My Step-Daughters Are The Villainesses

After Kaliantha insisted that their discussion take place at once, Ulrich followed her from the dining hall.

As expected, he could not leave Skargardia’s capital without speaking to her properly.

But he doubted the conversation was only about what had happened the previous night.

For a long time, Ulrich’s relationship with Kaliantha had been neither warm nor hostile. They had existed within the same court, acknowledged one another when required, and maintained the careful distance expected between a powerful Count and the Queen of Skargardia.

Then Ulrich had recovered his memories.

His past life as Silas.

The future he had once read about.

The knowledge that adopting the three sisters, the very girls connected to his eventual death, would not be enough to change his fate.

He needed allies.

Real ones.

People whose influence could protect Rubenhart, the sisters, and his future from forces he could not fight alone. And at the top of that list stood Kaliantha van Skargardia.

Earning her trust mattered.

That was why Ulrich had involved himself more in the demons’ affairs. Why he had played his role carefully, giving them enough reason to see him as useful while also placing himself where he could redirect the danger when it mattered.

He had been deceiving the demons.

But, in some ways, he had deceived Kaliantha as well.

"You seem eager to leave, Lord Rubenhart," Kaliantha said.

They walked through the castle corridors side by side, though Ulrich kept half a step behind her out of respect. The guards and servants they passed lowered their eyes and moved aside, leaving a clear path for the Queen.

"I have remained asleep for too long," Ulrich replied.

"Only a day," Kaliantha said. "You should rest longer after the injuries you sustained."

"I have recovered sufficiently, Your Majesty. Remaining here any longer would only inconvenience us both."

Kaliantha glanced toward him.

"Are you worried about Antonias?"

Ulrich looked at her.

It would have been a lie to deny it.

Antonias already disliked him before the ceremony. After Ulrich had driven his face into the wall hard enough to break his nose, then arranged for his public humiliation in the ballroom, the King’s hatred must have grown beyond restraint.

And afterward, Kaliantha had taken Ulrich’s side.

Then Ulrich had danced with her.

Not merely a polite dance, either. The entire court had watched them take the center of the ballroom. They had watched Kaliantha and Ulrich move together while Antonias was absent, drunk, disgraced, and unable to take his rightful place beside the Queen.

The humiliation must have been unbearable.

Ulrich had no wish to imagine what Antonias intended to do when he regained sufficient control over himself.

His lack of answer was answer enough.

Kaliantha turned her attention forward again.

"I will ensure that no consequences follow you," she said. "You saved my life. At the very least, I owe you protection from my husband’s anger."

"I am grateful, Your Majesty."

Kaliantha gave a faint nod.

"Strangely enough, you have become far more willing to build connections than you were years ago, Count Rubenhart."

Ulrich said nothing.

"Who would have expected you to adopt three witches?" Kaliantha continued. "Or to approach me with offers of assistance. Or to place yourself in danger to protect me. You antagonized the King, fought demons inside a sealed barrier, and afterward presented my daughter with a precious gift crafted specifically for her safety."

Ulrich winced slightly at the final point.

As expected, Kaliantha had not liked Camellia’s pendant, perhaps.

The Queen’s voice had remained calm.

Perhaps too calm.

"I believed Eurich would have had greater influence over you," Kaliantha said.

"My father had his own principles," Ulrich replied. "They worked for him. But if one wishes to progress, there are moments when one must bend one’s principles and ideals."

Kaliantha glanced at him.

"That is a fair answer," she said. "And one I respect."

Her voice softened by the slightest degree.

"You have helped me greatly over the past two years."

She did not elaborate.

She did not need to.

Ulrich had quietly redirected several matters in ways that benefited the Queen: information passed through the right channels, nobles discouraged from making certain alliances, small incidents resolved before they could become court scandals. He had never stood before her and claimed credit for any of it.

Yet Kaliantha had noticed.

They reached a private chamber near the royal family’s wing.

Two guards stood beside the doors, but Kaliantha dismissed them with a gesture before entering. Ulrich followed her inside.

The room was warm and elegantly restrained. A fire burned behind an iron screen. Tall windows overlooked an inner garden, where the afternoon light had begun to turn gold. Two dark green couches faced one another across a low table set with a tea service.

Kaliantha crossed the room and sat on one of the couches.

Then she looked toward the guards.

"Leave us."

The guards bowed and withdrew.

The door shut.

They were alone.

"Take a seat," Kaliantha said.

Ulrich moved to the opposite couch and sat down.

For a few seconds, neither spoke.

Kaliantha rested one hand against the arm of the couch, her heterochromatic eyes fixed on Ulrich.

