Reincarnated as the Villainess’s Unlucky Bodyguard

The sun dipped low as Liria and Enara trudged toward the looming silhouette of the royal castle. Their footsteps dragged, their breaths came in labored puffs, and their appearances were… less than regal.

Liria glanced down at herself and groaned. Her once-pristine tunic was a scorched ruin, torn and singed in a dozen places. Her trousers had fared no better, now resembling a patchwork of soot and holes. Her hair, usually tied neatly, was sticking out at odd angles, and a streak of dirt ran down her cheek.

Next to her, Enara looked no better. Her dark locks were matted with sweat and ash, and the hems of her elegant outfit were frayed and blackened. Her normally radiant demon-princess aura was thoroughly overshadowed by her bedraggled state.

And nestled smugly in Liria's arms was Ananara, the Sovereign of the Sweet Sands. Its tiny limbs twitched happily as it hummed a cheerful tune that seemed to mock their disheveled condition.

"Do you think we'll make it to the castle without someone mistaking us for vagrants?" Liria muttered.

Enara snorted. "At this rate? Someone's going to toss a coin at us out of pity."

[Suggestion: Present yourselves as victorious warriors who survived an epic battle. Confidence may help offset the visual… deficiencies.]

Liria shot the system a mental glare. "I don't think the queens are going to be impressed by our 'confidence.'"

Enara squinted ahead. The massive gates of the royal castle loomed closer, their surface glittering faintly in the fading sunlight. Two guards stood at attention, their imposing figures casting long shadows.

As the girls approached, one guard took a step forward, his eyes narrowing. "State your business."

"It's me, Enara," she said with a weary wave, trying and failing to sound dignified. "Let us in."

The guard's brow furrowed. His gaze flicked to her and then to Liria, his frown deepening. "Lady Enara…?"

"Yes, it's me! What, do you need proof?" Enara snapped, gesturing to her face.

"Well," the guard said slowly, "you… don't exactly look like yourself."

Enara planted her hands on her hips. "What is that supposed to mean?"

Liria sighed. "We've been through a dungeon. We're exhausted. Just let us through."

The second guard stepped forward, his eyes fixed on the pineapple in Liria's arms. "What… is that?"

"This," Ananara declared, puffing out its tiny chest, "is your future overlord. Bow before me, mortals!"

The guard blinked. "It talks?"

"No, it doesn't," Liria said quickly, tightening her grip on the pineapple. "You're imagining things. Open the gate, please."

After a long pause, the guards exchanged a look, shrugged, and stepped aside. The gates creaked open, revealing the grand courtyard of the castle.

"Finally," Enara muttered, stomping ahead.

They made their way through the castle's labyrinthine halls, drawing stares and whispers from every servant and noble they passed. Liria didn't blame them. Two soot-covered, ragged girls carrying a smug, talking pineapple wasn't exactly a common sight.

By the time they reached the throne room, Liria's patience was hanging by a thread. She wanted nothing more than a bath, clean clothes, and about a week of uninterrupted sleep.

The massive double doors swung open, revealing the two queens seated on their thrones. Queen Verida, with her fiery red skin and piercing golden eyes, sat like a coiled predator. Beside her, Queen Nyssara exuded a cool, otherworldly grace, her lavender skin glowing faintly in the torchlight.

Both women's eyes widened as they took in the sight of their daughter and her companion.

Verida, her fiery red skin almost glowing under the torchlight, arched a sharp brow. "What," she began in a tone laced with incredulity, "happened to you two? I was under the impression this was a simple F-rank dungeon."

Nyssara's lavender lips twitched, her usual calm demeanor cracking just slightly as her violet gaze lingered on Liria's soot-streaked face and the ragged, flammable mess of Enara's once-pristine attire. "It appears it was more eventful than anticipated."

Enara straightened, brushing a smudge of ash from her arm with forced nonchalance. "Eventful? Mother, it was a mere walk in the park if the park was on fire and full of murderous wyrmlings."

Liria, carrying Ananara like an awkward bouquet, shot Enara a sidelong glare. "Define 'mere.'"

"It was fine! We're alive, aren't we?" Enara gestured dramatically, as if that settled everything.

Nyssara rose from her throne, her silken robes flowing like liquid moonlight. "Alive, certainly, but you look as though you crawled out of a battle rather than walked out of a dungeon."

"And what," Verida interjected, her golden eyes narrowing on Ananara, "is that?"

Ananara perked up, its tiny arms waving in excitement. "I am Ananara, Sovereign of the Sweet Sands! Kneel before me, mortals!"

Verida's face was a masterpiece of disbelief. "A sentient fruit?"

Nyssara tilted her head, intrigued. "Fascinating. And how exactly did this… individual become part of your party?"

Before Liria could explain or make up a believable excuse Ananara took matters into its own metaphorical hands. "I was their guide and moral support through the trials of the dungeon. Without me, they'd still be fumbling in the dark!"

"Liar," Liria muttered under her breath.

Enara snorted. "More like lying on your back, flailing around while we fought a wyrmling."

"I was conserving my strength!" Ananara retorted indignantly.

Nyssara suppressed a chuckle, while Verida pinched the bridge of her nose, muttering something about how her daughter always brought home the strangest things.

"Regardless," Nyssara said, her tone shifting back to regal authority, "you completed the dungeon and returned safely. That is what matters most. However..."

Liria felt the weight of the queen's gaze settle on her.

"We have matters to discuss." Nyssara's voice was gentle but firm.

Verida crossed her arms. "Tomorrow marks the beginning of the new term at the Demon Academy."

Enara groaned loudly. "Already? Can't it wait? I just saved the world from a wyrmling." Explore stories at empire

"You saved a small corner of a dungeon from a wyrmling," Verida corrected dryly. "And no, it cannot wait. You will attend, as planned."

Nyssara's gaze shifted to Liria. "And as Enara's bodyguard, you will accompany her."

Liria blinked. "Me? At the academy?"

Verida's golden eyes gleamed. "Yes. If you're going to protect her, you'll need to stay close. The academy will be the perfect environment for both of you to grow stronger."

"Wait, wait, wait," Liria said, holding up a hand. "Let me get this straight. You're sending me, a human, into a school full of demons?"

Nyssara's lips curved into a faint smile. "Yes. You've proven capable thus far. Besides, I suspect you'll find it… enlightening."

Enara smirked, clearly enjoying the situation far too much. "Guess you're stuck with me, bodyguard."

Liria let out a groan, already imagining the chaos that would ensue. "This feels less like a job and more like a punishment."

[Advisory: Demon academies are notoriously challenging environments. Survival may require significant effort. Recommend preparation.]

"Yeah, thanks for the vote of confidence," Liria thought sourly.

Ananara wriggled in her arms, its smug voice breaking the tension. "A demon academy, you say? Excellent! I shall conquer it with my charm and intellect!"

Nyssara raised an amused brow. "I suppose that means the fruit is attending as well?"n/o/vel/b//in dot c//om

"Apparently," Liria said, feeling her grip on sanity slipping.

"Wonderful," Verida said flatly. "Now, go get cleaned up. You look like beggars who raided a bakery and lost the fight with the oven."

Enara huffed, but Liria didn't argue. The thought of a hot bath was the only thing keeping her upright.

As they exited the throne room, Ananara continued its monologue of self-praise, and Liria sighed.