I'm the Villain, But the Heroines Keep Choosing Me-Chapter 79: Shared Ground I

The week following their agreement had been an exercise in controlled awkwardness.

Seria came to the estate every other evening, as scheduled. She and Damien would work together – reviewing demon activity reports, coordinating guard operations, building the tactical partnership that had brought them together. Then, carefully, they’d work on the anchor bond – small touches, brief moments of intimacy, learning each other.

On alternate evenings, Elara had her time. The established rhythm of their deeper connection, the intimacy born from months of shared history.

It was working. Technically.

But there was a careful distance between the two women that felt increasingly artificial. Polite acknowledgment when their schedules overlapped. Professional courtesy. No actual connection beyond their shared attachment to Damien.

Tonight was different.

Damien had been called to an emergency council meeting – something about demon activity in the northern territories requiring noble house coordination. He’d left hours ago, promising to return by midnight.

Which meant both women were in the estate. At the same time. Without him as buffer.

Seria sat in the library, reviewing tactical maps because avoiding Elara felt cowardly but seeking her out felt presumptuous.

The door opened. Elara entered, saw Seria, and paused.

"Oh. I didn’t realize you were – I can come back – "

"No, it’s fine. I was just working." Seria gestured to the empty seats. "The library’s big enough for both of us."

Elara settled into a chair across the reading table, pulled out Church reform documents, and they worked in careful silence.

Five minutes passed.

Ten.

Fifteen.

"This is ridiculous," Elara said finally, setting down her papers. "We’re both adults. We’ve agreed to share him. We should be able to have a conversation without it being awkward."

"Should be, yes." Seria didn’t look up from her maps. "Practice is proving more difficult than theory."

"Because we’re trying too hard to be professional about something inherently personal." Elara stood, moving to look at Seria’s tactical maps. "What are you working on?"

"Demon attack patterns. Trying to predict next probable target." Seria pointed to marked locations. "They’re moving in tightening spiral. Each attack tests different defensive capabilities. It’s systematic intelligence gathering."

"For what purpose?"

"That’s what I’m trying to determine. Best guess? Preparation for major assault. They’re cataloging our strengths and weaknesses before committing to full offensive."

Elara studied the maps with surprising tactical insight. "If they’re gathering intelligence, they need time to analyze and adapt. How long between major attacks?"

"Average eight days. Last major engagement was six days ago."

"So we have roughly two days before the next one." Elara traced potential targets. "These three locations would give them maximum intelligence with minimum exposure. If I were planning the attack, I’d hit one of these."

Seria looked at her with new respect. "That’s solid analysis. I didn’t know you had tactical training."

"I don’t. But I’ve been managing Church reform against entrenched opposition for enough time now. That requires understanding your enemy’s strategy, predicting their moves, positioning your resources effectively." Elara smiled slightly. "Apparently those skills transfer."

"Political warfare and actual warfare have surprising overlap." Seria found herself relaxing slightly. "Which of the three would you prioritize for defense?"

They spent the next hour discussing tactics, and Seria discovered Elara had sharp strategic mind beneath the holy exterior. The Saintess approached problems from different angle than military training provided, but her insights were valuable.

"You’re good at this," Seria admitted. "Reading patterns, predicting behavior. Have you considered offering tactical consulting to the guard?"

"I’m too busy reforming an entire religious institution." But Elara looked pleased by the compliment. "Besides, the guard probably wouldn’t appreciate the Saintess telling them how to fight."

"The guard is understaffed, overwhelmed, and desperate for any competent assistance. Trust me, they’d take help from anyone useful."

They fell into comfortable silence again, but this time it felt less awkward. More like colleagues working together than rivals maintaining careful distance.

Margaret appeared with tea and knowing expression. "I thought you ladies might want refreshment. Working late, both of you."

"Thank you, Margaret." Elara accepted the tea gratefully.

After the housekeeper left, Seria voiced the thought that had been nagging her. "Does it bother you? That I’m here when he’s not?"

Elara was quiet for a moment. "Honestly? Part of me wants to say yes. That you’re invading my space, taking time that should be mine. But – " She sipped her tea thoughtfully. " – the rational part knows that’s childish. This is his home, not mine exclusively. And you have as much right to be here as I do."

"But emotionally?"

"Emotionally it’s complicated. I’m working on it." She met Seria’s eyes. "Are you bothered by my presence?"

"I feel like I’m intruding on established relationship. Like I’m the addition that’s disrupting what you two had." Seria admitted. "Which makes me defensive, which makes me distant, which makes this whole thing more awkward than it needs to be."

"So we’re both uncomfortable and handling it by avoiding each other."

"Apparently."

"That’s not sustainable." Elara set down her tea with decision. "We need to actually know each other. Not just coordinates schedules and maintain polite distance. Actually understand each other as people."

"I agree in theory. Less certain about practice."

"Then let’s practice now. Damien won’t be back for hours. We have time." Elara’s expression was determined despite obvious nervousness. "Ask me something. Anything you’ve wondered about but been too polite to ask."

Seria considered, then went for the direct approach that was her nature. "Do you resent me? Really, underneath the rational acceptance?"

"Sometimes." Elara’s honesty was immediate. "When he talks about you with that respect in his voice. When I see you two working together with that easy partnership. When I remember that your connection is built on competence and shared burden while mine started with him literally orchestrating my rescue. Sometimes I wonder if what you have with him is more genuine than what I have."

"That’s – " Seria felt something shift in her chest. " – I had no idea you felt that way."

"Why would you? We’ve been maintaining careful professional distance." Elara’s smile was sad. "But you asked for honesty. That’s honest. I’m sometimes jealous of the respect he has for your competence, because I wonder if he sees me as the idealistic Saintess he freed rather than truly equal partner."

"He doesn’t see you that way. I’ve watched him with you. He looks at you like you hung the stars."

"And he looks at you like you’re the most competent person he’s ever met. Different kinds of admiration, both valuable." Elara leaned forward. "Your turn. What do you wonder about me?"

Seria took a breath. "Are you afraid I’ll take him from you? That he’ll prefer me?"

"Terrified. Constantly." Elara’s voice was steady despite the admission. "You’re everything I’m not – practical, tactical, professionally accomplished. You’ve earned your position through merit while I was elevated through circumstance and divine favor. He needs someone like you. What if he realizes he doesn’t need someone like me?"

"That’s absurd. You’re the High Priestess. You’re reforming the entire Church structure. You freed yourself from institutional control and helped him stay human when no one else could. That’s not circumstance – that’s strength, beyond any I have ever seen."

"See, that’s – " Elara gestured between them. " – that’s what we should be doing. Reminding each other of our value instead of competing for it. We’re on the same side here."

"Are we?" Seria heard the doubt in her own voice. "Or are we just pretending to be on the same side while secretly hoping the other fails?"

Elara was quiet for a long moment. Then: "I don’t want you to fail. Genuinely. Because if you fail as an anchor, Damien loses himself to corruption. And I love him too much to want that, even if it means sharing him with you."

The simple sincerity of it hit Seria hard.

"I don’t want you to fail either," she admitted. "Not just because he needs you, but because – you’re good. Kind. Stronger than you think. And I respect that, even while I’m jealous of what you have with him."

"So we’re both jealous and both want the other to succeed."

"Apparently."

"That’s healthier than I expected." Elara laughed slightly. "Maybe we’re not as doomed as this situation suggests."

They worked in comfortable silence for a while longer, the awkwardness substantially reduced.

Then Elara spoke again, softer. "Can I ask you something more personal?"

"Go ahead."