My Step-Daughters Are The Villainesses

Lunch began beneath an unusual tension.

The food was excellent.

Every dish laid across the long table had been prepared with the refinement expected of the royal castle: tender roasted meat with fragrant herbs, glazed root vegetables, warm bread with a crisp crust, delicate soups, fruit preserved in honey, and several small dishes whose scents mingled warmly in the air.

Yet no one spoke at first.

Kaliantha sat at the head of the table, her eyes moving quietly from one person to another. She did not stare openly.

Her attention was enough.

Esther sat nearest to her, trying very hard to look calm.

She held her spoon carefully and ate only in small bites, as if a single wrong movement might ruin the entire meal. Her shoulders were tense. Every time a servant approached to refill a glass or offer another dish, she seemed uncertain where to look.

Hermione was better at concealing it.

She maintained an upright posture and thanked the servants properly, but Ulrich could see the subtle stiffness in her fingers whenever she reached for a glass. The presence of a Queen at the table made even Hermione cautious.

Airam, on the other hand, appeared entirely unaffected.

She was hungry.

That was all that mattered.

She had already finished most of the soup placed in front of her and had begun selecting food from the dishes spread across the center of the table. A piece of roasted meat. Then vegetables. Then bread. Then something sweet that had been prepared with fruit and cream.

Her plate grew more crowded.

Ulrich watched her reach for another serving spoon.

His eye twitched.

Airam had manners.

Technically.

She held her utensils properly. She did not speak with food in her mouth. She did not lean over the table. But she ate with the single-minded dedication of someone who had decided the royal castle’s kitchen might never again offer such an opportunity.

Kaliantha finally broke the silence.

"Lord Rubenhart."

Ulrich set his spoon down.

"When do you intend to depart?" She asked.

The question carried no visible pressure, but Ulrich understood its meaning.

Kaliantha had been generous. She had provided him with treatment, a protected chamber, physicians, guards, and hospitality for his wards. Leaving too abruptly could be interpreted as distrust. Remaining too long could invite more questions than he wished to answer.

He had planned to leave tomorrow.

But after waking, after speaking with Hendrick, and after considering the demons’ failed plan, Ulrich had reconsidered.

"Tonight," he replied.

Kaliantha’s brows moved slightly.

"Tonight?"

"Yes."

"You have only just recovered."

"I have recovered sufficiently."

Kaliantha held his gaze.

"It is rather soon. If you are concerned for your safety, the castle will remain guarded. You, as well as your wards, will be protected here."

Ulrich inclined his head.

"I am grateful for Your Majesty’s consideration. But I have much work awaiting me at Rubenhart. I have already been absent from my territory longer than intended."

That was true.

He needed to speak to his household staff. He needed to arrange a means of contacting the demons without allowing them to dictate the terms. He needed to examine the situation surrounding the dark-haired man. And he needed to decide what he intended to do about the sisters’ future.

The capital had become too crowded with questions.

Camellia looked toward the sisters.

"That is a shame," she said. "I will miss you three."

Esther’s nervousness faded at once.

Her face brightened.

"I will miss Your Highness too."

Hermione smiled politely.

"As will I, Your Highness. We are grateful for the kindness you have shown us."

Airam nodded with a mouthful of food.

Ulrich turned toward her.

Airam paused.

The piece of roasted meat remained halfway between her teeth and the plate.

For a second, she looked at Ulrich.

Then she swallowed.

Slowly, she took a napkin and dabbed her mouth. After drinking water, she nodded again toward Camellia.

"I will miss you too, Your Highness."

Her tone was devoid of enthusiasm.

Then she reached for another portion of vegetables.

Ulrich watched her in silence.

Kaliantha’s gaze shifted toward him again.

"Lord Rubenhart," she said. "What are your intentions regarding the three sisters?"

Ulrich paused.

For a moment, he wondered whether this was a trap.

The Queen had spent enough time observing them to understand that his relationship with the sisters was not an ordinary one.

Was Kaliantha asking whether he intended to keep them as wards?

Whether he planned to make use of their magic?

Whether he had a political reason for taking three young witches into his household?

But her expression seemed less suspicious than curious.

Ulrich answered honestly.

"In three years, I intend to send Hermione and Airam to the Arcadian Academy."

Camellia’s eyes widened.

"Arcadian Academy?"

"Yes."

A smile began to bloom on her face.

"I will attend Arcadian Academy in three years as well."

Esther’s eyes lit up.

"Really?"

Camellia nodded.

"My mother and tutors have already decided it. I will enter the academy after the appropriate preparations are complete."

Esther looked delighted.

"Then we will be there together."

Ulrich looked toward her.

"Not you."

Esther’s expression fell.

"Eh?"

"You will enter in four years," Ulrich said. "You are still too young. You will remain at Rubenhart Estate until then."

Esther’s shoulders slumped.

"But I want to go with big sister and eldest sister..."

"You will go when you are ready."

Esther looked down at her plate, clearly disappointed.

Camellia leaned toward her slightly.

"Then I will be your senior when you arrive," she said. "I can show you the academy."

Esther raised her head.

"You will?"

"Of course."

The disappointment began to leave her face.

