Reincarnated as the Villainess’s Unlucky Bodyguard

I woke with a start, heart thundering painfully against my ribs, my breath ragged and uneven. The chamber around me was dark, the shadows thick enough to press in against my skin like velvet, yet they did nothing to soothe the lingering dread that crawled beneath the surface of my thoughts.

I'd dreamed of Enara again. Her voice, her touch, her words all of it clung to me, refusing to fade even as consciousness returned. But beneath the ache of longing, another sensation pulsed quietly, a warning whisper that something had nearly happened tonight something darker than the shadows that surrounded me.

Sitting up slowly, I pushed back the tangled sheets, letting the cool air chill my overheated skin. I flexed my fingers, still trembling faintly, before pressing my hands against my face, trying to steady my nerves.

[Another nightmare?] the system asked softly, sensing my distress.

"I'm not sure it was just a nightmare," I whispered, more to myself than to the presence lingering in my mind.

I felt strangely exposed, vulnerable as if someone had watched me in my sleep. A quiet shiver trailed down my spine, and instinctively my eyes flicked toward the door, half-expecting to find it open.

But it was firmly shut, silent as a tomb.

Still, the unease refused to fade.

I rose shakily, pulling a long cloak around my shoulders before stepping silently out of my chamber. I needed air, clarity, a reprieve from dreams and shadows and memories I couldn't shake.

The fortress corridors stretched ahead, dimly lit by torches burning their unnatural violet flames. Minions scurried past me silently, their eyes averted respectfully, sensing the tension radiating from my very being. My footsteps echoed softly against stone, the sound oddly comforting amid oppressive silence.

Eventually, I found myself at the entrance of the grand library, a cavernous room filled with towering shelves and countless ancient texts. Here, at least, I hoped my restless thoughts might find distraction if only briefly.

I stepped inside, inhaling deeply. The scent of parchment, ink, and leather-bound tomes soothed something inside me, grounding my chaotic emotions. I wandered between the shelves aimlessly, fingers trailing lightly over spines etched with forgotten names, languages lost to time.

Until one book drew my gaze abruptly a thin volume bound in dark silk, unmarked, placed deliberately apart from others. I felt inexplicably drawn to it, fingers hovering cautiously above its surface, heart beating faster as though it whispered directly to me.

Gently, hesitantly, I picked it up, turning carefully toward a reading table near a flickering candle. The silk felt strangely cold beneath my touch, and a faint hum of dormant magic tingled against my fingertips.

"What are you hiding?" I murmured softly, opening the cover carefully.

Words shimmered faintly on the first page, ancient script I shouldn't have understood yet the meaning flooded my mind with perfect clarity:

"Chains of the mind, shackles of the heart,Bind the soul till freedom departs."

My chest tightened painfully, recognizing the dark incantation manipulation magic of the most insidious kind. I turned the pages rapidly, dread pooling sharply in my stomach, each verse darker than the last, describing control, dominance, the erasure of will.

[Someone's been busy,] the system muttered darkly. [And this definitely isn't recreational reading.]

"No," I whispered shakily, flipping back to the first page. "It's forbidden magic."

And only one person within these walls possessed the power and motive to wield such darkness: Azael.

Cold realization washed over me, sharp and bitter. This book wasn't merely idle curiosity it was a direct threat. A warning or perhaps preparation. My hesitation, my conflict, had tested the Sovereign's patience more than I realized.

She'd nearly bound my will tonight.

[Then why didn't she go through with it?] the system asked cautiously.

I hesitated, troubled. "Maybe she still believes I'll choose willingly."

[Or maybe she's realized manipulation won't win your loyalty, only obedience.]

I swallowed hard, closing the tome gently. Either possibility terrified me equally. Azael's restraint tonight wasn't mercy—it was strategic, dangerous. She was giving me one final opportunity to surrender willingly before she took the choice entirely from my hands.

And once she did, there'd be no escape.

My thoughts raced desperately. If she intended this, then time was slipping through my fingers like sand. The chains of loyalty, of obedience, of darkness itself threatened to wrap tightly around my heart, my mind, my very soul.

But even now, standing on the precipice of losing everything my freedom, my identity, my humanity I knew the truth I'd tried desperately to deny:

I couldn't give myself entirely to darkness. Enara's face still haunted me, her voice still echoed softly in the silence of my heart, urging me toward something brighter, warmer, something true. Even the smallest thought of betraying her again filled me with unbearable anguish.

