Page 14 of The Villainess Chose Naps Over Death Flags

"I threw a plate at you last week," Carol said. "Because the soup was too cold. That was unacceptable behavior, and I'm deeply sorry. You work hard to prepare excellent meals, and you didn't deserve that."

The cook's mouth opened and closed several times. Around them, the other kitchen staff were frozen in shock.

"I... Your Grace, I..." The cook's eyes were actually tearing up. "Thank you. I... thank you."

"You're welcome," Carol said. "And I'd love to have whatever you're preparing for lunch today, if that's alright. It smells wonderful."

She left the kitchen to stunned silence, with Daisy and Millie hurrying to keep up.

"My lady," Millie said quietly once they were out of earshot. "What's happened to you?"

Carol glanced at her. "What do you mean?"

"You've been so unhappy since coming here," Millie said, her voice barely above a whisper. "Crying, throwing things, locked in your rooms. And now you're... different."

"I decided I was tired of being miserable," Carol said simply. It was even true, in a way. "Life is too short to spend it angry at everyone."

Especially when being angry is going to get me executed in little over a year, she added silently.

They continued through the estate—the library (gorgeous, clearly unused by Original Caroline), the parlor (elegant and cold), the various sitting rooms (all immaculate and empty). Every room was beautiful, expensive, and utterly devoid of warmth.

Finally, they stepped outside into the gardens.

Carol gasped.

They were even more beautiful up close than they'd been from her window. Spring flowers bloomed in glorious profusion—roses in every color, dahlias as big as dinner plates, lavender filling the air with its scent. Stone pathways wound through perfectly manicured hedges, and the fountain she'd seen from her window sparkled in the sunlight.

"This is incredible," Carol breathed.

"His Grace employs the best gardeners in the kingdom," Daisy said. "He wanted you to have beautiful views from your chambers."

Another gift. Another attempt to make her comfortable while keeping her at arm's length.

Carol was starting to understand Caspian Vanthorn a bit better. He was a man who'd been trapped in a marriage he didn't want, with a woman who'd been obsessed with someone else and made his life miserable at every turn. So he'd given her everything material she could want and simply... removed himself from the equation.

It was practical. It was sad. And it was about to change.

"The training grounds are this way, my lady," Millie said, gesturing to a path that led around the side of the estate.

Carol's heart rate picked up. "Lead the way."

As they walked, she could hear sounds in the distance—the clash of steel, shouted commands, the organized chaos of military training. They rounded a corner, and the training grounds came into view.

It was a large open area with a packed dirt floor, surrounded by a low stone wall. Racks of weapons lined one side—swords, spears, bows. Training dummies stood at attention. And in the center, a group of men in light armor were engaged in combat drills.

Carol scanned the training ground, looking for—

Original Caroline's memories supplied the answer before she could finish the thought. There. The man in the center with silver hair, sparring with another man.

Her husband.

Caspian Vanthorn was... breathtaking.

Tall—easily over six feet—with broad shoulders and a warrior's build that spoke of years of training. His silver hair was pulled back in a low tie, the length falling just past his shoulders, though a few strands had escaped to frame the sharp lines of his face. Even from this distance, Carol could see the focused intensity in his green eyes.

He moved like water and lightning combined—fluid grace one moment, explosive power the next. His sword flashed in the sun as he drove his opponent back, then spun away from a counterattack with casual ease. His shirt was unlaced at the neck and damp with sweat, clinging to his chest and shoulders in a way that made Carol's mouth go dry.

"Oh no," she whispered.