The Villain Professor's Second Chance

She had lost four times in a row. Each time, she thought she was on the cusp of victory, only to have Draven dismantle her strategy as if he were peeling the skin off a fruit—smoothly and with no wasted movement. This was supposed to be her time. She had been certain she was going to win, her eyes catching every trap he laid, her mind seeing three moves ahead.

But that sensation, that feeling as if victory was being ripped away right when it seemed closest, it lingered and made her grind her teeth. She clicked her tongue, frustrated, glaring across the table at Draven.

"This bastard," she muttered under her breath. "He's just making me think I'm going to win and then snatching it away. It's infuriating."

She was about to lash out at him—something along the lines of, "Hey, you smug bastard, stop playing with me like a cat with a mouse!"—but she stopped. Her eyes caught his face, and she paused. Draven was entirely focused. His eyes, usually cold and impassive, were narrowed in deep concentration, his brow furrowed.

A bead of sweat rolled down his temple, and for once, his lips were pressed into a thin, tight line. He was... struggling? No, not struggling—just concentrating, seriously.

Aurelia blinked, her gaze softening for a split second before she realized that she, too, was sweating. Her fingers hovered above a stone, trembling slightly as she tried to suppress her breathing, keeping her composure steady. Her eyes moved back to Draven's face, watching him as he concentrated on the board.

Was he really not underestimating her? All this time, she had thought he was holding back, letting her think she had a chance, only to dash her hopes in the end. But now, looking at him, she saw something different. The focus, the concentration, the slight tremor in his hand as he reached for his next move—it was all genuine. He wasn't underestimating her, nor was he mocking her.

He was putting everything into this match.

Draven's eyes flicked to her for a brief moment, a fleeting glance that seemed to measure her next move, and then he turned his focus back to the board. He placed his next stone, the soft clink echoing between them. It was a subtle move, but it sealed her options once more, redirecting her attempts to trap him back into a series of dead ends.

Aurelia took a deep breath, her eyes falling back onto the board. She would not be swayed, not this time. She took another look at the mess of black and white, and she understood that it was not just a game anymore—it was an outright clash of wills. She knew Draven's strategy was a step ahead of her, but she was ready to dive back in. She let herself drown in the intricacies of the board.

Slowly, the world around them seemed to fade away—the maids, the guards at the edge of the room, the crackling fireplace. All that mattered was the grid of the Go board, the stones, and the silent battle that played out between them, move by move.

Aurelia's fingers moved over her stones, her eyes scrutinizing every possible scenario. She imagined every outcome, weighing every risk and potential reward. The air between them grew tense, heavy with expectation and the weight of decisions yet to be made.

Time seemed to slow as the game progressed. Stone after stone, Draven placed his pieces with cold precision. Every time she countered, he adjusted, creating decoy after decoy, laying out traps that forced her to shift her focus, to adjust her strategy. It was a maddening back and forth, like a dance where Draven was leading, but only just barely.

She tried to predict his next move, to find the flaw in his perfect execution, but each time she thought she saw a weakness, it vanished, covered by another layer of complexity.

She wasn't just losing; she was being led into a loss, gracefully, almost as if he was pulling her along, letting her think she had a say in how things would end, only for him to reveal that he had been in control the entire time. She couldn't deny the skill—the absolute mastery he had over this game. It was infuriating. It was impressive. And, strangely, it was exhilarating.

Aurelia looked up at Draven, her eyes narrowing at his composed face, his calm, methodical movements. His focus was absolute, his concentration unyielding. And then, for some inexplicable reason, her heart skipped a beat. She blinked, feeling the sudden surge in her chest, the warmth that spread across her skin. What was this feeling?

Her breath hitched, and she tried to regain control of herself. Her gaze fell back to the board, her fingers tracing over her next move, but her mind kept wandering back to his face—his expression, his intensity. Thump. Her heartbeat echoed in her ears, louder now, more insistent.

"What is this?" she muttered under her breath, frowning at herself. She clenched her jaw, her fingers hovering above the board. She shook her head slightly, trying to dismiss the strange sensation. And then, it hit her.

"Ah..." she breathed, her lips curling into a smirk. "This is excitement."

It was that same feeling she had when she was first learning magic, back when her father had pushed her beyond her limits, challenging her to be better, to understand more, to reach heights that no one else could. It was the thrill of being challenged, of knowing that there was someone in front of her who could push her, someone who wouldn't just hand her the victory. Draven wasn't holding back.

He wasn't treating her like a queen who needed coddling or like a lazy student who was beneath his level. He was treating her like a worthy opponent, and that realization was electrifying.