"If Princess Camellia is my senior, then perhaps four years is not so bad," Esther said, giggling.

Camellia smiled.

Kaliantha looked toward Ulrich.

"The Academy of Arcadia has demanding standards," she reminded him. "A noble name alone does not secure admission. Even children from important houses are turned away when they fail the academy’s requirements."

Ulrich nodded.

"I am aware."

"And you believe your wards will meet those standards?" Kaliantha asked, raising a brow.

"There is no doubt."

His answer came without hesitation.

"Airam and Hermione have nothing to envy in the children of noble families," Ulrich continued. "Their abilities already meet, and in some ways exceed, what Arcadian Academy requires. They will have no troubles entering it."

Hermione had been drinking water.

She stopped.

Her eyes widened slightly.

The faint color that had remained in her cheeks deepened into a bright blush. She tried to hide it by lowering her gaze to her cup, but a small smile appeared despite her effort.

Ulrich had said it so simply.

Without praise softened by politeness.

Without making it sound as though he was offering encouragement out of obligation.

He believed it.

Hermione’s fingers tightened around the glass.

It was indirect, but it was the first time he really praised them, and it made her really happy.

Airam did not seem to care, however.

She had finished another serving of vegetables and was now considering the long spoon resting inside a dish of honey-glazed fruit. She reached toward it with a pale hand that had become slightly sticky from the sauce on the meat.

Ulrich’s hand moved first.

He caught her wrist.

Airam looked up at him.

Her expression was calm, though faint annoyance appeared in her eyes.

"What is it?"

Ulrich did not answer immediately.

With his other hand, he took a clean napkin and wiped the sticky stain from her palm and fingers. He did so carefully, removing the sauce before it could smear across the serving spoon or the tablecloth.

"Do not stain yourself," he said.

Airam stared at him.

Ulrich continued wiping her hand.

"And take your time. No one is going to steal your food."

Airam looked toward the dishes.

Then toward Ulrich.

She gave a small nod and pulled her hand back once he had finished.

"I know," she said.

She picked up her napkin properly this time.

Camellia watched the exchange with a soft smile.

Hermione let out a quiet sigh.

"Honestly," she muttered. "Sister, you are eating as though this is your last meal."

Airam looked at her.

"The food is good."

"That is not an excuse."

"It is a very good excuse."

Esther began to laugh.

The sound was small at first, but genuine.

Camellia joined her as well.

Kaliantha glanced at Ulrich.

He did not seem particularly concerned by the exchange around the table.

To him, it was ordinary.

Airam eating far too quickly. Hermione trying to correct her while hiding her own embarrassment. Esther smiling and laughing at both of them. Ulrich intervening only when necessary, not with indulgence exactly, but with a degree of authority none of the three seemed willing to challenge for long.

It was clearly a familiar rhythm.

Kaliantha found herself watching it longer than she intended.

This was a side of Ulrich van Rubenhart few people would ever see.

He held standards for the sisters.

He corrected them.

He expected them to behave properly, study diligently, and carry themselves with greater care than they sometimes wished to. Yet he did not overwhelm them with his expectations. He did not crush Esther’s bright nature, Hermione’s pride, or Airam’s sharp edges.

He guided them.

And beneath all his sternness, Kaliantha could see a softness he made no effort to show.

It was almost invisible.

But it was there.

Kaliantha lifted a small piece of meat with her fork and took a bite.

She chewed slowly, her eyes still resting on Ulrich across the table.

He seemed entirely unaware of her attention.

Or perhaps he was aware and simply chose not to react.

After a moment, Kaliantha set down her knife and fork.

She took her napkin, dabbed lightly at the corner of her lips, and rose from her seat.

The movement immediately quieted the table.

"If you plan to leave tonight," she said to Ulrich, "then I believe we should have our discussion now."

Ulrich looked toward her.

He nodded once.

"As Your Majesty wishes."

He wiped his mouth with his own napkin, took a final sip of water, and rose from his chair.

"You may continue your meal," Kaliantha told Camellia and the sisters.

The words were gentle enough.

But everyone at the table understood that the Queen intended privacy.

There was no need for them to end their lunch immediately.

Ulrich nodded toward the sisters, preparing to follow Kaliantha from the dining hall.

Then he stopped.

His eyes moved to Hermione’s plate.

A small pile of fresh broccoli had been pushed to one side with clear purpose. The rest of her meal had been eaten properly, but the vegetables remained untouched, abandoned beneath the edge of her fork as though Hermione believed no one would notice.

Ulrich noticed.

"Eat the vegetables," he said.

Then he turned on his heel.

"Y-Yesh!"

The reply escaped Hermione’s lips before she could stop it.

It came far too quickly.

Far too obediently.

Ulrich and Kaliantha had already begun walking away when Hermione realized what she had said.

She froze.

Her face turned scarlet.

’Do not treat me like a child!’

She wanted to shout.

But the words remained trapped behind her quivering lips.

Camellia covered her mouth as she laughed.

Esther giggled openly, her earlier tension gone completely.

Airam shook her head with a long-suffering expression, as though Hermione had personally disappointed her.

Visit and read more novel to help us update chapter quickly. Thank you so much!