A Villainess pulled out the Sword instead of the Hero.

 

Before she knew it, the succession ceremony was upon them.

 

In the meantime, Morgana had learned to dance and memorized manners that made her skin crawl.

 

‘I’ll use them later in Britain. Fine!’

 

After all, if I was going to be the heroine’s maid, I needed to know how to do these things.

 

And it wasn’t that hard to do.

 

I had a carriage hired, and I had a recommendation for the area where I would live in Britain.

 

And I thought,

‘I’m going to do something that I’ve never done in my life, buy my own house.’

 

My heart was pounding in my chest.

 

Morgana also packed quite a few tea leaves and herbs, just in case.

 

If necessary, she could sell them for money. 

 

Duke Fay had been restless since the morning.

 “Morgana. Do you have the tea leaves for the succession ceremony ready?” “Of course, father.” 

Unlike before, Morgana smiled with skillful politeness and pulled a fine bottle from the tea cabinet.

Inside was a tiny leaf.

 “This, this is what you were talking about…” “That’s right, I barely managed to grow one.” 

It’s a lie. I’d just plucked a bunch of ordinary grasses from the backyard.

 

Not wanting to be found out too soon, she’s also laced it generously with her own healing powers. Enough to last until the banquet, but not so much that it would lose its potency.

 

This made it look pretty good on the outside. After all, if the packaging looks good, the contents deserve to be forgiven.

 

Morgana continued nonchalantly as she watched the Duke of Fay’s excitement over the false advertising and fraudulent abandonment.

 “You shouldn’t open it, or the fragrance will leak out, and it won’t be as effective later.” “Right, sure. You’ve been working hard, you must do well at the succession ceremony today.” “Of course, for my father’s sake.” 

This morning she was very generous.

 

It was probably good because I was thinking about leaving soon. But it wasn’t without its regrets.

 “Miss. Is everything okay?” “Yes. Thanks to Olivia.” 

Morgana smiled faintly at her reflection in the mirror.

 

There were many things that frustrated her in the Duchy of Fay, but this was the only one. If there was one good thing, it was the servants.

 

Mister Rubin, who tended the garden, always brought fresh, beautiful flowers to the vase in Morgana’s room in the morning.

 

Sometimes he would cut himself on the leaves while handling the flowers, and Morgana would happily serve him herbs.

 

There were other unfortunate connections, such as the chef.

 

‘But it’s just the Duke of Fay…’

 

She couldn’t stay for this reason alone. Yet she knew she was quite foolish.

 

So she had to be even more determined.

 

Olivia tilted her head, sensing Morgana’s awkwardness at the greeting.

 “You must be nervous. I mean, this is the succession ceremony you’ve been dying to go to, isn’t it?” “Yeah, a lot.” 

The thought of fleeing sent a chill down my spine. I’ve heard of people running away from weddings holding another man’s hand, and I’ve seen enough stories of people leaving their glass slippers behind while dancing with the prince.

 

She’d be the only one to defect to an enemy country for a succession ceremony.

 

‘That’s immigration…’

 

Technically, it wasn’t illegal. Morgana’s mother was from Britain, and she had lived there before coming to Avalon.

 

‘It’s kind of like going back home, if I may say so?’ 

 

Fortunately or not, Britain was a stronghold. It may have been a protagonist-buffed kingdom, but it welcomed foreigners with open arms and didn’t find it strange to see so many cultures mixing.

 

In fact, Britain was arguably the ideal country.

 

At least, if given the choice between Avalon and Britain, many would choose the latter.

 

Avalon, on the other hand, suited the villainous role.

 

‘I’m curious about the dark villain, but…’

 

Nothing good ever comes of showing up at the palace.

 

Before Morgana left for the succession ceremony, she distributed her remaining tea leaves to the servants.

 

When there was still enough, she turned to Olivia and asked.

 “The leaves in the third cupboard are for fatigue, the next one is for burns, and the next one is for wounds. Don’t get confused, use them when you need them.” 

Olivia’s eyes widened with doubt at Morgana’s detailed instructions.

