I’m a Villainess, Can I Die?

"Are you going to kill me?"
"Huh?"

The man in front of me, who had been bowing his head, looked up in disbelief.
But then, as if startled, he quickly lowered his head again.
Ah, his crown is completely covered. No worries about baldness in the future.

"Can you kill me painlessly?"
I meant it. I wasn’t afraid of dying again, but if possible, I wanted it to be painless.
Last time, I hadn’t even had the chance to feel pain before being dragged to this place.

"Why do you keep… Why do you keep telling me to kill you or not? Aren’t I your loyal servant, Lady Selina…?"
"Really?"
I lazily tapped the tip of my foot at his words. Loyal servant? And yet, later on, he’d strike me in the back of the head with magic.

What an incredible character arc.
Perhaps feeling uneasy at the prolonged silence, the man in front of me cautiously lifted his head little by little, sneaking glances at me.
"If you so much as utter the word ‘magic’ in the future, consider your tongue gone."

His face instantly turned deathly pale. I didn’t know a person’s face could drain of color so quickly.
I had woken up in this place just a few days ago.
Inside a novel called Crown of Dawn.

A third-rate romance novel I had read aloud to my younger sibling in the past. The writing was terrible, the pacing was a mess, and everything about it was a disaster. Yet, I had to read it over and over until my voice was hoarse for my sibling’s sake.
In my previous life, I had lived solely for my younger sibling.
I was born an orphan and adopted by a childless couple. But soon after, they had a child of their own.

That child, my sibling, was born weak and sickly. My adoptive parents blamed all their misfortune on me.
They hit me, cursed me, and starved me.
Every aspect of my life was dictated by my sibling’s needs—my studies, my career, my every choice.
In that past life, I never even had the chance to figure out what I liked. There was never time for that.

At times, I resented my sibling. They treated everything I had as if it naturally belonged to them.
But they were bedridden. It wasn’t like I could truly hate them. That only made things harder.
Our relationship had always been strange. A complicated entanglement of resentment and dependence. A connection that defied simple labels.

And then, just like that, my sibling died. Before even reaching twenty.
With that, my purpose was gone.
My parents threw me out. I was cast onto the streets, and I had no desire to keep living. Even if I got older, even if I earned money—it would all just be me following a path someone else had set for me.

What was I supposed to do now?
I shut myself in a tiny rented room and didn’t leave. I just sat there, thinking.
Everything was exhausting.

I couldn’t even tell who I was anymore. The weariness that came with feeling nothing was more suffocating than anything else.
Then, my sibling’s face came to mind. Pale. Sickly.
That was the only face I could remember.

I had spent my whole life sacrificing myself for you. Shouldn’t you have at least left me with the memory of a warm, peach-colored face? Just once, shouldn’t you have let me see you looking happy?
Ah, whatever. I was done.
And so, like a crumbling, abandoned building, I threw myself away.

…Huh? It doesn’t hurt?
I opened my eyes again, dazed. There was no pain. My body felt weak, but there was no suffering.
Is this what death is supposed to feel like?

I looked around. Was this hell? The afterlife? What did the world after death even look like?
As my blurry vision gradually cleared, I saw faces—eyes, noses, and mouths becoming more distinct.
But something was strange. The world beyond death seemed oddly bright.

Is it supposed to be this bright? What’s going on?
When my eyes finally adjusted, the people looking down at me began making a commotion. I had no idea what was happening as someone suddenly shouted.
"Lady Selina!"

Ow. My eardrums.
I couldn’t even open my mouth. I just blinked.
Even if I wanted to speak, my voice wouldn’t come out. I must have lost it after being unconscious for several days.

And so, I lay there, unable to move, as I gradually pieced together my situation.
According to them, Selina had tripped on the stairs and fallen. She had been unconscious for four days. Today, she woke up—and that she was now me.
The young man who had visited me in tears was my older brother. The middle-aged man and woman were my parents.

That story suddenly came to mind. Am I the butterfly, or is the butterfly me?
Sorting through my thoughts made my head spin.
So… I committed suicide, and now I’m Selina.

Then what happened to Selina?
Ah. Whatever. I didn’t care.
I sprawled back onto the bed.

At least they brought my meals to me. That was convenient.
I could just lie here and do nothing.
For the next few days, I half-heartedly nodded along as the maids gossiped around me.

Mmhmm. I see. Maids sure talk a lot. At this rate, they’ll tell me Selina’s entire life story.
Finally, after several days, I was able to speak again. My throat had mostly recovered. My voice was still hoarse, though, so I had no idea what Selina originally sounded like.
It was just past lunchtime when the people who called themselves my mother and father came into my room to check on me.

"Selina, how are you feeling today?"
“Alright.”
It was the first word I had spoken since arriving in this world.

The two people standing before me lit up with joy.
But that joy disappeared almost instantly. No, in fact, their faces contorted into sheer shock.
Because I had no intention of calling them “Mother” or “Father.”

