Reincarnated as the Villainess’s Unlucky Bodyguard

"Unparalleled annoyance," I muttered, earning a sharp glare from both Enara and Ananara. Honestly, having two high-maintenance companions was bad enough. Having one of them be a talking fruit? That was pushing the limits of sanity.

We stepped into the Academy's cafeteria, a sprawling hall divided into two clear sections: the general eating area for regular students and the VIP section, where the more "important" individuals dined. Guess which side we were on?Nôv(el)B\\jnn

Enara strode toward the velvet-roped VIP area like she owned the place which, being the demon princess, she kind of did. I followed reluctantly, Ananara still perched on my shoulder like some bizarre crown of humiliation.

The VIP section was quieter, with cushioned chairs, elegantly carved tables, and a buffet that didn't look like it was one failed sneeze away from becoming a biohazard. Still, the tension was palpable. Nobles didn't do anything quietly not gossip, not judgmental stares, and certainly not power plays.

As we settled into our table, a waiter appeared with a tray of what looked like roasted pheasant and a selection of sparkling drinks. "For the young princess and her esteemed companion," he said with a bow, placing the plates in front of us.

"And what about me?" Ananara demanded.

The waiter blinked, clearly unsure whether he was hallucinating. "Ah… should I fetch a fruit bowl?"

"You dare?" Ananara hissed, his leaves bristling. "I am not some common garnish!"

"Just get him some juice," I said, waving the waiter off before the pineapple could escalate the situation into a full-blown diplomatic incident.

Enara smirked as she speared a piece of pheasant. "You know, you could leave him at home."

"I've tried," I said, taking a bite of my food. "He always finds me. It's like having a stalker with chlorophyll."

"Careful, Liria," Ananara said smugly. "I'm your greatest ally."

"You're my greatest headache," I shot back.

Before he could retort, a loud ahem interrupted us. I looked up to find a tall, imposing figure standing at the entrance to the VIP section. Seraphis, the Academy principal, and the last person I wanted to see during lunch.

Her presence was as commanding as ever sleek obsidian armor over a flowing black cloak, her silvery-white hair cascading like a waterfall over her shoulders. Her sharp, violet eyes locked onto mine, and I immediately knew this wasn't going to be a pleasant chat.

"Liria Silverthorn," she said, her voice cutting through the murmurs of the cafeteria like a blade. "My office. Now."

The walk to her office felt like a funeral march. Enara gave me a smug wave as I was escorted away, clearly enjoying my impending misery. Ananara, surprisingly, decided to stay quiet for once, though I could feel his disdain radiating from my shoulder like a tiny sun.

Seraphis's office was as cold and unwelcoming as the woman herself. The walls were lined with ancient tomes and relics, each one probably cursed or enchanted to kill you in increasingly creative ways. Her desk was a monolith of black stone, its surface so polished I could see my own reflection and the deep bags under my eyes.

"Sit," Seraphis commanded, gesturing to the chair in front of her desk.

I sat, trying not to fidget under her piercing gaze.

"I'll get straight to the point," she said, folding her hands on the desk. "I offered to take you on as my apprentice because I saw potential in you. Great potential. But I've been hearing… concerning things."

"Oh?" I said, feigning innocence. "Like what?"

Her eyes narrowed. "For one, your familiar."

Ananara, who had been pretending to be a regular pineapple on my lap, couldn't resist the bait. "Concerning? Madam, I am the pinnacle of familiar perfection."

Seraphis raised an eyebrow. "It talks?"

"I do more than talk," Ananara said indignantly. "I enlighten, I educate, and I endure endless indignities from this inept apprentice of yours."

"Not helping," I muttered, shoving him under the desk.

Seraphis sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Liria, I need to know if you're serious about this apprenticeship. Being my apprentice is a privilege, not a burden. If you can't commit to it, you should say so now."

Perfect opening, I thought. Time to execute my master plan: Make Seraphis regret ever considering me.

I leaned back in the chair, crossing my legs in the most nonchalant way possible. Seraphis's sharp violet gaze bore into me, but I wasn't about to back down. Time to crank up the chaos.

"Well," I began, resting my chin on my hand, "I suppose I could try harder, but let's be honest doesn't that sound exhausting? I mean, magic, swordsmanship, keeping Ananara out of trouble. It's a lot."

[She looks like she's one bad day away from ripping her own hair out. Want to help her along?] The system's snarky text materialized in my vision, accompanied by a faint chuckle only I could hear.

Not the worst idea.

Before Seraphis could retort, I casually reached out toward one of the ominous artifacts on her shelf a crystal orb with swirling red mist inside and ignited a tiny flame at my fingertip. My magic wasn't subtle, nor was it quiet. The fire flared to life with a crackling roar, and the orb shattered, releasing a puff of acrid smoke that smelled like burnt cinnamon.

Seraphis shot up from her chair. "What are you—"

"Oh no!" I gasped, not even attempting to sound sincere. "That must've been important, huh?"

["Ten points for dramatic destruction. Burn two more things and she might actually combust."]

Encouraged, I flicked my wrist toward a stack of papers on her desk. They erupted in flames, curling into ash in seconds. "Oops. My hand slipped. Guess fire magic isn't my strong suit yet."

Seraphis's expression morphed from fury to barely-contained murderous intent. "Silverthorn—"

"And then there's this," I said, pretending to examine my nails as I shot a spark toward an old tapestry hanging on the wall. It caught fire immediately, flames licking up the fabric as I leaned back in my chair. "Shouldn't you really invest in flame-resistant decor? It's an occupational hazard for people like us, don't you think?"

[Chef's kiss. Go big or go home.]

The final straw was, of course, her hair. Seraphis's once-perfectly arranged silvery locks hung like a shimmering cascade of power and authority. Naturally, it needed a touch of chaos.

Summoning a flame the size of a candle's flicker, I flicked it toward her hair, grinning as the end of one strand sizzled and sparked. The look on her face when she realized her precious hair was on fire? Priceless.

She slapped at her hair with both hands, extinguishing the flame before it spread further, but her cool, imposing demeanor was thoroughly demolished. Her once-sleek hair now had a jagged, scorched edge.

"LIRIA SILVERTHORN!" she bellowed, her voice shaking the entire office.

I gave her my best innocent look. "I think I need more training, don't you? Glad we had this little talk."

[Mission accomplished. Ten out of ten. You're a menace.]