The Return of the Young Lady and a Fateful Encounter

Having left the alias ‘Della’ for the Saintess to contend with, Stella returned to the Candace estate.

The necklace adorning her chest pulsed with a soft white light, signaling the completion of her transformation. Her full night-stalker attire was seamlessly absorbed into the necklace’s internal space, and Stella once again embodied the refined young lady of the Candace family.

“Miss, you’ve returned.”

The maid, who had been waiting patiently by the door for a considerable time, finally exhaled in relief. In her hands, she held a crimson velvet cloak, which Stella effortlessly slipped on as she stepped inside.

“There should be a letter waiting from home,” Stella stated, striding directly towards the study at the end of the corridor.

“Oh, Miss, you truly are prescient,” the maid affirmed with a nod. Indeed, two letters had arrived at the manor.

“Prepare a bowl of fried rice for me. And please retrieve the seal for the reply from the butler. I intend to write the responses myself tonight.”

“Oh! Miss is so impressive!”

The maid’s sudden, bold compliment caused Stella’s brow to subtly arch. She cast a slight, appraising glance at the girl beside her.

With black hair and eyes, a fair and healthy complexion, and nimble hands, the maid’s most striking quality was her unusually daring way of speaking.

“Are you new here?” Stella inquired, a hint of speculation in her voice.

“Yes, I’ve only been here for two months! This is the first time I’ve spoken so much with you, Miss!” The maid’s enthusiasm was palpable, seemingly oblivious to the formidable reputation of the villainous young lady.

“What is your impression of me? Be honest; I won’t hold it against you.”

“Hmm… I rarely see you, Miss, but I’ve heard from the senior maids that you are a very strict mistress, and everything must be done perfectly.”

“Good. I need someone like you—someone who dares to speak the truth. What is your name?”

“To answer Miss, my name is Cynthia.”

“Very well, Cynthia. From now on, you will attend to matters by my side. I will ensure you receive additional compensation.”

“Thank you, Miss!”

Cynthia clapped her hands together, grateful for Stella’s words. However, Stella was not selecting a confidante without ulterior motives; a subtle smile played on her lips, revealing her other plans.

Soon, the two letters were brought to the study, and a bowl of fried rice was placed upon the desk.

Stella meticulously read the contents of both letters, gleaning two crucial pieces of information.

First, her parents were due to return in a week’s time. A grand banquet would be held at the Candace manor upon their arrival, and the letter specifically urged the sisters to get along well.

Second, Saintess Eveming had sent word that she would visit the Candace family tomorrow afternoon, necessitating preparations for an appropriate reception ceremony.

If this were the Stella from the original narrative, she would undoubtedly have been vexed by these two matters, finding no interest in either of them. She might even have thrown a baseless tantrum, for both reconciling with her sister and hosting the Saintess seemed utterly troublesome.

However, the current Stella had far better plans.

“I’ve drawn up the shopping list for ingredients and decorations. Tomorrow morning, you and the butler will go to the market. There are a few special items you must bring to me for inspection separately.”

Stella handed the completed list to Cynthia.

Cynthia gazed at the neat handwriting and the clearly organized list, finding it difficult to believe that her young mistress had penned it herself, and with such astonishing speed!

“I never heard that Miss could do such things. You truly are amazing.”

“Mere praise won’t lead to a raise in salary.”

“I wasn’t trying to flatter you, Miss! It’s just… for you to handle affairs so competently at such a young age is genuinely hard to believe.”

“Oh, you say I’m young?”

Stella turned her head with interest. Her smile, though pleasant, sent an unsettling chill down Cynthia’s spine—perhaps this was the innate talent of a villainess.

“Uh, I didn’t mean to disrespect you, Miss! I merely…”

Cynthia panicked, realizing she had misspoken. The way Stella stared at her was truly terrifying.

“It’s fine for you to say some things to my face. But once you step out of this door, I do not wish for others to hear such remarks.”

Stella tapped the desk with her hand, and Cynthia immediately fell silent. A loud alarm blared in her mind, instantly recognizing the distinct difference between mistress and servant.

Miss Stella, when she’s subtly angry, she’s absolutely chilling!

“Alright, you may go.”

“Yes.”

Cynthia closed the study door and departed, leaving Stella alone in the room. Stella gazed at the ceiling, contemplating how to face her parents’ return.

It seemed improbable to force herself to coax her sister back, as her sister genuinely disliked her. Yet, being scolded by her parents would be equally unpleasant.

Stella felt a slight headache brewing. After all, she was indeed her parents’ biological daughter; their affection was real, and her desire to avoid their reprimands was equally so.

Recalling the original plot, Stella had turned the Saintess away during her visit. Later, at the parents’ return banquet, the Saintess appeared with her sister, Mylian. This led to Stella being chastised by her parents, causing Stella to harbor deep resentment, ultimately betraying her family ties to seek revenge on the Saintess. This culminated in Mylian herself imprisoning and corrupting her.

After reviewing the plot, Stella’s thoughts began to crystallize. She simply needed to concoct a reason to ‘abduct’ her sister home to appease their parents. As for that reason…

I have it! It seems I’ll have to provoke my sister again tomorrow.

Stella formulated a plan in her mind. She intended to rummage through her sister’s belongings, knowing there was something Mylian desperately needed to repair. She would then fabricate a reason why it absolutely had to be brought home for mending.

The following morning, Stella used her necklace to change into a black uniform before leaving the estate. Her attire still included the silver mask and black goggles.

Miraculously, the snow that had fallen all night had ceased. The streets sparkled with crystalline frost, and people everywhere were sweeping away the snow with brooms, the rhythmic rustling of their labor filling the air.

Arriving at the shop from the previous night, Stella pushed the door open. A quick inquiry to a server swiftly yielded news of her sister.

“You mean the young lady from last night? She left not long ago. She didn’t even want to stay for breakfast.”

“Thank you.”

Stella felt no surprise. She had anticipated that someone with her sister’s strong sense of pride would not patiently wait for her.

“However, that young lady left a note. Would you like to see it?”

“Oh? Please, I must.”

The server retrieved a slip of paper from the counter and handed it to Stella.

[I don’t like you, but I remember this meal today. When I become strong, I will definitely help you if you need me. —Mylian]

What a thing to say. So, you were willing to tell me your name in the end, Sister.

Stella chuckled softly, pocketing the note. She turned and exited the restaurant, her next step to find Mylian herself.

Her sister was likely preoccupied with returning to her original home. She might seek out adventurers for directions, so following the clues to the Adventurer’s Guild seemed the most logical path.

As Stella walked, she considered backup plans. She wouldn’t lose track of her sister, not with the abundance of magical treasures and resources in her basement.

However, the crowd around her suddenly began to stir, agitated by the appearance of something.

“Hey! Look, it’s the Saintess’s carriage! The banner is hers, no mistake!”

“Oh my! Why has the Saintess suddenly graced us with her presence?”

“Why is someone blocking the Saintess’s carriage? Do they have a death wish?”

The murmurs of the crowd grew increasingly fervent. Stella, unable to resist her curiosity, glanced over, but the sight that met her eyes made her heart tremble.

A suitcase lay crushed on the ground, its contents almost entirely unrecognizable. Mylian stood with her arm outstretched, blocking the carriage, while a Saintess’s guard held a sword to her neck.

And from the carriage window, Saintess Eveming peered out, seemingly looking directly at Mylian!

Why are they meeting? How could things spiral so far beyond my control!

Stella vaguely foresaw her own downfall.