I’m a Villainess, Can I Die?

Knock, knock.
A restrained, measured knock echoed through the room.

I had heard it so many times that I could now identify people just by the sound of their knocking.
A new realization.
Not surprising, though. He had basically been clocking in at my room every day.

“Come in, Sir Lukas.”
The doorknob turned, and Lukas stepped inside, looking oddly surprised.
“How did you know it was me?”

His expression remained calm, his ever-present natural smile in place.
I turned back to the mirror.
Maybe I should try smiling today.

How does one do it?
I lifted the corners of my lips with my fingers.
…Weird.

Not just weird.
It looked disturbing.
Should I ask Lukas for lessons?

“You’ve knocked on this door so many times I’d be blind not to recognize it by now.”
“…An honor, truly.”
I shrugged.

Which meant: Just get to the point and leave.
“I’ll be escorting you today. You probably haven’t heard yet.”
“Oh wow. So fast with the news.
But why you? I already have Aiden.”

Lukas closed his eyes for a brief moment before answering.
“My lady, he is a servant.
No matter how close he may be to you, nobles will not look kindly upon a young lady escorted by a mere servant.”

“…Wow. That’s just…”
Nobles? Their precious social norms?
Would someone die if a commoner showed up at a high-class party?

“That’s so garbage.”
Lukas didn’t frown, but his expression was… oddly complicated as he looked at me.
“Oh, I meant the nobles, not you, Sir Lukas.”

“But we are nobles, my lady.”
“Then I guess we must be garbage too.”
Lukas’ lips curved into a slow, sharp grin.

Man, for a male lead, he sure smiles like a villain.
His previous smiles had been fine, but this…
Yeah, I should not learn how to smile from him.

He chuckled lightly, his voice unusually bright.
“Seems that way.”
An awkward silence fell between us as we stood there, staring at each other.

What? If you’re done talking, just leave.
Another knock broke the tension.
“…Aiden.”

Lukas hadn’t been expecting her response.
“I’ll be escorting you today. You probably haven’t heard yet.”
“Oh wow. So fast with the news.

But why you? I already have Aiden.”
For a moment, he was struck by the contrast.
The old Selina would have insisted on having his hand for an escort.

Now, she was casually suggesting her personal servant.
Interesting.
“My lady, he is a servant.

No matter how close he may be to you, nobles will not look kindly upon a young lady escorted by a mere servant.”
“…Wow. That’s just…”
Selina trailed off, her gaze drifting into the air beside her.

Her face remained blank, but it was clear she was imagining something.
Lukas watched her in silence, wondering what kind of thoughts were running through her mind now.
Then, in that same calm, indifferent tone, she said:

“That’s so garbage.”
Lukas had to fight the urge to laugh.
Because it was funny.

No—beyond funny.
He couldn’t tear his eyes away from her as she casually voiced exactly what he had always thought.
He had grown up in a poor, insignificant baron’s family, subjected to constant discrimination by other nobles.

His father had once joined a monster subjugation force—because dangerous tasks were always handed to lower-ranking nobles.
Of course, in the end, that campaign had led to the Duke and his father forming a favorable connection, and Lukas himself had gained the Duke’s sponsorship.
But the instant he had the Duke’s support, those same nobles had changed their tune.

Smiling to his face, whispering behind his back.
Pretending to be friendly while secretly seething with envy.
Nothing had changed about him except for the fact that he was now backed by House White.

Garbage.
That was what he had thought as a child.
And as he grew older, that feeling had only deepened.

Hypocrites.
People who loved their little hierarchies.
Who enjoyed groveling before the powerful, shoving the weak into danger, and resenting anyone who gained even the slightest advantage.

People who had nothing but titles and money, yet acted as if they were gods.
And yet—
He had learned to smile among them.

Because he didn’t want to be a burden to House White.
Because this life was far more comfortable than the one he had before.
And in the end…

Once he had climbed high enough, he had no intention of going back down.
So he had embraced the role.
This translation is the intellectual property of .

