I’m a Villainess, Can I Die?

Inside the rattling carriage, Lukas stared at Selina, who was fast asleep across from him.
It seemed today had been exhausting for her.

Earlier, she had been visibly uncomfortable in the carriage, shifting awkwardly in her seat. But now, she was leaning back against the chair, fast asleep. Every time the carriage jolted, her small head lightly bumped against the seat, yet she remained undisturbed.
Lukas gazed at her face for a long while before turning his head to the side. Though they had left the square, the towering clock tower was still visible in the distance.
Frowning slightly, Lukas pulled the window shut.

How long had they been traveling like this? He opened his eyes at the coachman’s announcement that they would soon arrive. Had he dozed off without realizing it?
Somehow, during his sleep, Selina must have reopened the window. The carriage was now filled with the deep red glow of the setting sun.
Through his still-blurred vision, he saw sky-blue eyes and wisps of pale blue hair fluttering weakly in the breeze.

Wrapped entirely in crimson light, she looked so perilously fragile that Lukas’ eyes widened fully in an instant.
“You’re awake?”
But the calm, monotone voice that followed left him momentarily stunned, blinking in slight disorientation.

What was that just now? Why had he reacted like that?
“Yes. And you as well, Selina.”
“I woke up a while ago. We’re almost there.”

“Yes, I heard.”
Selina continued to gaze out the window as she spoke.
Silence followed. Lukas felt as if he should say something, his fingers unconsciously fidgeting. The smile that usually came to him so effortlessly felt strangely stiff on his lips.

He didn’t know why, but an inexplicable sense of urgency pressed against him. He wanted to confirm her presence over and over again.
The image of her bathed in that dangerous, suffocating red light lingered in his mind. It wouldn’t go away. But what could he even say? It had been a long time since he had felt this unsettled.
Lukas followed her gaze outside.

The crimson sky was hauntingly beautiful.
It reminded him of an old memory—one from a childhood picnic with his parents, where he had once seen a sunset just like this.
A wave of dizziness suddenly washed over him, and he pressed his fingers against his temple. At the movement, Selina, who had still been staring out the window, turned her head toward him.
“What’s wrong?”

That was a good question. Why was he feeling this way? And more importantly—why was she like this?
Lukas swallowed back every word forming in his mouth, shaking his head slowly as he curved his lips into the familiar, relaxed smile he always wore.
“It’s nothing.”

At his response, Selina merely shrugged and turned back toward the window.
Now, he understood what that gesture meant.
Oh, really? Then never mind.

Her voice echoed in his head, detached and indifferent.
Lukas let out a quiet chuckle.
Yet, Selina, who had no interest in him, didn’t so much as glance his way, whether he laughed or not. She simply continued watching the world outside.

And Lukas, in turn, continued watching only her.
Just as the carriage was beginning to slow, Selina spoke.
“Don’t tell my family about what happened today.”

“Why?”
“I don’t want to worry them. It’s already enough as it is.”
Worry, huh. Lukas scoffed inwardly.

So she actually thought about things like that? That was surprising.
“I’ll think about it.”
This translation is the intellectual property of .

Once they arrived at the mansion, they went their separate ways. The first thing Lukas did was head to the duke’s study to report on the day’s events.
“Nothing unusual happened during the outing today?”
“No, Your Grace. Nothing of note.”

“…Ah, except for one thing.”
The duke, who had just sighed in relief, turned to look at him at those final words.
Go on, say whatever it is. I trust you. His eyes seemed to say as much.

That unwavering trust was something Lukas had always been grateful for.
As a child, that trust had been what made him pledge his entire being to House White.
So, in return, he wished that no one in the household would ever have to grieve. The duke, the duchess, the young master…

And now, even Selina.
“I met a priest I liked.”
After meeting with the duke, he was similarly held up by the duchess and Aaron, having to repeat the same words over and over again. Lying left a slight pang of guilt, but considering everything had ultimately worked out in the end…

Well, it wasn’t exactly a lie, was it?
Later that night, before going to bed, Lukas sat alone in his room within the mansion, holding a glass of wine.
The sky outside was dark, a crescent moon hanging in the vast expanse.

Swirling the deep red liquid in his glass, he watched as it clung to the inside of the glass before settling again.
Then, he slowly closed his eyes.
Sinking into the sofa, he absentmindedly spun the glass in his fingers, his mind drifting back to the memory beneath that crimson sunset.

“Mom! Dad! Hurry up!”
“Wait, Lukas! You know your mother isn’t feeling well—!”
A young boy with silver hair bounded excitedly across the sunlit hill, his laughter ringing through the air. Then, he sprinted toward his mother, throwing himself into her embrace.

The woman, despite her pale complexion, smiled warmly as she held him close.
“It’s all right. I felt good enough to come out today, didn’t I? Seeing you happy, Lukas—that’s the best medicine for me.”
“Look, Dad!”

