I’m a Villainess, Can I Die?

Just in case, I glanced behind me.

As expected, Lukas—who had already stepped back the moment that Vivian woman had approached me—was now comfortably positioned against a far-off wall, watching from a distance.
That spot was perfect.
He had managed to find the absolute best seat in the house while leaving me to fend for myself in the middle of this battlefield.

Even if I didn’t know much about being escorted, I knew this wasn’t how it was supposed to go.
Lukas caught my fleeting glance and raised his glass slightly in acknowledgment.
I turned my head away.

There wasn’t a single useful person here.
If I suddenly bolted, he’d probably panic and chase after me.
Should I run for it…?

I glanced down at my shoes, seriously considering it.
But before I could act on the thought, Mia spoke.
"Now it’s just the two of us, Selina."

"Ah, yes."
"Still speaking so formally? That’s a bit disappointing…"
Mia actually looked genuinely disappointed, furrowing her brows before glancing around.

Everyone was pretending not to watch, but their attention was clearly on us.
Mia seemed to enjoy the attention, her lips curving into a pleased smile as she leaned in, close to my ear.
"So tell me… did you really lose your memory? Or are you planning something fun?"

Ah, such a dramatic young lady.
She was at the peak of adolescence, convinced she was at the center of a storm, the eye of the hurricane.
And most of the people watching us probably thought the same of themselves.
None of them realized they were nothing more than leaves, tossed around by the winds of the very storm they believed they controlled.

But life was easier when you went along with the majority.
If things got annoying, I could always push some unsuspecting soul forward and say, This person will answer in my place.
With that in mind, I decided to play along.

Sure, be the eye of the hurricane. Be the transfer student in the middle of the storm. Do whatever makes you happy.
Just keep a reasonable distance from me.
I took a step back.

Mia's red eyes widened in surprise, flickering with something unsettled.
Raising my hand slightly between us, I re-established a comfortable boundary.
That’s far enough.

"It seems we were close before," I said evenly. "But right now, I don’t remember anything."
Mia’s lips parted slightly as she stared at me.
Then, with a quick glance at the onlookers, she adjusted her expression, smoothing it into something more composed.

On the surface, she looked amused—like she thought I was joking.
But her eyes told a different story.
Pure chaos.

A full-scale earthquake had already begun inside them.
"This is… a little overwhelming," I added.
Immediately, the air in the banquet hall shifted.

Eyes darted rapidly between different social groups, silent calculations running in real time.
At this engagement party, several factions had formed.
There were those who fawned over the Crown Prince, eager to earn the Emperor’s favor.

There were those who hovered around the Duke and Duchess, hoping for a favorable connection.
Then there were those gathered around today’s main couple—Aaron and Princess Ariel—offering their well-wishes while seeking political gain.
And then… there were the ones who had their eyes on me.

The noble lady who had recently suffered a serious illness, lost her memory, and—most importantly—was known for her terrible personality.
This particular group consisted of ambitious young men and women, all waiting for the right moment to approach and somehow establish ties with me.
Right now, those same nobles were watching closely.

After all, their little project of befriending the amnesiac Lady Selina had already hit a snag.
Vivian Jonas had stolen the first move.
Vivian Jonas, daughter of Count Jonas—the head of a family renowned for its fashion empire.

Most noble families didn’t run businesses directly. Instead, they invested in ventures, subtly inserting themselves into profitable industries.
Count Jonas’s family was no exception.
Nearly every high-end boutique had their money in it, and by extension, Vivian was automatically considered a fashion leader among noblewomen.

And noblewomen’s social circles?
They were everything.
Tea parties, group outings, exclusive invitations—these networks weren’t just about friendship.

They were about securing the best marriage prospects. The best business deals. The juiciest rumors. The most profitable secrets.
Vivian, determined to take over her father’s business one day, had spent the past year scouting the perfect group to join.
And she had finally made her choice.

Selina White’s social circle.
Apparently, Selina had been notoriously difficult. The other noblewomen in her group were constantly on edge, careful to appease her every whim.
And yet, no one ever left the circle.

Why?
Because it benefited them.
At first, Vivian had almost given up on the idea.

After all, the group was exclusive, and Selina acted as though her duchess-to-be status was an untouchable birthright.
But then—news broke.
Selina White had lost her memory.

Vivian didn’t know how much was lost, but the Duke’s family had spread the information themselves, which meant…
They had already set the groundwork.
‘The noble circles have been informed—Selina doesn’t remember most people from high society, so don’t take it personally if she doesn’t recognize you.’

To Vivian, this was an opportunity.
For the first time, everyone was starting from the same line.
If she could capture Selina’s favor now, she wouldn’t just join the group—she’d secure a high position within it.

Vivian’s eyes lingered on the beautiful figure draped in pale blue, standing at a distance.
It seemed the other noblewomen were carefully calculating the right moment to approach.
Amateurs.

In business, timing and confidence were everything.
If you hesitated, you’d lose your chance to make a fortune.
And fortune favors the bold.

