I’m a Villainess, Can I Die?

Lying in bed, Vivian squeezed her eyes shut. She was in a foul mood.

Selina hadn’t shown up at the rose garden party she hosted yesterday.
That day at the boutique with the young lady, when the knock at the door came, Madame had left to answer it—only to return looking pale as a sheet.
When Vivian asked what had happened, Madame replied that Lady Selina had left early because she wasn’t feeling well.

Mia had scoffed and stood up immediately, while Vivian had simply pursed her lips and remained seated in the lounge for a while longer.
She had been perfectly fine just moments ago—how did she suddenly fall ill and leave without a word to her?
For a second, Vivian thought Selina had simply reverted to her old, selfish ways. But then she remembered the servant who had gone out to buy medicine earlier and shook her head.

No. She had already decided to side with Selina. There was no point in doubting her unnecessarily.
Just as she was trying to calm herself down, a messenger from House White arrived. After speaking with Madame first, the messenger approached her and formally expressed regret that the young lady would be unable to attend the party due to her poor condition.
Regret.

Yes, that summed it up perfectly.
Just remembering that day made her blood boil. It was already noon, and she was still in her nightgown, clutching a pillow while kicking the blankets in frustration.
Then, a knock at the door interrupted her tantrum, and her nanny entered, holding a silver tray with a single letter placed neatly on top.

"Whose letter is it?"
Since this was a nanny she had known since childhood, Vivian didn’t bother getting up. She simply lifted her head slightly and asked.
Clicking her tongue at the sight of her young lady’s state, the nanny slowly read the name written on the ornate envelope.

Then, she flapped the letter wildly in excitement.
"My lady! Vivian, my lady!"
Vivian, who had been rolling her eyes at the nanny’s uncharacteristic fuss, shot upright in bed.

"What? What is it?"
"It’s from Selina! Lady Selina White!"
"What?"
Vivian tossed the pillow somewhere across the room and leaped out of bed, snatching the letter from the nanny’s hands.

She stomped her feet excitedly as she took in the luxurious paper, decorated with embroidered blue flowers.
Carefully, she slid a letter knife along the envelope’s edge. Inside was a neatly folded piece of parchment.
Gulp.

She swallowed hard before pulling it out.
The handwriting was crooked and uneven.
Vivian frowned at the terrible penmanship but, as she read on, her expression gradually brightened.

"Oh my god!"
"What is it, my lady?"
Vivian, having finished the letter, started bouncing on the spot in excitement. The nanny’s usual nagging—A lady should not behave like this—went unheard.

"Look at this! ‘Dear Vivian’!"
"...And?"
"Nanny! She called me dear! Don’t you see what this means? It’s a sign of friendship! And do you know what she wrote at the end? She asked me to keep the contents of this letter a secret! My god! That means we’re basically best friends now!"

The nanny wasn’t entirely sure how that translated to best friends, but seeing Vivian so giddy, she decided to keep her mouth shut. There was no need to ruin the moment.
"I need to write a reply! Right now!"
Overcome with emotion, Vivian rushed to her desk and sat down.

She opened the lowest drawer, where she kept her collection of fine stationery, and selected only the most exquisite pieces.
After rolling out her wrists, she picked up a pen and began writing carefully.
Vivian was so focused on her letter that she didn’t even notice when the nanny left the room, shaking her head with a fond smile.

Time passed in silence.
"Haah, done."
Vivian proudly examined the page she had meticulously filled with words, but something felt… off.

The content was perfect. The stationery was perfect.
So why wasn’t she satisfied?
After a moment of pondering, she reread Selina’s letter.

"Ah!"
With a small exclamation, she opened the lowest drawer again and pulled out a fresh sheet of stationery.
Grabbing her pen once more, she murmured to herself.

"My handwriting is too neat. It lacks humanity."
This translation is the intellectual property of .
To be honest, Selina’s letter had been a complete mess.

But the opening lines had read:
"I hadn’t had the chance to write, as I was focusing on recovering. Now that I’m feeling better, I’m writing this myself."
Which meant this letter had been written by Selina’s own hand.

Of course, she could have dictated it to someone else, but no one would ever choose a scribe with such atrocious handwriting.
The response to the previous invitation hadn’t been this messy, so she had likely had a servant write it on her behalf back then.
If she sent a perfectly penned reply to someone with such terrible handwriting, how would Selina feel upon receiving it?

Thinking of this made Vivian feel ridiculously proud of herself. She rubbed her arms in self-satisfaction.
Well done, Vivian!
With great effort, she twisted her wrist and deliberately scrawled a messy reply, humming to herself in satisfaction.

If Selina saw her like this, she’d probably ask, What’s the name of this musical?
Meanwhile, at that very moment, someone else was thinking about Selina.
Unlike Vivian, who was sulking in her nightgown until noon, this person was dressed in an elegant dress and high-heeled shoes.

Her lips, painted a striking red, curled into a sharp arc.
A high-pitched, gleeful laugh filled the room, making the maid beside her tremble.
"Hah! I knew it. People don’t change so easily."

