Chereads / Tales of the Black Rose / Chapter 17 - Turning Tables (Part II)

Chapter 17 - Turning Tables (Part II)

"Tell me. What would it take for you to cry?"

-Viola Adelais to Rosanna Castus

***

In the game, Viola Adelais went straight into bullying Rosanna Castus during their first few weeks of class.

It started with little things. Missing books, death threats in their locker, then Rosanna would find her dorms vandalized with all sorts of crude words, like 'bitch', 'loser', and a bunch of other profanities. Rosanna kept silent, like any other tortured MC, but this would only serve as fuel to the fire — because Viola would take Rosanna's silence as a challenge.

Nothing would faze her, the villainess thought. So the harassment escalated, and while Rosanna slowly gained popularity, Viola herself had assembled a group of lackeys who got off power-tripping with other students. They waited until Rosanna was alone, surrounded her, and sipped a mug of hot chocolate — before dumping it over Rosanna's head.

"Commoners will always be commoners no matter how pretty you dress them," she sneered. Nobody bothered to correct her that technically, there were no commoners present, as Rosanna Castus was born a pure-blood noble. Her family had simply fallen into disgrace, but maybe that's how the rest of the world saw it, too.

(Amelia had, in fact, launched into a very heated argument regarding the unexplored dilemma of what exactly makes a noble. Between a pure-blood noble with a tarnished name and a fake one with a stellar reputation...which one held more value? Apparently, no one gave a fuck since this is, quote-unquote, just a feel-good visual-novel dating game.)

That said, whatever symbolism the hot chocolate was supposed to represent, Amelia also didn't know. Anyone with common sense can understand the scene was made to paint Rosanna as a pitiful character — the heroine who did nothing wrong. Rosanna had knelt, allowed the hot drink to wash over her, and didn't make as much as a single peep. She didn't even bother to ask why they were doing this to her.

It had been cool to watch a few times. It reminded Amelia of those unflinching ice princess character types, who endured the world's beatings until it was time to fight back. But soon Rosanna was getting dunked on every route, and Amelia simply had no choice but to root for the villain.

"At least Viola can change tactics," Amelia had argued, pissing off a bunch of delusional fans who were under the impression that they were 'Rosanna' themselves. It wasn't Amelia that was wrong, it was the world! Why can't the game understand that there were people who didn't like playing doormats at every turn? Can't they at least add an option where Rosanna fights back? Just a little bit?

But all of that seemed so far away now, especially since the tables have turned. Viola Adelais stood on the opposite side of the bullies she once led, sprawled on the ground like a damsel in distress. She tried to hold her head up high despite their words, but Rosanna could see it — the ceaseless bobbing off her throat and her trembling hands.

What's this? Why…does the villainess look so pathetic?

All around them, the people gave them a wide berth. It was as if, just by averting their gazes, they can at least keep themselves out of the investigation that was sure to follow.

"Look at you," Their leader, a black-haired girl with a beauty mark under her eye, smirked. "All pitiful without mommy and daddy. You've finally stepped out of your castle, Ice Princess. Are you disappointed about the real world?"

Viola picked herself back up and flashed the girl her trademark I'll-kill-you stare. "You come with me at my table, insult me out of the blue, and now you're making a scene because I couldn't give you the time of the day."

Deep inside, Rosanna squealed. Now that was more like the villainess she knew!

But Viola wasn't finished: "Disappointed? Hmph. I don't even know you."

After that, the strangest thing happened. For a moment, it seemed as if time slowed down just enough for her to catch the leader snatch something for a passerby's tray. She began to march towards Viola in decisive steps, a mug in her hand.

Rosanna knew that mug.

"My lady—!" Vincent yelled.

Splash!

Rosanna stood in front of Viola, her hands spread wide to shield her from the splash. The hot contents drenched Rosanna from her head down to her shoulders, turning her white dress into a shade of brown.

At first, there was shock.

And then came the searing pain.

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH! Rosanna bit her lip, trying to keep the scream inside. How the fuck did the original Rosanna Castus withstand this? How the fuck did she not cry?

Why is this simple hot chocolate burning like the fires of hell?

