The door creaked open behind them.
A tall figure stepped into view, dark blue hair slicked loosely to the side, golden eyes gleaming beneath the low light, and that familiar appearance that only royalty could afford.
Daimon.
"Agrona," he began, his voice low, strained and almost remorseful. "You have to understand, I—"
But the scene that greeted him stopped the words dead in his throat.
Cressida sat on the floor, her fingers curved around Agrona's throat, their faces a breath apart, lips hovering dangerously close. In another heartbeat, in another angle, it could have been a kiss.
Daimon froze. "W–What is this…?" Disbelief dripped from every syllable. "I didn't know—"
Oh, the audacity of him to sound heartbroken, betrayed, after what he'd done earlier.
"D–Daimon?" Agrona managed, her composure fracturing as she instinctively turned toward him, only for Cressida to yank her closer again, fingers tightening slightly.
"Ah, Your Highness," Cressida said smoothly, an almost sweet tone coating her words. "I apologize for… this misunderstanding." She smiled, the kind of smile that dared him to question her.
"Would you mind," she added, eyes glinting, "closing the door?"
║[SYSTEM] +15 Positive EXP — Strategic Improvisation and Psychological Dominance.║
'Who would've thought alcohol could turn into liquid courage?'
Cressida reached out and cupped Agrona's face, gently tilting her chin so that their lips hovered dangerously close.
The sight of his elegant, ever-loyal wife seemingly entangled with another woman was enough to drain the color from his face.
Of course, the two never actually kissed. It only looked like they did, a perfect illusion crafted in the heat of moment.
Agrona's fingers twitched, caught between fury and amusement.
She could have easily pushed the girl away… yet she didn't. The audacity of this drunk little mouse was infuriating and strangely refreshing.
Perhaps this little mouse could serve another purpose after all.
....
....
***
....
....
And that takes us to the present.
I never wanted it to turn out this way… but gods, I hate how weak I am and the stupid things I do when I'm drunk.
"Good morning, little mouse."
There was no mistaking that voice, which was velvet, low, and dangerously calm.
She turned her head slowly, only to be met with the sight of Agrona lying beside her, silver hair spilling over the pillows, their faces far too close for comfort.
She didn't remember much from last night, just a blur of words, wine, and something about "duty" and "chains." Now, the world was spinning, her head pounding like a funeral drum.
"Oh, no…" she whispered, realizing exactly where she was. "Oh no."
Agrona, however, seemed far too composed for someone sharing a bed with her alleged blood slave. A faint smirk ghosted her lips as she propped her head on one hand. "You were rather talkative last night. Should I assume all those proposals were part of your plan?"
Cressida covered her face with both hands. "Please tell me I didn't—"
"—confess your undying loyalty, try to marry me, and mess with Daimon?"
║[SYSTEM] NOTICE — Narrative Shift Detected.║
║The novel's trajectory has drastically altered. Future events are now unpredictable.║
║+25 Positive EXP — Successful Disruption of Original Plotline.║
║+30 Negative EXP — Reckless Drunken Diplomacy and Emotional Damage to Key Characters.║
...
║[SYSTEM UPDATE] — Level Advancement Detected.║
║Congratulations! Cressida Blackthorne has leveled up.║
╔════════════════════════════════════╗
║ USER PROFILE UPDATE — STATUS REPORT ║
╠════════════════════════════════════╣
║ User: Cressida Blackthorne ║║ Background: Former businesswoman, ║
║ Reborn into a minor villainess body. ║
╠════════════════════════════════════╣
║ Level / Rank: 2 – Cunning Negotiator ║
║ Capital (Points): 14 Positive / 11 Negative ║
║ Moral Ledger: Unstable Neutral (+↔–) ║
╚════════════════════════════════════╝
║[SYSTEM STORE UPDATE] — New Items Unlocked!║
...
Oh god. It really happened.
Cressida sat up in panic, hair tousled, head pounding from the hangover. She tried to slide off the bed as quietly as possible, only for a firm hand to seize a handful of her long hair.
"Oh no, no, little mouse," Agrona purred dangerously close to her ear. "You're not going anywhere. I have many questions for you."
"Haha! Questions like what?" Cressida laughed nervously, refusing to look back. If she didn't make eye contact, maybe it wouldn't be real.
"First of all," Agrona's tone sharpened, "what do you know? You kept babbling about the 'villainess' and other nonsense last night." She paused, then reached for a small parchment on the bedside table. "Second-" she unfurled the paper and placed it before her, elegant script with a binding seal. "Sign this."
Cressida blinked. "...What is that?"
"A marriage contract," Agrona replied smoothly, the faintest smirk curving her lips. "If you're going to propose to the Empress, little mouse, you'd best be ready to commit."
"You're just using me, aren't you?"
"I am."
"Do I have a choice?"
"No."
"....Ah."
She took Cressida's hand, pressing a pen firmly between her fingers. Her touch was deceptively gentle, but her grip left no room for refusal. "Now, sign."