Mia sipped her steaming tea, chuckling under her breath.
Across from her, the Marquess of Lascelle lovingly watched his daughter, then noticed the trembling maid. With a casual wave, he dismissed her.
The maid scurried out of the room as fast as she could.

Mia watched her retreating figure with an amused smirk before leaning back in her chair, practically vibrating with excitement.
"So, my dear daughter, what has you in such a good mood?"
The marquess pushed his teacup aside as he asked.

His red eyes gleamed, the same vivid shade as Mia’s.
"Well, I heard Selina didn’t attend Vivian’s garden party."
It was highly improper for a noble to decline an event they had agreed to attend without a valid reason.

With large-scale parties, an absence might go unnoticed.
But a garden party was different.
Despite the party in its name, it was nothing more than a small gathering.

With an event of that scale, news of Selina’s attendance had likely spread far and wide—whether spoken aloud or not, everyone knew.
Those who had attended the gathering in hopes of befriending the young lady would surely have gossiped behind closed doors about her failure to appear.
Imagining that, Mia let out another amused hohoho of laughter.

"Serves her right."
She was, of course, referring to Vivian.
The daughter of a mere merchant-count, trying to act as Selina’s equal just because she had her backing—how infuriating that had been.

She had stuck by Selina’s side, acting the part of a dear friend, but in the end, she was disposable.
The thought filled Mia with so much satisfaction that she couldn’t stop smiling.
"I went through so much just to secure that spot next to her."

But then, her brow furrowed in irritation.
Thinking about Vivian standing beside Selina reminded her of her own past self.
"Our little princess, you’ll get wrinkles," the marquess murmured lazily.

Startled, Mia quickly rubbed at her forehead. A wrinkle? On this perfect face? Unacceptable.
Seeing his daughter frantically smooth out her skin, the marquess chuckled.
"Well, this works out. Considering how much stress you were under dealing with her, this is for the best."

"But, Father… this complicates things…"
"Shh."
At Mia’s words, the marquess raised a finger to his lips before leisurely lifting his teacup.

Mia swallowed and nodded.
"Always be careful with your words. You understand, don’t you, Mia?"
"Of course, Father."

Satisfied, the marquess took a slow sip of tea before leaning back in his chair, rolling his neck with a quiet crack.
Though his posture was utterly relaxed, his crimson eyes gleamed more dangerously than ever.
It had been about ten days since I woke up.

Thankfully, my body had recovered significantly. My legs no longer gave out on me, which meant I no longer had to worry about that ridiculous palanquin.
Before, every time I so much as tried to move somewhere, a group of servants would gather and insist on carrying me around.
For a while, I genuinely thought they had lost their minds.

Even after returning from his short leave, Aiden didn’t bother stopping them—he only glanced at them with a dazed expression.
Anyway, that was in the past now.
I sat at my desk, which I had barely used, idly scribbling words onto a sheet of paper to get some hand exercise.

"Lady Vivian Jonas has sent a reply," Aiden announced, handing me a letter.
The plain envelope bore the name Vivian Jonas, scrawled in crooked letters.
Was she also uncomfortable with using a quill?

I had never used one before coming to this world, so my handwriting was a disaster. But Vivian had been raised here, and as a noble, she must have practiced calligraphy…
Well, some things are impossible no matter how much effort you put in.
With far more ease than before, I sliced open the envelope with a paper knife and unfolded the letter.

To my dearest, dearest, dearest Lady Selina White,
The sun shines ever so brightly these days, and the flowers in the garden bloom beautifully. To be confined to bed on such a lovely day—how utterly frustrating it must be. I can scarcely imagine how difficult it must be for you, and it pains me greatly.
Of course, I completely understand why you were unable to attend my party. What matters more—a party or one’s health?

For you to take the time to write me personally despite your condition… Your kindness moves me beyond words. It is as if a flower has bloomed in my heart.
Though my own expression of sincerity cannot compare to yours, I wish to visit and offer my support in person. If you would permit me, I eagerly await your reply.
Sincerely, thinking of your recovery,
Vivian Jonas

I read the last wobbly line and closed my eyes.
Vivian never missed an opportunity.
Even if I wanted to pretend I didn’t notice, there was no way to refuse her visit without seeming rude.

I had written to apologize for missing the party. Rejecting someone who now wished to visit me in return… that would make me look pretty inconsiderate.
I could feel her determination—if she couldn’t get me to attend, then she would come to me instead.
"Are you alright?"

"She wants to visit."
I pushed the letter away and slumped onto my desk.
If I had met Eunji before jumping off that balcony, I wouldn’t have to deal with any of this cleanup…

But there was no point thinking about what was already done.
I closed my eyes.
I’d write a reply… after resting a little longer.

At some point, I must have fallen asleep.
The prolonged time lying on my desk had left my back sore.
As I straightened up, a light blanket slid off my shoulders and onto the floor.

I blinked at it, then turned my gaze toward the chair beside my bed.
Someone was sitting there, perfectly upright, eyes closed.
As my vision adjusted, the figure became clearer.

Sunlight illuminated strands of silver hair.
"Sir Lukas?"
Even though it had been nothing more than an absentminded murmur, the closed eyes before me slowly opened.

And those sharp yet drowsy eyes turned toward me.
"Selina."