I, The Villainess, Will Seduce All The Heroines Instead
Chapter 138: I Don’t Like You

Chapter 138: I Don’t Like You

"?!"

Neither of the women moved.

The weight of Clarina beneath her was firm, almost grounding in its unexpected steadiness.

Penelope could feel the knight’s calm, measured breaths against her skin, the faint metallic scent of her sword belt mingling with a softer undertone that was perhaps a hint of lavender lingering from Clarina’s cloak.

For a split second, time seemed to slow.

"So I wasn’t wrong...? You really are being needy, m’lady."

"M-M-M’lady?!"

Penelope scrambled to her feet, thoroughly flustered by what had just happened. She hated that "m’lady" of hers, that infuriatingly stern expression that always seemed to soften whenever their eyes met.

She hated it, and she had no idea why.

"Stop looking so surprised," Clarina said, trying to rise up herself. "I’m not here to humiliate you."

"Then... why?"

"Because I don’t like you. But I do respect you."

The blunt honesty hit Penelope like a splash of cold water. "Respect?" she echoed, confusion threading her tone. "You just said you don’t like me."

"Sometimes respect comes from understanding what drives someone, even if you don’t like the person."

She never expected this kind of truth from Clarina, especially not now, after all their teasing and clashes. The knight’s armor was showing cracks, just enough to let a sliver of something vulnerable peek through.

"You know," she murmured, her voice softening with tentative honesty, "I used to think people like you were... untouchable. That you lived in a world where nothing could break you."

Clarina’s brow furrowed, a flash of something raw slipping through her usual calm. For once, she didn’t toss back a biting retort. Instead, she looked away, jaw tightening as she wrestled an invisible weight. "Maybe that’s what we want people to think."

Penelope wanted to reach out, to bridge the gap between them, to break through the walls built from years of discipline and silence.

Instead, she only whispered, "You’re not untouchable."

"Neither are you."

Their eyes met—steady, searching. The usual noise of the world faded away, the clamor of training swords, Verena’s plotting, the chill of the stone walls. All of it dissolving into the background.

"Why are you even here?"

"Well, I’m just trying to adjust to m’lady," Clarina said, crossing her arms. "After all, Lady Verena does have a peculiar habit of picking up strays."

"ARE YOU SAYING I’M A STRAY?!"

"Are you not...?"

"I... I guess I am."

A whiny, pathetic stray—loud and prideful, all in a desperate attempt to be respected.

"And what about you? Why are you so eager to befriend me?"

Ever since Penelope had truly tasted loneliness, she found herself clinging to anything that felt remotely kind. There was hatred in everyone’s eyes, even Clarina’s at times. But unlike the others, Clarina had never once disrespected her. In fact, she’d been better company than Penelope had dared to hope for.

With Clarina, it felt... genuine. Like she didn’t need to keep her guard up. Because for once, she was with someone who didn’t look at the world through the lens of pride.

"You’re... a breath of fresh air."

"Me?" Clarina nearly laughed. A breath of fresh air? With how much blood she’d spilled, with hands that had known nothing but discipline and steel?

"Yes. You’re like... a dandelion."

"A weed?"

"N-No! I mean—yes, but not in a bad way! Dandelions are... they’re stubborn. They grow anywhere, even in places they shouldn’t. People try to pull them out, step on them, but they just come back stronger.... And even then," Penelope continued, voice quieting, "they’re kind of beautiful. Gentle. Bright. You don’t expect them to be so hard to break, but they are. They don’t need anyone’s approval to bloom."

She looked away, flustered. "That’s... what you’re like. I think."

There was a moment of silence before Clarina spoke, her tone unreadable. "I’ve never been compared to something so... whimsical before."

"Should I take it back?"

"No," Clarina murmured. "I think I’ll keep it." To her, this woman was starting to feel dangerously familiar. Just like Verena, Penelope had that same unpredictable spark, erratic one moment, disarmingly sincere the next.

They were both odd in their own ways, with a strange, sudden bloom of character that defied logic or timing.

It was like watching a storm decide to sprout flowers.

Two Verenas in one lifetime felt like some paradoxical curse: a hellish heaven, equal parts chaos and charm. And somehow, Clarina kept finding herself in the eye of that storm.

"Can we be friends, then?..."

"Not yet," Clarina replied, but in those final moments, they found themselves smiling at each other anyway.

[System Notification: Friendship Update!]

[Target: Penelope Vexian]

[+20 Friendship Points Earned!]

[Affection Points: 56]

***

Wow. I didn’t even have to do anything, and it all just fell into place!

Everything more or less returned to normal—her routines, her classes—save for the lingering suspicious stares from certain teachers who clearly weren’t fans. Despite the academy’s notoriously low pass rate, the student population remained massive, especially in the first year before most were weeded out. Popularity and prestige, after all, were excellent bait.

Atleast there were no more guards tailing her either, except for Anastasia, who had very obviously been instructed to keep an eye on her.

"Why are you like this..." Verena muttered to herself as class began. She turned her head and jumped.

Anastasia was staring straight at her, expression blank but eyes sharp as daggers.

Eep!"

"Is something wrong?" Beatrice asked, tilting her head.

"Ah... no, just a mosquito," Verena lied smoothly. But when she glanced at Beatrice again, she was stunned.

There was a faint red mark on Beatrice’s neck.

"...And who, exactly, bit you?"

"Ah... this? There’s really no need for you to worry."

Huh?

Why did that make her feel oddly deflated?

Had Beatrice... given herself to someone again? PVerena was concerned, sure, but other people’s love lives weren’t exactly her business.

"Are you sure? You’re usually always in yapping mode..."

Beatrice’s tone sharpened, unusually curt for her. "Let’s just... not talk about it."