 “You’re not sick, are you?” “Aye, how can someone with powers be sick?” “Right, but why do I feel all weird?” 

Olivia smiled vaguely, brushing the nape of her neck once.

 

Morgana grabbed the hem of her blue dress and went down to the carriage.

 

Goodbye to this mansion for real!

 

Morgana took a quick look around at the place she’d spent so much time in, and so little time out, and then climbed into the Duke of Fay’s carriage without hesitation.

 

He could feel Morgause’s watchful eyes on the carriage through the window, but Morgana raised her hand in greeting.

 

She would not be joining them until after the ceremony, at the banquet, when the medicine would be taken.

 

Sure enough, Morgause yanked the curtains open with a rough tug.

 

Olivia waved at her after they exited, oblivious, “

Goodbye, young lady!” “Yep. Goodbye, Olivia.” 

With that, the carriage moved away, and the sight of Dukedom grew smaller as Morgana watched.

 

Looking at the place that she would never see again, Morgana said to herself.

 

‘I’m off to find happiness. May you all be happy!’

  

The royal palaces of Avalon were renowned for their military prowess, boasting high castles and imposing walls.

 

They were more robust than ever, for they never knew when a man with a drawn sword would strike.

But it was never crude.

 

High, arched windows let in light from inside the palace.

 

Even to Morgana’s eyes, as she rode in the carriage in the distance, it was gorgeous.

 “Here we are.” 

Duke Fay muttered as he peered out the carriage window.

 

Morgana would be riding with the Duke of Fay, but Morgause and Elaine would be partnered with another young lords from Avalon.

 

If someone other than Morgana had the power, one of the sisters would be sitting here right now.

 

Morgana’s eyes searched for the carriage she had purchased.

 

As promised, a large carriage was waiting near the front gate.

 

The carriage pulled up to the gardens and the main palace of Avalon, where this succession ceremony would take place.

 

Morgana’s jaw dropped open.

 

‘Wow, it’s bigger than I remember from the novel!’

 

Given that the novel was set in Britain, the descriptions of Avalon were very brief.

 

The statue of the dragon, which was huge and imposing, and supported by thick pillars, stood out.

 

The Duke of Fay checked himself as he picked up the huge cushioned tea bag again.

 

The teabag was barely the size of Morgana’s palm, and the overstatement was enough to get him a consumer complaint.

 

A servant from the palace approached to escort them out of the carriage.

 “Let me show you to the Great Hall.” 

With a stiff bow, they followed the servant into the hall.

 

The bright light from the outside seemed twice as bright inside. So did her blue dress.

 

‘Wow, it’s dazzling. It makes my eyes dizzy.’

 

Paintings of legends about the oracle filled the walls, and a sculpture of a beautiful woman who appeared to be a lake fairy.

 

On the ceiling, barely visible if you craned your neck, was a representation of the sky with a painting of an angel.

 

Each of the arched, recessed columns was adorned with colorful bands of red curtains.

 

Beyond the hallway, minuets could be heard faintly echoing off the walls in the distance.

 

At the entrance to the Great Hall, a servant was checking the list. Simultaneously, they were entrusting the items they had brought with them.

 

An innocent-looking aide stood beside him, opening and inspecting each offering, just in case.

 

In a place where everyone was dressed up, the aide was a bit overly neat. His eyes were so clear and crystal clear that if you touched them, they would burst into tears.

 

This was especially true of his pearly white skin, round eyes, and long eyelashes that fluttered and quivered.

 

He was pretty, but more like gentle. But despite the appearance, his examination was meticulous and stern.

 “No.” 

Eyes narrowed, a non-threatening but firm refusal.

 

At this, one of the nobles who had brought the gifts grunted.

 “Raves, cut me some slack, this doesn’t barely qualify as a scratch!” “It shouldn’t. Small things come back to haunt you, Baron.” 

Raves shook his head neatly and crossed out the list with a fountain pen.

 

Morgana swallowed hard as she watched the Baron enter the hall empty-handed.

 

‘It’s probably safe to sneak out.’