I’m a Villainess, Can I Die?

"I'm sorry."
It felt like I had used up all the apologies I would ever give in my lifetime today.

As soon as I finished speaking, Lukas's faint smile disappeared with a snap. He shook his head and pressed his fingers against his temple. So that laid-back act was just a performance. Huh. I thought it was real.
Lukas let out a deep sigh and looked at me with sharp eyes.
"If you don't plan on climbing that clock tower, stay put."

Again, he left me with nothing to say.
"Well, sometimes people change their minds... or so they say."
That must have been the wrong answer. Lukas's gaze turned even sharper. If looks could kill, I’d be dead already. Wait—was there a hidden mastermind in the novel I didn’t know about? What if it was Lukas all along?

"Just kidding."
As I added that, Lukas let out a small breath, almost a scoff.
"Wow, I’d love to learn from you."

Yeah, I don’t think so. But if I said that out loud, this conversation would take a turn for the worse, so I simply shrugged and kept my mouth shut.
"To be honest, I was angry. That day when I was away, just for a few hours. In those few hours, something like that happened. I worked so damn hard to protect you."
Right. He had every right to be mad. He had followed me around like a shadow, and in just a few hours, all his efforts had gone up in smoke. That was why I apologized in the first place.

As expected, I kept my thoughts to myself. Since I had already apologized, I should at least try to stay consistent.
"I was angry... but not anymore."
That was unexpected. I thought he’d keep nagging me. When I lifted my head, our eyes met. He was smiling. His lips curled up in a grin, and his violet eyes, shaped like crescent moons, were fixed on me.

"Because you're alive."
Because I'm alive. I had no response to that. It felt strange that all these things—Selina’s story, someone else’s story—were actually mine. Situations where survival alone was enough to be forgiven…
I silently nodded, and Lukas's eyes returned to their usual shape. He glanced at my arm and twitched his brows.

"I saw earlier that you had a wound on your arm. That kind of injury scars quickly, so take care of it. Priest Ian used up all his divine power treating the severe head wound and dulling the pain when you woke up. He said he wouldn’t recover for a few more days... so be careful."
"Oh dear, I must be quite the burden."
"Do you think Priest Ian is the only one exhausted because of you?"
Lukas stood up and pushed his chair back toward the wall. So he was leaving now. Good. I didn’t have the energy to deal with people any longer. Once he was gone, I’d eat something and sleep again.

After tidying his clothes, Lukas gave me a polite nod. I returned the gesture, and half on impulse, half as a response to his willingness to understand me simply because I had survived, I spoke.
"My dear brother's dear friend.
I’ll be in your care from now on."

Lukas, who had turned his back to leave, stopped and looked at me. That villainous smile was back.
"I’ll be in your care too, Selina."
His voice was higher than usual, laced with amusement. For a moment, I recalled how he used to call roll back at the academy. I had a bad feeling about this… Maybe I shouldn’t have said anything.

Well, whatever. What’s done is done. Let’s just take it in stride.
As soon as Lukas left, I slumped down.
Maybe it was because people had been coming and going ever since I woke up, but now that the room was empty, the silence felt heavier. The kind of silence that invited contemplation. Then, a quiet growl echoed through the room.

I was hungry. I should eat something first.
Lifting my weak arm, I pulled the servant bell.
Even after finishing a bowl of bland soup, it didn’t feel like I had eaten anything. I had never been a big eater, but even after clearing my plate, my stomach felt empty.

Apparently, eating too much at once could be dangerous for my body. So, what choice did I have?
I just had to make sure I didn’t get sick.
But… wasn’t I supposed to die of illness in four years?

Damn. What if I had to eat this kind of food until then?
Eunji suddenly came to mind. Near the end, she couldn’t even swallow food like this. She had barely clung to life through IV drips. The memory of her pale face overlapped with a vision of her soft, peach-tinted cheeks from long ago, and I shook my head.
Right. That’s four years from now. I’ll think about it then.

For now, like Eunji said, I should focus on living.
After finishing my meal and taking my post-meal medicine, I sat blankly on the bed, catching my breath. The maid who had served me began gathering the dishes onto a tray and tidying up the room.
"Oh, call Aiden on your way out."

"Yes, my lady."
I leaned against the headboard and watched the maid push the cart out. The sky was growing darker. I should have asked her to open the curtains. I wanted to see the sky.
A few moments later, there was a knock at the door. But instead of Aiden, it was the maid who had just left.

"Aiden?"
"He left early today, my lady.
He won’t be coming back until tomorrow."

This translation is the intellectual property of .
Left early? Come to think of it, he did look unwell earlier. And that was probably because of me… Ah. So he left because of me.
Stress really was the root of all illness. He had witnessed everything firsthand, too. What if he developed PTSD or something?

A surge of guilt washed over me. Ever since I woke up, all I had been doing was apologizing.
I decided to leave Aiden's matter for tomorrow. If he had left because he was sick, barging in on him now wouldn’t help. It would just be a hassle for both of us.
"Oh… I see. Well, nothing I can do about that.

Could you draw the curtains for me, then?"
"Of course, my lady."
The maid smiled as she pulled the curtains back. The shimmering moonlight seeped into the room, but from where I lay in bed, I couldn’t see the sky.

I really wanted to see it tonight, but it was a shame.
For a brief moment, I considered asking the maid to help me up, but exhaustion crept in, and I decided to just see the sky in my dreams instead.
I must have apologized too much today.

