I’m a Villainess, Can I Die?

The still body was utterly wretched.

And so, as the dazzling protagonists took center stage, Selina faded away—without even the shadow of a presence.
So that’s what it was, Selina. In your final moments, you wanted someone to be by your side.
Is that why you called me? Someone as pitiful and abandoned as you? Did you summon me to fulfill the wish you couldn’t?

Or was it because I looked like someone who had no lingering attachment to life—someone who could choose death without hesitation?
Did you bring me here so your death wouldn’t be miserable? So that, instead of wasting away alone, you could at least die on your own terms?
It didn’t matter.

I was Selina now. I would live in her body. And I would die at twenty-three.
Those two things would never change.
I snapped back to consciousness.

The room was dimly lit by candlelight, not electric bulbs—a reminder that this was Selina’s world.
The image of her dying face flickered before my eyes.
“…Should I at least… grant a dead person’s wish?”

…Never mind.
That sounded exhausting. Not just a normal kind of exhausting—the absolute kind.
I had made an effort. After that day, I had forced myself out of bed, tried to live properly.

But no matter where I went, there were eyes on me. Whispering. Hovering. Reaching out with well-meaning hands.
This household was insane.
Why were there so many people?

"Forget it. So what if you die miserably? You won’t even remember it once you’re gone. Sorry, Selina—"
I surrendered to my apathy, lying down in the grass on the farthest, least-traveled path in the estate.
…There weren’t any mites here, were there?
I thought about dozing off when the sound of rustling caught my attention, followed by the distinct crunch of approaching footsteps.

I had no intention of opening my eyes.
This was the Duke’s estate. I was a noble lady. That meant I didn’t have to. I could just pretend to be asleep.
Unfortunately, whoever was making the noise had no intention of letting me be.

Rustle. Rustle. Rustle. Rustle. Rustle.
Alright. You win.
With a groan, I forced myself to sit up.

The sound seemed to be coming from beyond the bushes beside me.
I crawled forward, pushing the branches aside to peek through.
A man was standing there.

His long hair fluttered as he swung his sword.
One thought crossed my mind.
…Does this estate not have a proper training ground?

Why was he practicing here?
I had no interest in getting tangled up with anyone, so I decided to slip away quietly.
But as I tried to pull my head back, I realized—

I was stuck.
My hair had gotten caught in the branches.
Life, huh. This was definitely a novel. Did even villains get hit with ‘fateful encounter’ tropes?

Well. Nothing to do about it now.
"Excuse me… Hey, excuse me…"
The man stopped mid-swing at the sound of my voice, glancing around in confusion.

Apparently, he hadn’t noticed me yet. He tilted his head, then resumed his practice.
"Excuse me…!"
I raised my voice slightly.

This time, he lowered his sword properly.
His sharp gaze darkened as he scanned the area—before finally locking onto the bush I was trapped in.
Oh wow. A full dramatic sequence.

With my head half-stuck in the foliage, I could only watch as he cautiously made his way toward me.
When he finally reached me, his entire body stiffened.
Yeah. It’s weird, isn’t it? I think so too. This situation is really weird.

"Can you help me out? My hair’s caught."
The man continued to study me warily.
Then, realization dawned in his eyes. He finally recognized whose face—half-hidden in the bushes—he was looking at.

People fight tooth and nail to climb the social ladder.
Why?
For recognition? For wealth?

No.
It’s so that even when they smirk in someone’s face, that person can’t say a damn thing about it.
The man in front of me suddenly turned away—his shoulders trembling with silent laughter.

When he finally turned back, his face was smooth, composed, and graced with a polite smile.
I didn’t need to ask who he was.
How could I not recognize him?

He was the male lead.
Lukaf… Lukaf Bar… something?
"Hey, Sir Lukaf?"

"It’s Lukas."
Lukaf—no, Lukas—gave me an incredulous look.
Well. What could he do? I was a noble lady. And a sick one at that.

"Ah, right. Sir Lukas. Can you help me out? My hair’s stuck, and I can’t get out."
Lukas took a step closer.
Just moments ago, he had been laughing to himself, but now, he wore a perfectly chivalrous expression as he placed a hand over his chest and inclined his head.

It was all very refined.
"I would be honored to assist, Lady Selina White."
"Much appreciated."

Lukas didn’t say a word as he worked to free my hair, and since I didn’t have anything to say either, I remained silent.
It took longer than I expected, and my eyelids grew heavy.
If you are reading this translation anywhere other than .net or SilkRoadTL, it has been stolen.

Lukas glanced down at the girl dozing off while leaving her hair in his hands.
Selina White.
Nineteen years old. The noble daughter of House White.

Infamous for her terrible personality.
The Duke, the Duchess, and even the young lord were all known for being gentle and composed. And yet, this one girl…
She coveted the title of heir.

