My Step-Daughters Are The Villainesses

"Big sister."

A small hand shook Hermione’s shoulder.

"Big sister!"

"Hmngh..." Hermione groaned, burying her face deeper into the feather pillow. She fluttered her eyes open just enough to see the gray light of dawn creeping through the curtains.

"Wake up, big sister!"

"W—what is it, Esther? Let me sleep..." Hermione grumbled under her breath. She shifted her weight, turning her back to the younger girl and pulling the thick, embroidered quilt over her head.

"But I heard strange sounds from Lord Ulrich’s quarters in the night..." Esther muttered, her voice trembling slightly.

Hermione’s eyes snapped open.

In an instant, she threw off the quilt and bolted upright, her silver hair messed wildly around her shoulders. She grabbed Esther by the shoulders, shaking the younger girl back and forth in a sudden panic. "W—what were you doing near Ulrich’s chambers in the middle of the night?! He didn’t do anything weird, did he? Nothing happened, right?!"

"B—big sister, stop!" Esther whined, her cheeks flushing a deep, embarrassed crimson. She pried Hermione’s hands off her shoulders, sulking.

Hermione let out a long sigh, the tension rapidly draining from her spine. She slumped back against the headboard. "Alright. Nothing happened. Good... I was so worried."

"Geez, big sister, you worry over nothing. I did not sleep in Lord Ulrich’s bed," Esther protested, still blushing.

"Esther!" Hermione gasped, scandalized.

"I prefer sleeping beside you and Eldest Sister," Esther added, beaming a bright innocent smile that crinkled her eyes.

Hermione looked at that pure expression and felt her panic entirely melt away. She reached out and pulled the younger girl into a hug. "You silly girl."

Esther giggled, wrapping her small arms around Hermione’s waist.

"Still," Hermione frowned, pulling back just enough to look Esther in the eyes, "that does not explain what you were doing wandering the corridors in the dark."

"I just needed to use the restroom, big sister. And when I walked out into the hall, I heard weird noises echoing from Lord Ulrich’s wing. It sounded like... it felt like someone was screaming," Esther said as she recalled the muffled sounds.

"Screaming?" Hermione asked, one silver brow arching in confusion.

"Hm!" Esther nodded emphatically. "I wanted to go and see if they were alright, but the shadows were too scary. Do you think someone was wounded?"

"Someone screaming in Ulrich’s room?" Hermione pondered, her brows creasing as her mind raced. In the dead of night?

Suddenly, her eyes widened in shock as a horrifying theory bloomed in her mind. "Don’t tell me...!"

"Tell you what, big sister?" Esther asked, leaning in.

"D—Did he finally kill Monika?" Hermione whispered, her voice tinged with dread.

"W—what?!" Esther recoiled, horrified. "Lord Ulrich would never do such a thing!"

"You have a far too bright image of him, Esther. I know the truth about what kind of man he is," Hermione insisted darkly.

"What truth...?" Esther asked, her curiosity now warring with her fear.

Hermione fell silent for a moment, her mind flashing back to a memory from two years ago.

She had not seen the blood, but she had heard it. She remembered cowering in the shadows, listening to the ruthlessness with which Ulrich had dealt with the people who had dared intrude upon the estate. Despite the intruder’s cries, he had not hesitated for a single second. Hermione didn’t blame him for defending his home, of course, but that night had branded a terrifying truth into her mind: Ulrich was a man who would eliminate anyone who crossed him without a second thought.

As for why she suspected poor Monika might have met the end of his blade? The personal maid of Ulrich had been acting strangely for days. Recently, Monika had taken to muttering tearfully in the laundry rooms that the Count had "had enough of her" or that "it was over for her".

In reality, Monika was merely lamenting that Ulrich kept assigning her to look after the three sisters, leaving her less time to serve directly at his side. But to Hermione’s overactive, paranoid imagination, those sad mutters had clearly meant Ulrich was growing tired of the maid and preparing to permanently ’throw her away’.

Looking down at Esther’s trembling, wide-eyed expression, Hermione could not find the courage to describe the gruesome slaughter she had witnessed two years ago. Esther was far too innocent for such dark truths, and there had been extenuating circumstances to the Count’s violence anyway. Instead, Hermione opted for a more mundane excuse to explain the imaginary murder.

"Well, he demands perfection in all things," Hermione said with a dismissive wave of her hand. "Monika likely just blundered her duties."

"Monika never blunders!" Esther protested, shaking her head so vehemently her soft curls bounced around her shoulders. "She is the best maid in the estate!"

"Even the finest maid in Skargardia might not be enough for Ulrich’s impossible standards," Hermione countered with a careless shrug. "He probably struck her down for spilling his wine and tossed her body straight out the window."

"D—Don’t say such terrifying things, big sister!" Esther wailed, her lower lip trembling as sudden tears welled in her eyes.

Realizing she had pushed the jest too far, Hermione released a guilty sigh. "Oh, by the gods, I am only teasing, Esther. Stop crying."

"I will go and see for myself!" Esther declared. Before Hermione could stop her, the younger girl scrambled off the mattress, her bare feet hitting the cold floorboards as she sprinted for the bedroom door.

"Wait, Esther!" Hermione called, leaping from the bed and chasing swiftly after her.

They both spilled out into the corridor, but their rush ended the moment they stepped past the threshold. They froze in unison, their eyes drawn down the length of the hall toward the master wing. Standing directly in front of Ulrich’s door was the very maid in question.

"Do you see? Stop your crying, Monika is perfectly fine," Hermione whispered, gently grasping Esther’s shoulder.

"Yes..." Esther nodded, though she pouted slightly, clearly still nursing her grievances over her elder sister’s cruel teasing.

Their hushed bickering ceased entirely as the door to the master chambers swung inward. Ulrich appeared at the threshold as always, all ready and wearing perfectly tailored clothes as if he had worn them since his birth.

"Prepare a bath for her, and see to her morning care," Ulrich said then to Monika, who seemed bewildered. "She will require a new gown as well. Have the servants bring something suitable for her."

Monika stood frozen, her jaw hanging slack as she stared past her master into the shadowed room.

"You heard me," Ulrich said, his tone sharpening with an edge of impatience.

The icy reprimand broke Monika from her stupor. She snapped her mouth shut and nodded her head with terrified vigor. "Y—yes, my Lord! At once!"

Ulrich did not linger to explain himself. He stepped past the flustered maid and strode down the opposite end of the corridor, his boots echoing softly against the stone.

"Good morning. You must be Lord Rubenhart’s personal maid?"

A smooth, feminine voice drifted out from the depths of Ulrich’s private chambers then. Both Hermione and Esther stiffened, their eyes widening to the size of saucers. It was definitely Meera’s voice.

A moment later, the beautiful, blue-haired woman stepped into the doorway. She was wrapped in one of Ulrich’s silken bedsheets, the fine white linen gathered loosely over her bare shoulders and trailing against the floorboards. She offered the reeling, red-faced Monika a languid, wildly satisfied smile.

Down the hall, the two sisters stood paralyzed. Hermione’s mind raced backward, suddenly connecting Esther’s innocent account of late-night ’screaming’ with the sight of the brazen, half-naked woman lounging in Ulrich’s doorway. Both sisters’ jaws dropped in synchronized shock.