Vivian envisioned her bright future, took a step forward—
And immediately regretted it.
Her sharp instincts, honed from years of observing noble dealings alongside her father, screamed at her:

Selina does not care about you. Not one bit.
She wasn’t even pretending to be interested.
This translation is the intellectual property of .

Her responses were purely reflexive—like a wind-up doll answering out of habit.
This was not the same Selina she had observed from a distance last year.
Back then, she had been simple. A little… emotional. That’s why today’s approach had been planned entirely around excessive flattery.

But the Selina standing before her now—
There wasn’t a shred of emotion.
Vivian had an ominous feeling that if she started showering her with praise, Selina might just walk away, rubbing her arms in discomfort.

So instead, she kept throwing out different conversation topics, testing the waters.
What is this? Can losing memories change a person’s entire personality?
‘Well… I guess I’d have to lose my memories to find out.’

By the time she received the twenty-first empty response from Selina, she felt the atmosphere shift.
Attention was no longer on her.
Click. Clack. Click. Clack.

There was only one person who would enter with such deliberate footfalls, drawing attention rather than softening them.
Mia Lascelle.
Vivian was already frustrated.

No matter what she said to Selina, all she got was a soulless, "Ah…"
Now, this smug nobody-can-get-between-Selina-and-me girl had to show up.
Just great.

Today is not my day.
Mia did what she always did. She used formal speech toward Vivian, but spoke informally to Selina—a subtle way to emphasize their closeness.
She even made a point to say Vivian Jonas, Count’s daughter, just to reinforce their ranks.

Vivian sighed inwardly and stepped back.
Still, it didn’t sting that much.
Because after actually talking to Selina, she had realized something—

I can’t even tell if I was talking to a person or just… monologuing at a very elegant-looking doll.
And Mia?
Oh, she was about to experience the exact same thing.

Vivian smirked as she reached for a drink, downing it in one go.
A very unladylike move.
But right now, she needed to cool off.

And just as Vivian had predicted—Mia was floundering.
What is wrong with her?
Normally, she’d be throwing around informal speech even with nobles she barely knew.

Now, she was using proper titles?
And then… she said she felt uncomfortable?
Mia’s eyes darted around.

She knew people were whispering.
About her.
Hah!

Her face burned.
She had fought tooth and nail to secure her place as Selina’s closest friend, and now, just because of some memory loss—
No.

Absolutely not.
She knew Selina’s true nature.
They had spent too much time together for her to be fooled.

Selina was rotten to the core.
A true villainess.
And villains—true villains—could never abandon their nature.

Right now, she was hiding her claws.
But a puma didn’t become a house cat just because it retracted its claws.
Besides, Mia knew exactly when Selina shined brightest.

The moment she had a target for her cruelty.
If she could recreate that moment, the real Selina would emerge.
And once she did, her memories would surely follow.

Mia’s lips curled into a smirk.
She had already won.
“Oh, don’t say you feel uncomfortable! How could you? We’re so close.”

The other noblewomen watching the exchange silently clicked their tongues.
If anyone wanted to get close to Selina tonight, they’d have to go through Mia first.
Which meant…

It wasn’t worth the effort.
One by one, they subtly backed away, turning their attention to other conversations.
Of course, they still stole occasional glances at the two.

Meanwhile, I was beginning to suspect that Mia had serious issues with listening comprehension.
When I said "This is a bit much," I hadn’t just meant "Give me some space."
I had meant:

"I don’t remember you, and I want you to leave."
But instead of leaving, she doubled down.
As the nobles distanced themselves, she intensified her performance.

She had noticed her audience shrinking, and she couldn’t stand it.
At this point, we were beyond a drama performance.
We were at full-blown musical theater levels of expression.

I sighed internally.
Fine.
Go ahead.

Do your worst.
And as if she heard my silent permission, Mia finally stopped her grand retelling of some probably fabricated childhood memory.
Her red lips curled into that smirk.

Ah. There it is.
The kind of smirk that practically screamed:
"I am the villain of this story."

“Oh, I’m feeling thirsty,” she mused. “I should go get something to drink.”
I didn’t react.
I simply watched.

What is she up to now?
This was the moment in a musical where the song was about to start.
And then—click, clack, click.

She strode past me.
I recognized the direction immediately.
Ah. Aiden.

How predictable.
How utterly simple.
If villains were too foolish, they wouldn’t even be feared.

They’d be pitied.
That’s why Mia would never truly be the villain.
She would only ever be the villain’s right hand.

Honestly, she had been more entertaining when she was performing her solo act.
Now?
She had lost my interest.

I watched her movements with cold disinterest.
“Oh my, look who it is. The ever-loyal servant of our dear Selina! What brings you to the party?”
Mia’s voice was sickeningly sweet.

The nobles had little interest in Aiden.
No matter how stunning his looks were, looks were just that—surface-level.
And his blood wasn’t noble.

To them, Aiden wasn’t worth more than a decoration.
Or, to be more accurate…
Less than a decoration.

Just another piece of scenery.
How disgusting.