Ulrich just waited until she spoke.

"Over the past two years, Count Rubenhart, you have aided the Crown greatly," she said. "Mainly through your web of information. Because of the intelligence you provided, we intercepted several ships carrying demons concealed among ordinary passengers and cargo. We removed many of them before their filth could further stain my kingdom."

Ulrich looked at her without answering immediately.

A web of information.

The description was more generous than the truth.

He did not possess some vast network of spies scattered across the continent. He had no hidden order of informants sending him sealed reports, nor agents embedded in every noble household and harbor.

His source was much simpler.

And much more dangerous.

He was allied with the demons.

At least, that was what they believed.

Over the past two years, Ulrich had allowed demons to move through Rubenhart territory in controlled, limited ways. It was not something he could prevent outright, not without raising suspicion and inviting the attention of the very people whose plans he needed to understand.

In return, they treated him as useful.

They let fragments of information pass through his hands. Names. Routes. Ships. Intended movements. The territories where demons had established safe passage, and the noble domains they believed weak enough to exploit.

Ulrich gathered what he could.

Then he filtered it.

He withheld information that might expose his position too early, but passed enough to Kaliantha that she could warn the relevant lords, deploy knights, and intercept demon vessels before they reached their destinations.

On one side, he helped the demons believe their plans were advancing.

On the other, he quietly destroyed those plans.

And they had no idea.

Only Kaliantha knew that the intelligence came from him.

When Ulrich had first brought her his ’intels’, he had demanded one condition: his involvement was never to be revealed. No knight, noble, commander, or member of the royal family was to know that Count Rubenhart had been the source.

The court believed the Queen’s own agents had uncovered the information.

That was precisely what Ulrich needed.

If the demons realized he had been feeding Kaliantha their routes, he would lose his access to them.

And he would gain far more enemies than he could presently afford.

"I did only my duty, Your Majesty," Ulrich replied.

Kaliantha watched him.

"You did well," she said. "You went beyond your duty. Many lives were saved through your private efforts."

Ulrich remained silent.

Praise made him uncomfortable.

More than praise, he disliked the implication that he deserved gratitude. He had not acted for the Crown alone. He had acted because the demons were part of the future he needed to stop. Because every ship he allowed through unchecked brought that future closer.

Kaliantha leaned back slightly.

"A curious change in your methods, however."

Ulrich’s gaze stayed on her.

"One might have expected you to devote such effort to hunting witches rather than demons," she said. "Yet circumstances change, do they not?"

The question was not careless.

Before Ulrich recovered Silas’s memories, he had participated in witch hunts. He had followed the laws of Skargardia. He had treated witches as a threat to be contained or eliminated, just as his father had taught him.

Then, almost without explanation, he stopped.

He had begun to focus on demons.

And he had taken three young witches into his household.

"Perhaps adopting those three girls changed you," Kaliantha continued. "You appear to have developed genuine concern for them. Perhaps even affection."

Ulrich’s expression did not alter.

"They bear no responsibility for the sins of their kin," he said. "They were born witches. They have committed no crime deserving cruel treatment."

Kaliantha’s eyes stayed on him.

"Bold words, after you participated in destroying their home, Lord Rubenhart."

"Under His Majesty’s orders."

Kaliantha nodded.

"Indeed. Antonias ordered you to accompany my son during his first campaign."

A faint breath left her.

It sounded almost weary.

"I never approved it. There were more pressing concerns than hunting peaceful witches in an isolated village. A Coven involved in dangerous practices would have been another matter. But those villagers had caused no trouble for the Crown."

Her expression grew colder.

"Antonias had other ambitions for Albert."

Kaliantha had never been entirely sympathetic toward witches. She understood the danger that unchecked magic could pose. She had no tolerance for covens using blood rites, curses, or human lives in the pursuit of power.

But she was not someone who demanded death merely because a person had been born different.

She had heard rumors of witch villages before.

She had ignored them when they remained peaceful.

Antonias had not.

He had wanted Albert’s first campaign to be a spectacle: a lesson in strength, authority, and fear. He had wanted his son to return with the image of a future king who had crushed enemies of the Crown.

The fact that those ’enemies’ had been villagers unable to resist royal soldiers had mattered little to him.

"Witches can be a threat," Ulrich said.

Kaliantha’s eyes narrowed slightly.

"But the danger posed by demons has risen far more in recent years," he continued. "They are preparing something."

"And what is that?" Kaliantha asked.

The resurrection of the Demon God.

He could not say it.

"We need to find out," Ulrich said.

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