I Am The Game's Villain

”Aah!” She yelped softly, pulling her hand back and looked at me with indignation.

I chuckled under my breath. ”Alright, alright. I’ll stop.”

I loosened my hold, allowing her to sit up properly. Still, I didn’t let her go completely. She ended up sitting sideways on my lap, her legs stretched out across the bench as the umbrella above us shielded us from the gazes.

”Don’t worry,” I said with a faint smile, glancing around. ”Nobody can see us like this anyway.”

That was half a lie—there might’ve been a few wandering eyes—but at least the umbrella gave us some privacy.

Alvara stayed silent, her gaze distant. The anger hadn’t faded yet.

”I told you I’m sorry,” I said again, my voice quieter this time.

”Where did you go?” She asked after a pause, her tone calm and restrained, but the emotion beneath it was clear.

”Somewhere far,” I said simply.

Her fingers curled slightly into fists at that. ”You didn’t go to Utopia. You left somewhere else... with her.”

I blinked, a little surprised at how sharp her words were. ”Wait—are you upset because I was with Alicia all this time?”

Her golden eyes narrowed.

Then she sneered.

I couldn’t help but smile. ”You’re even cuter when you sulk, you know that?”

Before she could react, I slid my arm around her waist, pulling her gently against my side.

She stiffened, her breath catching, but she didn’t push me away.

”It’s complicated,” I said, resting my head lightly against hers. ”But I didn’t disappear to go on some honeymoon, if that’s what you’re thinking. We got dragged into something big. Dangerous. And... it took longer than expected to get out.”

”A lot longer.”

”I know.” I smiled faintly. ”But I’m guessing you found a way to vent that anger—probably by bullying every non-Elf race at the academy, right?”

”...”

”As expected of my favorite racist Princess,” I couldn’t help but laugh.

I knew her too much.

Alvara only shrugged, as if I’d just complimented her. Then her eyes stared at me in surprise. ”You... rose an Ascension, didn’t you?”

”Yeah,” I nodded. ”Not long ago.”

”Ninth Ascension,” she mumbled, almost to herself. ”And you’re only eighteen...”

I gave a modest shrug. ”You’ll catch up soon. You have divine genes, after all. Godhood practically runs in your veins.”

For a moment, she just looked at me in silence. Then, slowly, she lifted her hand, her fingers brushing along the side of my face. The touch was featherlight as her fingertip traced the faint scar running down my jaw.

”What happened?” She asked.

I met her gaze—those bright golden eyes shimmering with something between concern and pride—and smiled faintly. I took her hand in mine, gently closing her fingers around my palm.

”Want to walk with me?” I asked.

I didn’t wait for her reply. I shifted her off my lap, letting her feet touch the ground, and picked up the umbrella.

”Come on, Princess,” I said, tilting the umbrella to cover her as well. ”Otherwise the lower races might catch a glimpse of you. You wouldn’t want their filthy gazes on you, right?”

”Hmph,” she scoffed, but stepped close enough that our shoulders brushed under the umbrella’s cover.

And despite her prideful huff, I could tell—she wasn’t angry anymore. At least not as much as before.

”How’s Bryelle doing?” I asked after a moment of silence.

”She’s fine,” Alvara replied.

”Hm.” I nodded. ”If you meet the Saintess later, tell her you’re coming on my behalf—to heal Bryelle’s legs. She should be able to do it.”

The Saintess’s healing powers weren’t something people could just request at will. Even within the Holy Church, her miracles were tightly controlled, reserved for those the clergy deemed worthy. But Maria... Maria owed me a favor or two. If Alvara mentioned my name, I was confident she’d help. Maria or Seraphina actually depending which one becomes the Saintess.

Alvara gave me a sidelong look, her golden eyes narrowing slightly. ”Why don’t you ask her yourself?”

”Well...”

I didn’t say it aloud, but the truth was that I wasn’t sure I’d even be around by the time that chance came.

A faint smirk tugged at my lips as I forced a bit of levity into my voice. ”Honestly? I just wanted to see you ask someone for a favor. That’s something that happens once every few decades.”

Alvara arched an eyebrow, unimpressed. ”That was a poor attempt at deflection, my Love—and an even poorer joke.”

”Sorry,” I chuckled weakly. ”I’ve never been good at humor.”