"But you shouldn't trouble your mother too much. Come here."
The tall man extended a hand to the child, but the boy only pursed his lips and turned his head away—a clear sign of refusal. Seeing his stubborn expression, the woman smiled, and at the sight of her beautiful smile, the man also chuckled.
A brief evening walk beneath the sunset.

To Lukas, this was the most beautiful, the happiest memory of his life.
But that happiness had not lasted long.
"Mom! Mom!"

Lukas fidgeted anxiously as his mother was overcome with another fit of coughing.
His father needed to come home soon… but he wouldn’t return from work until well past evening.
The young boy could do nothing but grasp his mother’s frail hand and sob.

His father finally returned after the sun had set.
"Dad!"
"Lukas…"

The moment he heard the door creak open, Lukas ran to the entrance, crying uncontrollably. His father stared at him blankly for a moment before suddenly throwing down everything in his hands and rushing toward the bedroom.
"My love!"
That was how it was, day after day. Each one filled with uncertainty and fear.

Hunger was something he had long since learned to endure. Cold, too, was manageable.
He no longer cared that he had no friends his age.
Even the mockery—being called a "noble in name only"—or his father working under a false identity to put food on the table no longer made him sad.

So, please…
"Mom… you won’t leave me behind, will you?"
"Of course not. Where would I go without my precious son? Don’t worry. Mommy will get better soon."

His mother’s gentle fingers brushed his cheek. They were thin and bony from malnutrition, rough from years of hardship, and yet… they were so warm. So warm that Lukas couldn’t hold back his tears.
Then, one night, he awoke, his throat parched.
Stepping out of his room for a drink, he halted in front of his parents’ bedroom door.

They were talking—whispering, but with an urgency that even a child could recognize as grave.
"If Rosenta would only help us…"
"My love, we agreed to stop talking about this. You know as well as I do that Rosenta doesn’t consider us family anymore."

"But… but! How did our family end up like this? It was all because we used up everything to prepare for that child’s dowry! And that marriage—wasn’t it a scheme from the very start, meant to drain our family dry?"
"And yet… after everything, she still had the audacity to coldly tell us we were no longer her family, that we should never seek her out again… Ha."
"Louis, Lukas might hear us. I can endure this. So, please… don’t act recklessly."

Lukas clenched his fists outside the door. His small hands trembled with rage.
Rosenta.
That was his aunt’s name.

His father’s younger sister, who, like them, had silver hair. She had visited a few years ago, spoken with his parents behind closed doors, and then handed him a few silver coins before disappearing entirely.
Back then, he had been overjoyed at the unexpected gift.
But now… now he knew. That money had been theirs all along.

No wonder his parents’ expressions had seemed so odd as he beamed with excitement.
If they had just had that money… would his mother have been saved? Would her illness have been cured?
Lukas silently turned back to his room, his hands still clenched into fists.

The thirst that had woken him had already burned away, consumed by rage.
His mother’s exhausted face burned in his mind. His father’s weary figure leaving the house at dawn played over and over again.
Every blurred fragment of his childhood memories fed his anger. His body felt feverish with fury, leaving him restless, unable to sleep.

During the day, he wore a cheerful mask, pretending he knew nothing.
But at night, when he looked at his mother’s gaunt cheeks, tears constantly threatened to spill over.
Every night, his pillow was left damp, soaked with the tears he had failed to shed in front of others.

For several nights, he tossed and turned in silent fury.
Then, one day, Rosenta came to visit.
"Rosenta…"

"It’s been a while, brother. And Bella, you too. Oh, and Lukas—you’ve grown quite a bit. The last time I saw you, you must’ve been… seven?"
"Six," Lukas answered, his eyes burning with open hostility.
Rosenta, who had been casually greeting them, scoffed when she noticed the way he glared at her.

"Right. That means you must be eleven now. The perfect age to be rebellious."
Without waiting for an invitation, she strode into the house as if she owned it.
The three of them exchanged glances before reluctantly following behind her.

Rosenta was dressed in a deep red gown with a high, feathered collar, and an extravagant hat adorned with matching crimson accents.
Around her neck hung a necklace—set with a brilliant blue gemstone.
A noblewoman through and through.

If only she hadn’t existed, Lukas’ mother might have been standing there, healthy, wearing such finery herself.
Lukas gritted his teeth.
The thought consumed him—this woman had stolen everything that should have belonged to his mother.

"Lukas, what’s wrong?"
A soft voice broke through his rage, accompanied by a gentle touch on the back of his hand.
Only then did Lukas look up at his mother.

Her face was as pale as ever, but her eyes were filled with quiet understanding.
Forcing himself to lift the corners of his lips, he shook his head.
Even if his anger was boiling over, even if his heart was burning with resentment…

If his mother wanted to hide the truth, then…
"It’s nothing."