The Villainess Wants to Resign From Love

Step one: survive the royal tea ceremony.
Step two: don't spill anything on myself, anyone else, or the entire palace.
Step three: pretend I'm not simultaneously dying of kilig overload.

HAHAHAHAHAHA.

The palace dining room was... gorgeous. Too gorgeous. Chandeliers reflecting sunlight like tiny spotlights highlighting my impending doom.

Seraphine Aurelia was already seated, sipping tea elegantly, as if she had invented grace itself.

Internal monologue: She's going to destroy me emotionally again. My heart: prepare for failure.

I attempted stealthy entry.

Internal monologue: No eye contact. No talking. No breathing too loudly.

Of course, Caelum spotted me immediately.

"Doctor Viera! Over here!"

Internal monologue: Why is he always here? WHY DOES HE EXIST?

Ronan, naturally, appeared on my other side, glowering in that "I silently hate everyone but especially you" way.

Internal monologue: THREE POINTS OF CHAOS. ALERT. HEART: CRITICAL.

I sat between them, trying to look professional.
Professional.
PROFESSIONAL.

Internal monologue: Step one: act normal. Step two: pretend your heart isn't doing gymnastics.

The first disaster: Caelum poured me tea.

"Careful," he said, smirking.

Internal monologue: Why does his smirk make me want to melt? DO NOT MELT. NOT IN PUBLIC.

I tried to take the cup elegantly. Missed slightly. Spilled a tiny drop. Onto the table. Onto my notes. Onto my dignity.

Internal monologue: KILL ME NOW.

Ronan's eyes flared. Jaw tightened. He didn't say anything, but I swear the entire room felt his simmering jealousy.

Internal monologue: I AM A FAILURE OF EXISTENCE.

Then Seraphine leaned over, smiling softly.

"Don't worry, Viera. Accidents happen. You're doing great."

Internal monologue: WHY DOES SHE HAVE TO BE SO NICE?! WHY DOES MY HEART MELT?!

I tried to respond with professional dignity.

"Uh... yes... science... very... professional..."

Caelum chuckled.
Ronan glared.
I wished I could disappear.

Second disaster: the sugar bowl.

I reached to stir my tea — and bumped Caelum's hand.
He laughed softly.
Ronan's hand twitched, reaching for the sugar bowl at the same time.

Internal monologue: THREE POINTS OF CONTACT AGAIN. ALERT. ALERT. HEART: FAILURE.

Seraphine quietly adjusted my napkin for me.

Internal monologue: I HATE YOU. I LOVE YOU. I AM DEAD.

Millie, hiding behind a curtain with a notebook, whispered gleefully:

"Phase nine: complete emotional collapse. Estimated survival: zero percent!"

By the time the scones were served, I had:

Accidentally brushed hands with Caelum four times.

Provoked Ronan's silent brooding.

Sat far too close to Seraphine while attempting to "adjust my posture."

Internal monologue: I AM DOOMED. ALL OF US ARE DOOMED.

Caelum leaned closer, whispering:

"You're adorable when flustered."

Internal monologue: DIE. DIE. DIE. HEART: EXPLODING.

Ronan's jaw flexed. His nostrils flared. I think he might have been about to growl.

Internal monologue: DO NOT NOTICE HIS JEALOUSY. DO NOT. MUST REMAIN PROFESSIONAL.

Seraphine smiled, as if she had no idea that two men were silently vying for my attention.

Internal monologue: WHY IS SHE SO PERFECT?! WHY DOES EVERYTHING SHE DO DESTROY ME?!

By the end of tea, the disasters included:

Tea spilled (mostly my fault).

Scones misappropriated (also my fault).

Heart palpitations at unsafe levels (definitely my fault).

Ronan's eyes found mine across the table. Brooding, jealous, dangerously intense.
Caelum grinned like the chaos was hilariously entertaining.
Seraphine... continued to radiate cinnamon-roll perfection.

Internal monologue: This is war. I am losing. I may never recover.