So You've Become a Villainess: an (Otome) Isekai Raising Project

MrRageQuit said:

Just read through this quest. Question though: shouldn't the non-Brainy/Artsy aptitudes be Good, not Great, since they're just +4?

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Good eye.

It may be the year of the Rabbit, but in here it's always the year of the Monke


Once you finished making sure your dynamic entry didn't seriously injure your groupies or mess up the castle, you get to thinking.

<Emo>: "There must be something wrong with us..."

<Sensible>: "There's something wrong with you being a pain in my patootie, missy!"

The showwoman in you wanted to kayfabe a match with Prince Alteisen. You always were a fan of women's pro wrestling, even when it went kinda creepy otaku in the 21st century. The lioness pride, the pageantry, the colorful bathing suits; all things you used to shape who you are today. "Victory Through Guts" is as important a catchphrase to you as "Full effort, full throttle," and just as copyright infringing!

...But you don't know if the Prince would play along. He has that catlike energy to him, aloof and languid. You know from future past experience kitty has claws. He seemed bemused by you knocking Bridgette on her butt, but you honestly didn't pay enough attention to him in game to read if that was good or bad bemusement.

If only Chiaki got to play Fall From Grace! She would've loved it, for one and she would be able to be your cheat skill for two. Despite being in an isekai cliche, you realize you're flying blind in critically important ways.

So you're not gonna kayfabe it, and you're not gonna fight him straight-up, even if it would be fun to knock his dick into the dirt, as Chiaki said.

<Sporty>: "Backing down from a challenge? That's not like us at all."

<Brainy>: "There are finally enough working parts of our brain to have veto power over your primitive mind."

<Sporty>: "Oh yeah? Well your face is primitive!"

Brainy hides her face, embarrassed. "We have the same face, fool!"

<Sporty>: "Nuh-uh, mine's more tan and has a bandage on it."

Brainy makes pained, choking noises while you make your decision. As if on cue, Chiaki appears beside you.

You stand on your tiptoes to whisper to her. "We should let Justine handle it."

Chiaki quirks and eyebrow and nods. "Understood. A rational decision, Young Mistress." She curtsies deeply to you and ninja vanishes, so you head over to Bridgette. She's been watching you the whole time, tapping her foot impatiently as she leans against an ornate set of armor.

"You must wanna make Elder Brother squirm, huh?" Bridgette says, running a hand through her hair. "Can't really say I mind. Mister Prissypants can wait a little."

You cat smile at her, stray locks of your hair worm their way free to point at her. "Weren't you the one who said we needed to be punctual, Buri?"

"Y-Yeah," Bridgette says, flustered. "But that's because I had to look proper in front of everybody. When it's just us..." She blushes and frowns.

"What about the groupies?"

Lily waves. "It's fine to forget about me, most people do!" You notice her nose has healed.

The physicker looks like she wants to disappear. You get the feeling she wasn't supposed to have lines and being a part of the main event is deeply uncomfortable to her.

Bridgette shrugs. "They're background noise, Big Sis." So were you in the game.

"That makes them as much a part of the setting as anyone," you say, patting your bun. "I need to carry myself as royalty, and any royal needs a retinue, no?"

Bridgette clicks her tongue. "That make me part of your 'retinue,' Big Sis?" You sense danger in those words.

You give her a big ol' bomb-defusing hug. "Course not! You're my friend and fist sister!"

<Sensible>: "Word choice!"

Bridgette squirms and makes awkward noises before hugging you back with equal force.

She gives you a cheeky grin. "Man, if you weren't betrothed to my bro, I'd make you mine!" Her face turns red in an endless spaghetti instant. "Just kidding, haha..."

<Flashy>: "That is the least convincing "just kidding" I've ever heard, dahling."


After a little bit of unplanned Luminous between you and Bridgette, you, her, and your groupies finally make it to the big hall.

You've seen this once, in Fall From Grace. It was one of the richest, most beautiful CGs you had ever seen, with colors so deep and rich you felt you could dive into it.

Now that you're in it, the opulence envelops you like marshmallow fluff. The Big Event theme reverbetates across the room, shaking you with the vibrations. A platinum chandelier the size of a small Christmas tree hangs from the center of a Roman-style marble dome. Scenes of battle and glory adorn the ceiling, moving with your perspective.

Around you are plates of food fit for Valhalla on giant shields repurposed as serving tables. Nobles in gossamer fabrics cavort like gods around them. It's enough to make you feel underdressed...if not for the grumbling of your tummy drowning out all rational thought.

With an inhuman squee, you tear into the sweets and meat, less a little girl and more of a human trash compactor.