"Enara," I whispered quietly, clinging desperately to her name as though it might anchor me to sanity. "What do I do?"

No answer came from the shadows, only silence pressing heavily against me. Yet somehow, the mere invocation of her name steadied my resolve, sharpening my focus.

Slowly, I placed the forbidden book back where I'd found it, stepping carefully away as though it might spring to life at any moment.

But it wasn't merely the book I had to fear it was the woman behind it, the woman I'd trusted, followed, learned from. Azael had given me power, confidence, purpose but at what cost?

[She's counting on your fear to make you comply,] the system warned softly. [But fear isn't loyalty. It's just another form of chains.]

My jaw tightened resolutely. "I refuse to be her puppet."

But defiance alone wasn't enough I needed strength, knowledge, a plan. Azael was ancient, cunning, immensely powerful. Facing her openly was suicide without preparation.

The thought of leaving crossed my mind briefly, fleeing back to Daena, to Enara but guilt twisted painfully at the idea. Would they even accept me after everything I'd done?

Did I even deserve their forgiveness?

[I think you already know the answer to that,] the system said gently.

I exhaled slowly, stepping toward the library's exit. Maybe I didn't deserve forgiveness but perhaps that was exactly why I had to earn it. Staying here, letting darkness consume me entirely, would only deepen wounds already inflicted.

I needed distance, clarity, a chance to reclaim myself before it was too late. I couldn't fight Azael openly not yet but I could resist quietly, patiently, until the moment presented itself clearly.

As I stepped into the shadowed corridor, determination solidified sharply within my chest. I'd made mistakes, countless betrayals, let darkness seep deep into my bones but tonight, standing at the edge of my humanity, I finally understood:

My choices mattered.

My heart mattered.

And no matter how stained by darkness I'd become, Enara had seen something worth saving. Perhaps it was finally time to believe in that myself.

But just as the decision settled firmly into my mind, footsteps echoed softly behind me, steady, deliberate.

"Trouble sleeping, Liria?"

I froze, recognizing instantly the voice that sent chills crawling down my spine. Slowly, carefully, I turned to face her—Azael stood only a few steps away, eyes narrowed thoughtfully, golden gaze burning sharply into mine.

My pulse quickened instinctively, though I maintained careful composure. "Dreams."

She tilted her head gracefully, studying me intently. "Dreams or doubts?"

I held her gaze steadily, refusing to flinch. "Maybe both."

Her lips curved faintly into a dangerous smile. "Then perhaps clarity is overdue."

The warning pulsed clearly beneath her words, and I felt cold dread tighten painfully in my chest. She knew of course, she did. She always knew.

Yet instead of panic, something else flickered sharply inside me defiance, fierce and sudden. I straightened slowly, meeting her eyes boldly.

"Clarity," I echoed carefully, voice quiet but firm, "is exactly what I need."

Azael's expression remained carefully neutral, unreadable. Yet beneath the calm facade, her gaze sharpened slightly, sensing perhaps my shifting resolve.

"Then choose carefully, child," she murmured softly, voice filled with quiet menace and unsettling allure. "Your path forward will have no room for hesitation."

I inclined my head slightly, silent acknowledgment passing between us. "Understood."

She lingered briefly, golden eyes piercing deeply into mine, searching carefully for signs of rebellion. But I held her gaze steadily, revealing nothing of the turmoil swirling beneath my carefully constructed mask.

Eventually, she turned away gracefully, disappearing silently into the shadows without another word. Only when I was certain she'd left entirely did I release the breath I'd unknowingly been holding, tension draining sharply from my body.

[You played that well,] the system praised cautiously. [But this isn't over.]

"I know," I whispered softly, eyes narrowing thoughtfully. "But it's a start."

I moved swiftly back toward my chambers, heart pounding fiercely yet strengthened by newfound determination. Azael intended to break me, mold me, bind me tightly beneath her control but tonight, something crucial had shifted inside me.

I wasn't just darkness, betrayal, and regret I was choice, freedom, resilience. And despite every mistake, every wound, every shadow within I finally recognized that my heart, fragile yet fiercely alive, mattered more than obedience.

No matter how difficult the path ahead might be, I would walk it defiant, resolute, and finally, fully myself.

And when the moment came to confront Azael, I would no longer hesitate.

Because tonight, for the first time in far too long, I chose freedom.

I chose me.