A Guide to Raising a Villainess-Chapter 115: Chess

Unexpectedly, our conversation with Richard took a slightly different turn than I had anticipated. A breeze from the lake gently rustled the leaves of the trees along the shore, and I felt my heart skip a beat, as if sensing something unexpected.

No, I was indeed somewhat taken aback. Why did he bring this up now? What other "connection" was he referring to?

For a moment, I frowned, slightly puzzled. It all sounded too ambiguous, especially given the circumstances. We had only met recently, and since then, it seemed unlikely that anything more than formal communication had developed between us.

I glanced at Richard, but he looked completely calm, as if he hadn’t noticed my confusion. His golden eyes, illuminated by the sun’s glare, seemed too serious for any of this to be considered a joke. 𝗳𝚛𝗲𝕖𝚠𝚎𝚋𝗻𝗼𝕧𝗲𝐥.𝚌𝚘𝐦

My thoughts were racing like a boat on the waves, and I didn’t know what to say next.

In fact, I really didn’t expect to ever find myself in a situation like this with the heroine’s love interest. Everything that was happening seemed a little... unbelievable.

Besides, this was the first time I had not only met a love interest, but also interacted with him so closely. And in fact, it made me feel conflicted.

I should have been thrilled, right? I had the opportunity to interact with a character I had only seen on screen before. For any player, that would probably be a real miracle.

But perhaps because Richard was never really my favorite character in the game, I didn’t feel anything like that. Yes, he was certainly one of the central love interests, and he looked like the embodiment of the ideal — but perhaps that was what made him less interesting in my eyes.

The emperor’s nephew seemed perfect in every way. Impeccable in his manners, noble in his actions, intelligent, cool-headed, and at the same time gentle enough to be likable. He possessed that rare combination of dignity and kindness that made everyone around him feel drawn to him.

And, of course, there was his appearance — that flawless image that seemed to have come straight out of a glossy magazine. It was impossible not to notice him, even if you really wanted to.

In the game, their love story with the heroine was considered the most "peaceful." No sudden twists, no drama or passion, no desperate confessions on the brink of life and death. From the very beginning, Richard treated Angela with interest and warmth, and their relationship developed calmly and gradually.

And yet, strange as it may seem, it was this very perfection that caused me a vague feeling of rejection.

Richard de Stone was too right. Too perfect. Too... unreal.

Wasn’t this guy too good to exist in real life?

In his presence, I felt a slight awkwardness, as if I were standing in front of a carefully written script where every word and movement had been rehearsed in advance. And perhaps that was what bothered me the most — after all, people in real life are rarely so flawless.

Precisely because his personality seemed so unrealistic for the real world, I never felt any real interest in Richard. In my eyes, he always remained just a fictional character — a skillfully created character, the embodiment of an ideal, assembled from templates to satisfy the players.

Compared to him, the heroine’s mentor or the archmage seemed much more "real" characters. Each of them had their own contradictions, internal conflicts, mistakes, and regrets. They didn’t always do the right thing, but perhaps that’s what made them more real.

"What connection are you talking about?" I finally asked, unable to bear the silence any longer.

At that moment, Richard turned to me and froze.

He seemed to be just as confused as I was.

"I’m sorry," he said softly, "I was just thinking out loud. Don’t take it too seriously."

At that moment, Richard looked at me distractedly and smiled.

I also felt a little awkward.

In the end, we spent the rest of the walk in silence.

And then I noticed that we were approaching something.

In the middle of the lake, as if hidden among the calm waters, was a small island. And in the very center of the island stood a neat, well-kept structure — a small gazebo with carved columns and a light-colored roof entwined with climbing plants.

With each passing minute, the outlines of the island became clearer, and soon I realized that this was where we were headed.

The boat slowly slowed down, gliding obediently toward the wooden pier. Water splashed against the side of the boat as Richard stood up to tie the rope to the post. His movements were precise and confident.

I, on the other hand, hesitated for a moment before carefully stepping onto the wooden planks of the dock. They creaked softly underfoot, but were sturdy enough to support both of us.

"Be careful," Richard warned, offering me his hand.

"Thank you," I nodded slightly and took it, feeling the slight warmth of his palm.

Soon we both stepped onto the island, and the prince walked ahead, while I followed slightly behind. A narrow path paved with light-colored stone led straight to a gazebo, and as we approached, I noticed that inside there was a round table covered with a thin linen tablecloth, and next to it were several chairs neatly arranged facing each other.

Judging by all appearances, this place was intended for relaxation — quiet and secluded. Cicadas sang all around, and golden glints shimmered on the surface of the water, as if dancing in the sunlight.

I couldn’t help but linger on this landscape, feeling a strange calm, as if this place itself had been torn from another, more peaceful reality.

At that moment, Richard spoke, addressing me:

"Since we have a little time, perhaps you would agree to spend it on something less formal?

I looked at him blankly.

"What do you mean, Your Highness?"

"How about a game of chess?" he suggested with a slight smile.

"Chess?" I repeated, unable to hide my slight surprise.

As we approached the gazebo, I finally noticed that there was indeed a chessboard on the table. The white and black pieces were neatly arranged in their places, as if they were just waiting for us to arrive.

When I came closer, the prince gestured for me to take a seat.

"Do you know how to play?"

he asked, sitting down opposite me.

I thought for a moment.

"Do I know how to play chess...?" I repeated mechanically to myself, looking at the pieces arranged in front of me.

If it were me — my real personality from my former world — the answer would be obvious: no. The most I knew about chess was what it looked like. But now everything was different.

As soon as I concentrated for a moment, long-forgotten images began to surface from the depths of Grace’s memory. A quiet living room, the dim light of the fireplace, and a man’s patient voice.

Yes... I could vaguely remember something.

To be precise, Grace’s father, Duke Harris Weinstein, had once taught his daughter to play chess. He was a very good player, and he had also taught his daughter a few things. Now I remembered that.

"Yes," I replied after a short pause. "My father taught me when I was a child. It’s been a long time since then, though."

"Then perhaps it’s time to refresh your memory," the prince replied with a slight smile.

I hesitated for a moment, not entirely sure it was a good idea, but at the same time finding no reason to refuse.

"All right," I finally said, nodding slightly.

In the end, we did sit down to play chess together.

The game began calmly.

I watched Richard’s every move, trying to remember the logic and tactics my father had once explained to me. At first, I thought I was about to make a mistake and lose. But as the game went on, I began to feel old memories gradually coming back to me.

And, without realizing it, I really did start to play almost instinctively.

Richard played confidently and seemed to enjoy the process of playing. His gaze was calm but attentive, as if he were studying not only the placement of the pieces but also my reactions.

"You’re doing quite well," he remarked after a while, moving his rook.

"Your Highness, you flatter me," I replied, making my move. "I’m just lucky."

He smiled quietly.

"Luck is rarely a decisive factor in chess, Lady Weinstein."

A few more minutes passed, and the game was coming to an end.

I watched the board closely, calculating every possible move, and finally made my last move.

"Checkmate," I said, a little surprised myself.

The prince looked at the board, then at me. A slight, almost weightless smile appeared on his lips.

"I admit, Lady Weinstein," he said with a quiet chuckle, "this is the first time, apart from His Majesty, that someone has beaten me."