Chiaki ninja appears next to you and places a hand on your back. "Remember to chew, Young Mistress."

You have an entire shank of mutton in your mouth. You strip it to the bone and make a show of chewing 32 times before swallowing and two-handing slices of caramel apple pie. "Well if it isn't my lovely maid. Here to clean me up so I look presentable to mother?"

She puts a hand over her mouth to hide her giggle. "I'd need a hose for that, Young Mistress."

You inhale one of your pie slices, swipe your finger on some whipped frosting from one of your many cakes and squish it into Chiaki's cheek. "Take that!"

"And what was that for, Young Mistress?" Chiaki asks.

"Insulting your very cute and not at all messy ward," you say with a cheeky smile. "Also this cake is really good and I bet you're hungry."

She licks the frosting. "Wow, that is good!"

You hold up the rest of your cake for her. She takes it with a small curtsy and eats it with small, measured bites. She's the picture of poise, enough to make you self-conscious about the culinary massacre you've committed.

You restrain yourself enough to eat your other slice of pie like a woodchuck as your mother takes the center of the room. Her dress is the brilliant red and dazzling gold of the Claudius house colors, lain atop an unadorned gossamer toga that's almost translucent. Her lean muscle and statuesque figure beckon strength and beauty, as the overdress, done in the style of a military greatcoat, cloak her in authority. Epaullettes the color of wrought iron adorn crisply creased suit-cut shoulders. Half-petticoats, the same color of her toga, flare underneath the tails of her overdress down to her feet. From the side, she looks like she's striding on clouds.

She tosses her mane of hair, free and wild as the Nemean Lion, and begins to speak. "Friends, nobles, countrymen: lend me your ears. On this day, my daughter is to be betrothed to Prince Bryn Alteisen; a link in the chain that binds our nation together. Yet I ask you, has the ore of our children been refined enough for a truly strong bond? Have they truly undergone a crucible worthy of our great houses? I say thee nay!"

The nobles, choked by Justine's mere presence, find air enough to gasp.

"My daughter is a fine girl, but she needs tempering still. Prince Alteisen is a fine child, but he has not been tested. So temper them, we shall. Test them, we will. With the same fervor Sophia created our world, so too shall we create worthy successors. Then, and only then, shall we link them together."

Lord Alteisen, a man of grey beard and bulging muscles, rises from his seat in the audience. "Are you saying my boy is not worthy of the Alteisen name, Lady Claudius?!" His voice is thunder within the halls.

"On the Seven, I speak not. Both of our children are of the highest quality." She looks to Lord Alteisen. "But they are not yet masterworks. It would shame both our houses if we did not provide as such, no?"

Lord Alteisen grumbles. "You speak honeyed words, Crimson She-wolf. But they are truth. One must take their time to build worthwhile things. We shall delay the bethrotal until a more suitable time. What say you?"

"Acceptable," Justine says, rubbing her chin. "Once they have completed their education and become full fledged adults, they should be tempered enough. Is that acceptable?"

You see Prince Alteisen look to Lord Alteisen, then to Justine, then to you. His expression is neutral, but there's a look you can't place in his eyes.


You squint, monkey brain on overdrive. Is it hunger? Sadness? Sleepiness?

Sensible shotguns another can of beer and burps. "It's disappointment, monkey girl. He thinks you're interesting and wanted a chance to get closer."

<Emo>: "You shot down us going with the bethrotal though..."

<Sensible>: "My Villainess brain needed beer, okay? And Justine's already given us an out so it's cool!"

<Artsy>: "No mistakes, just happy accidents~"

Now that you really look at him, you can see the sneaky glances he's giving you. You also notice Bridgette staring a hole through him from behind Lord Alteisen.

"Your terms are acceptable, Crimson She-wolf," Lord Alteisen says, before pounding his table with a ham-sized fist. "However! It is tradition that we have our children show their mettle. We must see the quality of the base material."

"Fair enough," Justine says. "I believe the children should make the decision in this matter."

Lord Alteisen nods tersely. "Very well." He easily palms Prince Alteisen's head and shakes it like an arcade joystick. "Do the line proud, boy!"

Prince Alteisen gets shaken until he looks seasick. He composes himself, fixes his hair, and walks to the middle of the hall.

You scarf down some cake to carbload, wipe your mouth, and go to meet him. Justine's appraising eyes are on you, sending steel into your spine.


[What do you choose to show off?]
[ ] Your athletic skills
[ ] Your fighting skills
[ ] Your magic skills
[ ] Your painting skills
[ ] Your eating skills