I Am The Villainess Who Will Tame Every Yandere Heroine!-Chapter 39: Love Is War

The morning unfurled in deceptive serenity. The sun cast golden ribbons through the open windows, dappling the wooden floors in a warm glow.

Birds trilled their cheerful songs outside, and a gentle breeze carried the scent of fresh earth and morning dew.

Serafine, in all her self-indulgent glory, reclined at the dining table, lazily stretching her arms above her head.

The warmth of the morning paired beautifully with the devoted attention of her two disciples - Clara and Mariella - who stood on either side of her, each vying for a moment of her favor.

Clara had taken the liberty of preparing tea, carefully pouring it into an ornate porcelain cup. "Lady Savior, I made this just for you," she declared, her eyes shining with an earnest eagerness. The scent of chamomile and honey wafted up, delicate and soothing.

Not to be outdone, Mariella flicked her wrist, elegantly setting down a plate of neatly arranged fruits. "And I've prepared a selection of the freshest fruits available. It's important to start the day with proper nutrition, after all." Her voice was sweet, but there was an unmistakable sharpness in her gaze as she glanced at Clara.

Serafine, naturally, basked in the attention like a spoiled queen. She propped her chin on her palm, a lazy, satisfied smile curling on her lips. "Ah, how wonderful it is to be adored…"

But, of course, peace was never meant to last.

The first sign of impending war was a quiet but unmistakable clink.

Clara had just placed a spoon beside Serafine's cup when Mariella, with the calculated nonchalance of a seasoned schemer, nudged it aside with her own hand and replaced it with a different, slightly fancier spoon, one with intricate gold engravings.

A charged silence fell between them.

"What do you think you're doing?" Clara asked, voice deceptively calm.

"Simply offering our dear Lady Savior the best."

Serafine, blissfully unaware - or perhaps fully aware and just enjoying the chaos - tilted her head. "Oh? Are we competing now?"

Clara's knuckles tightened around the teapot handle. "If I remember correctly, I made the tea."

"And yet, what is tea without the proper accompaniment? Surely, you don't expect Lady Savior to sip it with an ordinary spoon?"

The place trembled with unspoken fury, a charge of unseen lightning threading between them.

Outside, the birds' melodies died mid-note, as if nature itself dared not interrupt the brewing storm

A ghostly chill crept through the room, curling around the edges like the breath of an approaching tempest.

Then, all at once, war.

Clara lunged first, snatching back her original spoon and jamming it into Serafine's grasp. "She likes this one."

The other woman retaliated with ruthless efficiency, seizing Serafine's wrist and smoothly switching the spoon once again. "Don't worry, I'll make sure you have only the finest, my lady."

Serafine, watching the back-and-forth spoon battle like a particularly amusing duel, took a slow sip of tea and smirked. "Hmm… I wonder which one I actually prefer?"

Clara growled, tossing the spoon aside entirely. "Fine! Then let's see whose breakfast she actually enjoys more."

With that, she whirled toward the kitchen in a storm of determination, yanking open cabinets with the intensity of a woman about to prepare the meal of her life.

Mariella, ever the composed strategist, calmly adjusted her sleeves and followed, eyes gleaming with competitive fire. "Oh, you're on."

And thus began the Great Breakfast War of the Century.

Eggs were cracked with such force that the yolks trembled in fear. Flour dusted the air like an ominous battlefield fog. Spatulas clashed midair in heated duels. The sound of aggressive vegetable chopping filled the room, each knife strike carrying unspoken declarations of supremacy.

"Lady Savior prefers her toast golden and crispy," Clara declared, her voice nearly drowned out by the sizzle of butter in the pan.

Mariella scoffed, effortlessly peeling an apple with the precision of a trained assassin. "And yet, she always enjoys my meals more."

Serafine, who had settled into a seat with the enthusiasm of a noblewoman watching gladiators fight to the death, grinned. "This is getting interesting."

By the time the food was presented, the table had become a battlefield.

On one side: Clara's hearty breakfast—perfectly cooked eggs, crisp toast, and a carefully crafted fruit parfait.

On the other: Mariella's refined spread—delicate pastries, elegantly plated fresh fruit, and an omelet folded with near-mystical precision.

Serafine rested her chin on her hands, lips curling into a smug smile. "Oh, what a dilemma… who should I choose?"

Clara and Mariella turned to her, eyes blazing with barely restrained yandere fervor.

"Pick mine," Clara said, voice edged with an uncharacteristic threat.

Mariella leaned in, her tone just as dangerously soft. "No, mine."

A single bead of sweat rolled down Serafine's temple.

She was so going to die at this rate.

"Oh, how about I just—"

Before she could finish, Clara grabbed a forkful of food and practically shoved it into Serafine's mouth.

"Eat!"

Mariella was not to be outdone. She immediately followed, bringing a spoon of her own dish up to Serafine's lips. "Now, try this."

Serafine, forced into the unfortunate role of food hostage, chewed slowly. "Mmph… well…"

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The room grew eerily still as the two disciples awaited judgment.

Serafine licked her lips. "Hmm… both are good."

Clara's eye twitched. "That's not an answer."

Mariella narrowed her eyes. "You're avoiding the question."

Serafine, self-preservation instincts kicking in, immediately stood up. "Oh, would you look at that? The sun is so bright today! I think I'll take a walk—"

A hand grabbed her wrist.

Two hands, actually.

She slowly turned to see both Clara and Mariella gripping her tightly, their smiles far too sharp, their eyes far too unreadable.

"You're not going anywhere," Clara purred.

Mariella chuckled darkly. "Not until you choose."

Serafine gulped.

And thus, breakfast became a hostage negotiation.

All because she couldn't keep her playgirl tendencies in check.

And that was just the morning.

Who knew what fresh chaos awaited in the rest of the day?