Page 117 of The Villainess Chose Naps Over Death Flags

The stain-resistant potion appeared in her hand—a small crystal vial filled with shimmering powder. Two hundred and fifty gold crowns for this. It had better work.

Carol uncorked the stopper and carefully sprinkled the powder over her gown.

For a moment, the fabric shimmered with an iridescent glow. Then the light faded, and the dress looked completely normal again.

"Well," Carol said to the empty room. "I guess we'll find out if it works."

She corked the vial and returned it to her inventory. The interface confirmed: STAIN-RESISTANT POTION - 7 HOURS, 59 MINUTES REMAINING.

Good. The banquet would last maybe four or five hours. She'd have plenty of protection.

Carol took a deep breath, smoothing her skirts.

Time to say goodbye to her pets.

Mochi and Shadow were curled up together on their cushions, watching her with intelligent eyes.

"I'm sorry you can't come," Carol said, kneeling carefully to avoid wrinkling her gown. "But you'd still frighten the guests."

Shadow whined softly, his tail drooping.

"I know, I know," Carol said, scratching behind his ears. "You're nearly twice the size you were when we met. And Mochi, you're nearly three feet long. People would panic."

Mochi meowed, butting his head against her hand.

"I'll tell you all about it when I get back," Carol promised. "And tomorrow we'll play all day. But tonight, you both need to stay here and be good."

Shadow licked her hand. Mochi purred.

"Good boys," Carol whispered, kissing both their heads. "I love you."

She stood, straightening her gown, and took one last look in the mirror.

Ready or not, it was time.

◆◆◆

Caspian was waiting for her in the corridor outside her chambers.

Carol stopped when she saw him, her breath catching.

He looked magnificent. His formal attire was all black and silver—perfectly tailored, emphasizing his broad shoulders and lean frame. His silver hair was pulled back, revealing the strong lines of his face. And there, resting against his chest, the emerald pendant gleamed softly.

He was wearing her gift.

"Caroline," Caspian said, his voice quiet. "You look..."

"Like a duchess?" Carol asked, trying for levity.

"Like my wife," Caspian corrected, and the warmth in his eyes made her heart race.

He offered his arm, and Carol took it, feeling the solid strength beneath the fabric.

"Ready?" he asked.

"No," Carol admitted. "But let's do this anyway."

They walked together toward the family receiving room where Caspian's parents were waiting.