Aurelia placed her next stone, her eyes blazing with determination. The game continued, and she fought with everything she had, her mind racing, her heart pounding as she tried to keep up with Draven's relentless strategy. But in the end, it wasn't enough. Draven's final move clicked into place, sealing her fate, and she knew—once again, she had lost.

She let out a long breath, her shoulders slumping slightly as she leaned back in her chair, her eyes still on the board. It was over. She had been defeated. Again. But this time, the loss didn't sting as much as it had before. This time, there was something else—a sense of satisfaction, of having given it her all, of having been challenged in a way that she hadn't been in years.

Draven looked up, his cold eyes meeting hers, and for a moment, they simply stared at each other. Aurelia's lips curved into a smirk, and she shook her head slightly.

"This is my loss again," she said, her voice carrying a mix of frustration and amusement. She leaned forward, resting her elbows on the table, her eyes never leaving his. "Seriously, you never stop making me interested. You never stop making me excited."

Draven studied her for a moment, then closed his eyes, taking a deep, steadying breath. He exhaled slowly, his posture relaxing as he leaned back in his chair. "Then it is my win, Your Majesty," he said, his voice calm, composed. He opened his eyes, and there was a faint glimmer of something in his gaze—something almost like respect. "The next lecture will be a complete course, as per our agreement.

I look forward to working with you again."

Aurelia raised an eyebrow, a grin spreading across her face. "A complete course, huh?" she repeated, her voice filled with challenge. "You think you can handle me for that long, Draven?"

He didn't flinch, his gaze steady. "I believe that you will be the one needing to keep up, Your Majesty," he replied, his tone cool, yet carrying a hint of a smirk.

Aurelia laughed, a genuine, full-bodied laugh that echoed through the room. The maids and guards who had been silently watching the entire time exchanged nervous glances, clearly unsure of what to make of the scene. The queen's laughter was a rare sound, something they had not heard in quite a while.

"You're a bastard, you know that?" Aurelia said, her eyes still locked on Draven, her smirk never fading. "But maybe that's exactly what I need."

Draven inclined his head slightly, acknowledging her words without losing his composure. "If being a 'bastard' is what it takes to teach you, then so be it, Your Majesty."

Aurelia shook her head, her grin widening. She pushed herself up from her chair, her hands resting on the edge of the table as she looked down at him. "Fine then. Let's keep going. Let's see how far you can push me."

Draven stood as well, his eyes meeting hers, his expression as unreadable as ever. "I will push you as far as you are willing to go," he said, his voice steady. "That is my duty as your instructor."

Aurelia tilted her head slightly, studying him for a moment before nodding. "Good. Because I don't intend to stop until I reach the top."

Draven nodded in return, a faint smile tugging at his lips. "I would expect nothing less, Your Majesty."

They stood there for a moment longer, the tension between them shifting—no longer the tension of opponents but something else, something that spoke of mutual respect, of a shared understanding. Then, Aurelia turned, her platinum blonde hair swaying as she moved, her voice echoing through the room as she called over her shoulder.

"Let's have a short tea before leaving. I'm not going to let you have all the fun. I studied and lost a match, I hope you will at least entertain me with some tea,"

Draven followed her, his gaze steady, his expression calm as ever, but there was a spark in his eyes—a spark of interest, of challenge. "As you wish, Your Majesty," he said, his voice carrying a hint of something almost like amusement.

The two of them left the room together, the Go board left behind, the stones still scattered across its surface—a testament to the battle that had just taken place, to the clash of minds, of wills.

The guards and maids watched them go, their eyes wide, their hearts pounding with the realization that something had shifted between the queen and her instructor—something that felt powerful, something that felt like the beginning of something greater.

As they walked down the hallway, Aurelia glanced at Draven, her eyes glinting with mischief. "You know, Draven," she said, her tone teasing, "one of these days, I'm going to beat you. And when I do, you'd better be ready to grovel." Your journey continues with empire

Draven looked at her, his lips twitching slightly. "I will be sure to prepare myself for that unlikely eventuality, Your Majesty."

Aurelia snorted, shaking her head. "Unlikely, huh? We'll see about that."

They continued down the hallway, their voices fading into the distance, leaving behind the empty room and the abandoned board—a symbol of the battle they had fought and the battles still to come.n/ô/vel/b//in dot c//om

For Aurelia, this was only the beginning. The thrill of challenge, the excitement of being pushed to her limits—it was what she had been craving all along, and now that she had found it, she had no intention of letting it go.