That wouldn’t have been an issue if she had always aimed for the position. But the moment she heard her brother would be inheriting the dukedom, she threw a tantrum and insisted she should be the one to take it.
From there, she began tormenting Ariel, the imperial princess and Aaron’s lover—his likely future wife.
If Aaron married Ariel, his claim to the title would become unshakable.

Her harassment was childish and petty, the kind that left no concrete evidence. But no one in House White was foolish enough to ignore what was happening.
Lukas included.
The princess herself had chosen not to escalate the matter, so everyone simply pretended not to see.

Even so, Selina was never someone who fit within the dignity of the duchy.
Lukas glanced at her again.
But right now, she didn’t look like the insufferable woman he knew.

She had claimed to have lost her memories… Had she actually changed?
If this were the old Selina, she would have screamed to burn the entire thicket to the ground.
At the very least, this version didn’t seem like she would drag the duchy’s name through the mud.

Perhaps… this was an improvement.
“All done.”
I blinked my drowsy eyes open at the sound of his voice.

“Oh. Thanks.”
Lukas gave a small, polite smile. A very small, very polite smile.
I fixed my gaze on him, rifling through my memory of the book.

Lukas was supposed to fall for the heroine, Ariel, in the winter of Selina’s nineteenth year.
He would save Ariel from collapsing after Selina tricked her into waiting for Aaron out in the snow. That incident, combined with Aaron’s frustratingly blind devotion to his sister, would lead Ariel to leave him and fall in love with Lukas instead.
Right now, it was still spring.

That meant this man only saw Ariel as a pleasant academy acquaintance at most.
Selina’s bullying had been so childish and minor up to this point that Lukas probably only thought of her as some woman who was a bit of a handful.
That meant… there was still time.

He could still be convinced to attend Selina’s funeral and mourn.
Lukas, the duchy’s knight and a man hailed as a genius swordsman, crying at her funeral would make for a properly dignified death.
Yes, that should work. I wasn’t completely heartless—I couldn’t just leave Selina entirely forgotten.

If I played my cards right, I could lure the male lead into mourning for me.
Quality over quantity, right?
Satisfied with my plan, I nodded to myself.

“Hey, Sir Lukas.”
“Yes, Lady Selina?”
“Do you want to be friends?”

Unfortunately, my flawless scheme had one critical flaw.
My social skills were atrocious.
Back in school, I had never had time to make friends—I had to rush straight to my sibling’s hospital room every day.

It was the same in university.
And in the workplace.
And then, of course, there were my parents.

They never allowed me to have friends.
Your poor sibling is suffering in a hospital bed, and you dare to go out and make friends?
They had made it very clear how unacceptable that was.

I had been a scared child, too afraid to do anything but nod along obediently.
So, the only real relationships I’d ever had were with my coworkers and the teachers who excused my frequent absences.
In the end, the only way I had ever learned to socialize was through books.

And in books, it usually went something like this:
"Be my friend! Alright!"
“…I’m sorry, but that won’t be possible.”

Ah.
Turns out, books weren’t reality.
Lukas rejected me smoothly but firmly.

I felt my enthusiasm fizzle out immediately.
I had tried. I had briefly burned with the will to succeed.
But it was what it was.

“Oh. Well, that’s a shame.”
“…You’re not going to ask why?”
Lukas looked at me in mild confusion.

What a shameless man. You’re the one who rejected me, and now you want me to ask why?
But I had already given up.
And giving up quickly was a virtue.

I had no interest in hearing a long-winded explanation.
“No.”
I dusted off my skirt and stood up.

Then, without another word, I walked away.
My feet carried me toward the tallest structure in the duchy’s estate—the bell tower.
It had been catching my eye for some time.

As I walked through the gardens, every servant I passed stiffened nervously before bowing their heads.
I didn’t feel like acknowledging them, but I nodded slightly out of politeness.
With my gaze locked on the bell tower, I let my thoughts drift.

Memories stirred at the word friend.
You can’t make friends.
Look at your sibling. Don’t you feel bad? Don’t you feel guilty? And you dare to talk about friends? Friends?!

"I’m sorry… Mother…"
"Good. If you want to keep calling us Mother and Father, you’ll do as we say. Otherwise, we’ll throw you away."
"Yes… Father."

I remembered the little girl I used to be, nodding weakly in response.
I had never even realized it, but I still thought of them as my parents.
Even though they abandoned me the moment my sibling died.

Even though they threw me away without hesitation.
Even now, I still called them my parents.
…So was that why Lukas rejected me?

Because my parents had told me I couldn’t have friends, and I went against them?
That was a ridiculous thought.
And yet, I felt foolish for even considering it.

Ah.
It was all exhausting.