So I said it. The ultimate line straight out of a trashy drama.
“…Where am I? And… who are you?”
Selina’s—no, my—parents froze in disbelief before quickly launching into a flurry of explanations.

If you are reading this translation anywhere other than .net or SilkRoadTL, it has been stolen.
My name, my title, our shared memories, my brother—an endless stream of information poured out.
I listened absentmindedly, focused on one thought.

Something about all this felt strangely familiar.
Even when the maids had been gossiping, I’d had this nagging sense that I had heard all of this before…
Ah. That’s right. I had read this before.

That ridiculously childish, third-rate novel.
Crown of Dawn.
And Selina, the doomed villainess fated to die young.

That’s how I realized what kind of world I had ended up in and what my position was within it.
From that day on, Selina’s parents had been bringing people who knew “me” into my room, hoping I would recover my memories.
And now, I was back in the present moment, staring at the man in front of me—the so-called loyal servant of Selina White, nodding his head earnestly with his pale blond hair catching the light.

I almost felt sorry for him, but I knew the truth. Not a single word from his mouth was sincere.
Even though I hadn’t read the book carefully, I had read it aloud enough times to remember the general flow of events and the key characters.
Not perfectly, but… ugh, what was his name again?

Selina had picked him up off the streets when he was being kicked around like a stray dog. She had brought him in, called him a servant—no, a slave—and treated him accordingly.
He had played along, buttering her up when necessary, only to later cozy up to the male lead and betray her at the most opportune moment.
And now, after I mentioned magic, his face had turned deathly pale. His eyes wavered as he pressed his lips tightly together.

He didn’t say a word, but his expression screamed, How the hell did she know that?
“Leave. I want to sleep.”
The man—whatever his name was—lowered his head and quickly left the room, his nervous gaze darting back at me as he went.

I glanced around the now-empty space. After dismissing all the maids, I flopped back onto the bed.
Ah, this bed is incredible. The blankets are amazing. I could stay here forever…
In this book, Selina White was a woman driven by greed.

Her mother despised her older half-brother, Aaron White, and Selina, taking after her, coveted the dukedom that should have belonged to him.
But no matter how much she wanted it, she lacked the talent to achieve her goals. So she stayed up night after night, desperately studying and working herself to the bone.
In other words, she put in the effort, but she simply wasn’t capable enough to see results.

That frustration festered, and her jealousy of her more competent brother and his circle of allies only grew stronger.
Her resentment and cruelty eventually extended to Aaron’s lover—no, his former lover—the imperial princess, Ariel.
She succeeded in driving a wedge between them.

But in the end, the male lead and other key characters, who held affection for Ariel and held nothing but contempt for Selina, joined forces and threw Selina into prison.
Stripped of her title, abandoned by her so-called friends and family, she fell ill and died alone in a cold cell at the age of twenty-three.
What a wretched fate.

I turned over, searching for a comfortable position.
Ah. This is the best one.
I had no plans to struggle or fight.

No ambition.
If I lived, I lived. If I died, I died. There was nothing I wanted.
Or rather, I was incapable of wanting anything.

This bizarre situation was intriguing, sure. But that was it.
Once something becomes numb, it’s not easy to regain sensation.
I had jumped of my own will.

With my own two feet.
I didn’t know why some higher power had gone so far as to force me into another person’s life, but none of it mattered.
“…Ah. This is exhausting.”

Yes. I was still tired of life.
I spent the entire day sleeping, only to find myself dreaming.
In my dreams, my younger sibling appeared. That annoying, insufferable sibling who, despite everything, I couldn’t bring myself to truly hate.

The sibling with whom I had shared a strange, complicated relationship—until they died.
The scene of their final moments replayed before my eyes.
I hadn’t shed a single tear that day.

All I had thought was, Ah. So my usefulness has finally run out.
It felt like one of those sudden flashbacks people get in stories. I stared blankly as the memories unfolded…
And then, the scene changed.

Selina appeared.
Pale blue hair. Pale blue eyes. Her gaze was sharp, slightly upturned, yet softened by the brightness of her colors. Or perhaps it was just her sickly complexion.
She was gasping for breath, alone in a tiny, empty prison cell.

Dragging herself toward the door, she pounded on the rusted iron bars.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
Please… Someone, please… Save me… Save me! No… Please… Someone, just stay by my side… Even just for a moment… Just until I die… Please… Not like this… Not so alone…

She inhaled sharply, then coughed up dark red blood.
Her body stilled for a moment. The fear, anger, and desperation vanished from her face.
Then, suddenly, she screamed again, her voice shaking.

No… No! Please… I… I… No… No… I was wrong! Please… No… No…
Please… Please…
With that final, heart-wrenching wail, her body collapsed onto the cold floor.

And she never moved again.
No—she couldn’t move again.