Pouring my sincerity into an apology had drained my energy along with it.
Tomorrow, I should start by thanking Priest Ian, then find Aiden and have a conversation with him... As I went over my schedule in my tired mind, my eyelids slowly drifted shut.
"How are you feeling today, my lady?"

"Aside from some stiffness when I woke up... I'm fine."
The doctor carefully rolled up my sleeve. As expected, the wounds remained unchanged. They really were quite spectacular to look at.
"The bruises should fade in time. As for the hairline fracture, it will heal quickly as long as you don't strain yourself. The problem is..."

His gaze flickered toward the wound on my left arm. It wasn’t deep enough to require stitches, but it was long enough to leave a scar.
A large scar on a noblewoman’s body. I understood why he was concerned, but honestly, to me, this kind of injury wasn’t something to frown over.
If anything, it made me look strong. If someone picked a fight with me, I could just roll up my sleeves and say, Do you even know who I am? and they’d probably run away.

If the doctor knew what kind of nonsense was running through my head, he wouldn’t be making that expression.
"Still, this much is nothing. Surviving at all is already a miracle."
The moment I brushed it off, the doctor’s expression brightened considerably. Just a moment ago, he had been staring at my arm with deep concern... but now, grinning like a fool, he suddenly turned and yanked Priest Ian forward.

Ian blinked in confusion, startled by the abrupt movement, while the doctor patted his back enthusiastically.
I was just as baffled.
"Priest Ian played a huge role!

He healed the wounds in an instant! I mean, where did a talent like this even come from?!"
And then the praises continued.
As the doctor heaped compliments onto Ian, I gave him a perfunctory nod. Ian, on the other hand, was turning red—his ears, in particular, were burning up. Ah. This reminded me of Mia.

The doctor, completely unaware that Ian’s ears looked about ready to combust, continued his enthusiastic rambling. He was proud—so very, very proud of Ian.
"It’s too much praise. I wasn’t able to heal the external wounds because I lacked divine power," Ian finally interrupted, his tone neutral, though his voice was noticeably higher than when we first exchanged greetings.
The doctor audibly inhaled, eyes widening as if he had just witnessed the climax of an epic drama.

A brief silence stretched between them. Ian, slightly exasperated, glanced at the doctor.
From a third-party perspective, this was quite entertaining.
The doctor, after staring at Ian for a long moment, suddenly turned to look at me.

Why was he looking at me now? I tilted my head in confusion.
Then, as if having received divine revelation, the doctor dramatically opened his mouth.
"And he's humble too! Worry not, my lady! External wounds are my specialty!

I will make sure to treat that wound on your arm perfectly, so you can rest easy!"
No, doctor. The one who needs treatment right now is Priest Ian, who's practically melting beside you.
Once they left, the room fell into an eerie silence.

Was the doctor always this... excitable? It seemed like Ian had somehow triggered something in him.
Well, thanks to that, my simple words of gratitude felt completely insignificant in comparison.
Even though I had gone through the trouble of bowing my head and everything... Oh well. I did thank him, so I suppose that’s enough.

"My lady, would you like orange juice or grape juice as a snack?"
At the maid’s question, I turned my gaze toward the window. Warm sunlight poured through the glass.
It was the perfect weather to go outside.

Of course, it was also the perfect weather to stay in bed.
"I don’t need juice. Pack two slices of cake for me instead."
"Cake?"

"Yes, cake."
A short while later, I found myself holding two neatly wrapped slices of cake.
The maid who brought them was still looking at me as if she couldn’t quite understand my request.

Well, considering that the only food I had eaten so far was a bowl of thin soup with no solid ingredients, cake did seem like an odd choice.
I handed one of the slices to the maid.
"This one is for you."

It had only been three days since I woke up, but she had been taking care of me the entire time—helping me up in the morning, assisting with meals, washing me, supporting me...
Taking care of a patient was a tedious and exhausting job.
No one understood that better than I did.

So, this was a gift.
I didn’t know if she liked cake, but in this world, it was considered a high-end dessert, so it should be enough as a token of appreciation.
"...My lady..."

As expected, it was more than enough.
The maid, holding the cake with both hands, looked at me with an expression of pure gratitude.
If yesterday had been the room of tears, then today was the room of appreciation.

It really did feel like the room’s theme changed daily.
Watching the maid fidget with excitement, still holding the cake reverently, was amusing... but there was still one more person who needed their cake before the whipped cream melted.
"Help me out with something first."

The maid, still gripping the cake as if it were a sacred treasure, nodded so quickly it made a whoosh sound.
Blindly agreeing over a slice of cake… she reminded me of someone.
I picked up the other box and began walking.

Or at least, I tried.
Before I even reached the door, my body swayed dangerously.
It seemed I lacked the strength to walk properly after spending so much time bedridden.

The maid, who was much smaller than me, wasn’t strong enough to fully support me either, so we ended up stumbling together.
We must have looked like two newborn deer.
Should I just give up?

For a brief moment, I seriously considered turning back.
But I shook my head.
Post-traumatic stress needed to be dealt with quickly.

The fact that Aiden, who prided himself on his professionalism, had disappeared without a trace meant he must have been truly shaken.
I had never been to the servants' quarters, but I knew where they were.
A two-story mansion at the back of the duchy’s estate.

Considering that most noble families crammed their servants into small, dingy rooms tucked away in the farthest corners of their homes, this level of housing was practically luxurious.
Proper living conditions were important, after all.
Just as I was about to reach the servants' quarters—

I hesitated, glanced back, and let out a small sigh.
No, I let out a sigh just looking at my own condition.