent one knee.
"I will return shortly for dinner this evening. Until then, this time is yours."
I straightened and produced a necklace from subspace magic.
Bone-white. Slightly curved. Polished, but not decorative.
"This necklace is crafted from special materials found here in the Tezca." I said evenly, "The teeths are from a legendary monster slain here in the Tezca Duchy, Leviathan."
His eyes widened, just a fraction.
"I hope you will accept it as a token of our appreciation."
He nodded, almost reluctantly.
I stepped closer and fastened it around his neck myself. As I leaned in, close enough that only he could hear me, I spoke quietly.
"I strongly advise you not to remove it. At any time."
He stiffened and glanced at me, confused—but didn't question it.
"Thank you for your kind hospitality, my lady," he said after a moment.
I smiled. Proper. Neutral.
"No matter, Your Highness. Once again—welcome to the Tezca Duchy."
I bowed deeply.
Then turned and left.
---
The moment I returned to my assigned residence, I collapsed into a chair in the living room.
"Phew."
That necklace wasn't symbolic.
It was handcrafted by Nephi (me).
Real Leviathan teeth. Ridiculously expensive, for the record—but to me, they were pocket change. What mattered was their mana conductivity. Without that, the magic circles wouldn't hold.
Layer upon layer of defensive spells. Anti-poisoning. Anti-curse. Anti-scrying. Emergency displacement. Structural reinforcement.
I couldn't make it more intricate. I only had an hour yesterday after doing my homework.
I stared at my hand, still connected to my laboratory via subspace magic. The room there looked southern on the surface—but beneath it was a nightmare of magic circles and materials.
"This escort mission is more troublesome than I thought," I muttered.
I had braced myself for danger.
But the real problem wasn't the assassins.
It was the flag.
At this rate, he would inevitably get entangled with me. And I did not need another variable.
"My Lady," a voice said beside me, "would you like to prepare for dinner?"
"Ugh. Do I have to—"
"My Lady."
I flinched.
"I get it! I get it!"
I stood immediately, meeting Jane's eerily calm gaze. She looked composed. Too composed. Which meant she and Anna had done everything I told them to do—and more.
"By the way," she added casually, "a letter arrived at the Konrow villa. From Marquis Jhake."
I grabbed it, skimmed it in seconds, and tossed it into the fireplace.
The paper didn't even finish burning before I sighed.
"Ahhh…!!!! DAMN IT ALL!!!"
Why was it always like this?
I just wanted a vacation.