When she opened her eyes, she found the black-haired girl staring at her in astonishment. "I—who—why did you—"

It reminded Rosanna - no, Amelia - of everything she had to endure in her first life, the memories stinging harder than the burn. Spilled coffees at the workplace and bowed heads. Flying papers and endless apologies over lost documents. People like Viola's lackeys, filling in the form of Amelia's superiors, co-workers, ex-friends...classmates.

She clenched her jaw.

"You ruined my only uniform."

***

At first, Vincent Evandro didn't pay much attention to the oddball they called Rosanna Castus.

His job as The Crown Prince's personal guard demanded that he observed and took note of everything that happened related to the Crown Prince, including possible dangers. To that end, Her Majesty even ordered to have him in the same school as his, bending the rules just to make way for another spot at the Academy. He didn't really care about the nonsense she spouted on the first day — after all, none of it compared to his own notes — but for some reason, the Crown Prince was shaken to his core and even demanded to have her interrogated.

He had never seen the Crown Prince raise his sword towards a lady.

At the same time, he was never assigned to guard a lady at His Highness' behest. "I'll explain it to the Queen if she finds out," Damian had promised. All Vincent had to do, he said, was to keep track of the girl for any suspicious or strange movements.

So far, he learned that Rosanna liked to deliberately rile up their teachers. She says things that no sane student around their age would say, liked to brag about herself, and often held herself with the countenance of a dignified envoy…until she opens her mouth. Vincent had done everything he could to pry more information out of her, but she didn't seem to be aware herself of how grave it was to be involved with the Imperial Family's affairs.

And now, she's somehow managed to get involved with the Adelais too.

This wasn't part of Vincent's job description. No training in the palace ever prepared him how to intervene in a fight between nobles. He had rushed in as soon as his charge left the table, following Rosanna. But where Vincent had stayed on the sides — as any sensible person would — Rosanna Castus had a completely different idea.

Before he knew it, she was standing in the middle of the girls, drenched.

"Oh no," Lady Viola whispered, horrified. She lay on the ground, at a loss of what to do, until Vincent helped her up and pulled her out of trouble. He felt every bit of disbelief that was probably coursing through her veins right now. Not had the Crown Prince's fiance narrowly escaped a mug of hot beverage in the face, it had to happen under Vincent's watch too!

"Please stay put, my lady." He assured her, even though his hands were shaking a little bit. "I'll try to help Miss Castus—"

"Who the hell are you?" A voice cut in, right before Vincent can finish his sentence. One of the girls stepped up, looking like she was about to grab Rosanna's dress. The leader stopped her with an arm, and instead went ahead for herself.

"Well, well, well," she crooned. She stepped towards Rosanna, leaning down to get a good look at her face. "Looks like we have a busybody here—"

"You ruined my only uniform," Rosanna spoke up.

Vincent had seen these types of confrontations before. Nobles had them all the time back at the Imperial Palace, and among guards, they were even more common. There was always a pecking order to these things. His status as His Highness' personal guard had saved Vincent plenty of times, but he couldn't say the same for underdogs who had no backing whatsoever.

Rosanna Castus was just that. Yes, she may have been involved with

The girl stopped in her tracks. Understanding dawned on her face, as she slowly realized who she was speaking to.

"Wait, you're—"

"That hurts like a bitch, too."

Watching the whole exchange, Vincent thought of the rumors circulating the Academy: the Castus' only daughter, the once-golden child Rosanna, was now reduced to a deranged, mannerless harlot who liked to prey on men.

He couldn't see the expression on the girl's face, the girl who threw the mug had completely deflated. Gone was the anger that was directed at Viola earlier, and in its stead was fear, quietly spreading among her accomplices.

Vincent usually saw that expression on servants who made a blunder in front of the royals. Rosanna stepped forward, adjusting the sleeves of her stained dress.

"Brats like you need to understand something," She said, picking up another mug from a nearby table.

'Your Highness, there are better uses for my abilities,' Vincent had pleaded. 'Please reconsider my new assignment. That girl couldn't hurt a fly.'

"Where I'm from, people are capable of doing much, much worse." Rosanna proceeded to pour the contents of the mug over their heads. "So don't talk about the real world in front of me, okay? I hate remembering that place."

The students around them gasped — but made no move to stop her. Like a gardener watering her plants, she didn't waste any drop and made sure everyone had their fair share of the beverage. The girls' mouths fell open and haven't been able to close them ever since.

"There," She threw down the mug, breaking it into pieces. "Now we match!"