the Villainess they took for granted

Chapter 31: Chapter 31The First Bad Idea

For several moments after Marian asked for help, neither of them spoke.

Cassian sat on the fallen log.

Marian sat beneath the tree.

The lake stretched quietly between them.

Peaceful.

Annoyingly so.

"Well?"

Marian asked eventually.

Cassian looked heavenward.

As though asking the gods why they hated him.

"I am considering several responses."

"And?"

"Most of them involve me leaving."

Despite everything, Marian smiled.

A small smile.

One that disappeared quickly.

The silence returned.

Then Marian’s gaze drifted toward the path leading back to the hunting lodge.

Empty.

No riders.

No movement.

Nothing.

A strange ache settled in her chest.

"He’s not coming."

The words escaped before she could stop them.

Cassian didn’t ask who.

There was no need.

"No."

The answer came immediately.

Certain.

Marian hated it.

"You sound very sure."

"I know Adrian."

The simple confidence in his voice irritated her for reasons she couldn’t explain.

Or perhaps she could.

Perhaps she simply didn’t want him to be right.

"He knows I wanted to be alone."

Cassian nodded.

"Yes."

Marian blinked.

"...That’s all?"

"What else would there be?"

She stared.

Then looked away.

Because the answer felt wrong.

Terribly wrong.

Even though she knew it wasn’t.

For several moments she remained silent.

Then:

"I hate that answer."

Cassian sighed.

"Most people do."

The infuriating man.

The utterly infuriating man.

Marian glared at the lake.

A leaf floated across the surface.

Completely unconcerned with her suffering.

Lucky leaf.

"You know what the worst part is?"

Cassian immediately looked wary.

A sensible reaction.

"No."

"You do."

"I assure you I don’t."

"You do."

Cassian sighed.

"Tell me anyway."

Marian crossed her arms.

Then uncrossed them.

Then crossed them again.

Because apparently she had inherited all of her emotional stability from a squirrel.

"The worst part is that he’s doing exactly what I asked."

The admission tasted awful.

Cassian remained silent.

Waiting.

Which somehow forced her to continue.

"I said I wanted to be alone."

"Yes."

"And now he’s leaving me alone."

"Yes."

Marian wanted to throw something at him.

Perhaps the lake.

"If you’re trying to be helpful, you’re failing."

"I know."

To his credit, he sounded genuinely apologetic.

Unfortunately, he was still correct.

Which was much worse.

The realization settled heavily between them.

Because Cassian understood.

And Marian understood that he understood.

Neither liked it.

Finally Cassian spoke.

"You don’t actually want distance."

The words landed softly.

Like a blade.

Marian immediately shook her head.

"No."

The answer came too quickly.

Too honestly.

Cassian watched her.

Then:

"You wanted him to ignore it."

Silence.

Marian froze.

Because that was exactly what she’d wanted.

Not distance.

Not space.

Not time.

She wanted—

Stay.

Fight with me.

Follow me.

Choose me.

The realization hurt.

Deeply.

Marian laughed.

A broken laugh.

"I hate you."

Cassian nodded.

"A common response."

She should not have found that amusing.

Yet somehow she did.

The laughter faded.

The hurt remained.

And beneath it—

something else.

Something warmer.

Something sharper.

Anger.

For the first time since leaving Adrian, Marian felt it clearly.

Not sadness.

Not heartbreak.

Anger.

Months of it.

Months of waiting.

Months of hoping.

Months of being understanding.

Months of being second.

The realization made her sit straighter.

Cassian immediately noticed.

His expression became cautious.

Very cautious.

A wise choice.

"What?"

Marian asked.

"You’ve had another idea."

She looked offended.

"I have many ideas."

"That’s what worries me."

The corner of her mouth twitched.

Only slightly.

Then she looked toward the lake again.

For a long moment she said nothing.

When she finally spoke, her voice was quiet.

"He’ll regret it."

Cassian’s eyes narrowed.

"Marian."

"He will."

Not loud.

Not dramatic.

Certain.

The certainty surprised even her.

Because for the first time all afternoon, she meant it.

Not:

I hope he regrets it.

Not:

Maybe he’ll regret it.

He will.

Cassian studied her carefully.

As though examining an unexploded bomb.

A reasonable precaution.

"He asked for distance."

The words came slowly.

"He’ll get it."

Cassian closed his eyes.

Slowly.

As though counting to ten.

Perhaps twenty.

Perhaps one hundred.

Marian suspected she might require higher numbers.

When he finally opened his eyes again, he looked resigned.

Dangerously resigned.

"You know," he said, "this conversation is heading somewhere terrible."

Marian smiled.

A small smile.

A dangerous one.

"I know."

And for the first time that afternoon—

for the first time since the fight—

the sadness receded.

Not gone.

Never gone.

But pushed aside.

Making room for something else.

Something far more dangerous.

Cassian saw it happen.

And knew, with absolute certainty, that he should leave.

Immediately.

Unfortunately—

he remained exactly where he was.

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