Became just another garbage noble.
And if he was going to do it, he would do it well.
He had perfected it—

The gentle mask, the polite words, the strategic smiles.
Always smiling—while hiding poison beneath his tongue, like a viper.
That was how he had chosen to live.

But hearing his own thoughts spoken out loud by someone else…
It made something hot boil in his chest.
He had always tried to be honest with the Duke, the Duchess, and Aaron.

Yet even with Aaron—his closest friend—there were moments when he slipped into performance.
Did he even remember what his real smile looked like?
What it felt like?

At this point, he wasn’t sure if he even knew when he was acting or not.
And just days ago, Selina had looked him in the eye and said:
“Stop acting. It’s obvious, and it’s uncomfortable.”

So now, with a half-smirk, he simply responded:
“Seems that way.”
Lukas let his lips curve up naturally as he dug through the blurry, distant memories of his childhood.

Was this a sense of kinship with someone similar to him?
Or was it the thrill of meeting someone who could see straight through him?
Whatever it was—

Who cares?
Right now, he was enjoying himself immensely.
Meanwhile, Aiden hesitated in front of the door.

The atmosphere inside was… not good.
Why do I always end up in these situations?
He couldn’t go in.

But he couldn’t exactly leave either.
With a quiet sigh, he took a few steps to the side and leaned against the wall.
The conversation inside lingered in his mind.

"It’s garbage."
Aiden had thought that about himself before.
No—he had been garbage.

A beggar on the streets.
Scavenging for scraps.
Getting beaten like a dog.

Until the day she saved him.
A young Selina had reached out a hand to him, and for a moment, he thought she was an illusion.
Aiden had once picked up a torn storybook as a child.

It told the tale of a poor woman who met a rich prince and lived happily ever after.
For just a brief moment, he thought—
Maybe this is my fairytale.

Maybe he would be taken in by this beautiful girl from a noble house.
Maybe he would be treated like an aristocrat, finally living a comfortable life.
…Of course, that naive hope shattered instantly.

In reality, his role in the White Duchy was not as some cherished guest—
But as her personal servant.
More specifically—

The punching bag.
A noble young lady, beautiful as a princess.
A servant, no better than a slave.

Fairy tales never mentioned that beauty doesn’t equal kindness.
Fairy tales were just illusions.
Reality is cruel.

Day after day, the insults rained down.
So did the beatings.
He hated her.

He resented her.
But then—
When the winter winds howled outside the window, when the cold rattled against the glass—

He remembered that she had saved him from that very fate.
And so, he endured.
Because at least here, he didn’t have to sleep on frozen streets.

At least here, he had a place of his own, even if it was just a small corner.
If he left, that horrible past would become his future once again.
But then, when he turned seventeen—

He found himself asking:
What’s the difference between my life now and back then?
He still lived by pleasing others.

Still bowed his head.
Still endured beatings and insults.
Still ignored his pride, because money mattered more.

…What was the point?
If he said that out loud, people would laugh.
A street rat, a filthy orphan, taken in by a noble family—

And still daring to complain?
They would spit in his face for being ungrateful.
But the nights spent wrestling with that confusion, that hollow emptiness, stole his sleep.

Then, one day—
The day Aaron graduated from the Academy as the top student—
Selina trashed her room.

And, as always, Aiden was caught in the middle.
"Get out! I don’t want to see your disgusting face!"
He knew—

Her rage wasn’t directed at him.
But he also knew—
That those in power always threw stones downward.

"Y-You useless piece of trash!"
A small jewelry box flew at him, striking his forehead before clattering to the floor.
Drip.

Red droplets splattered onto the ground.
Across from him, Selina was shaking violently.
"P-P-P… Blood…"

Oh, so you can throw things, but you can’t handle the sight of blood?
Aiden smirked.
A street rat had to survive in the duchy, no matter what.

"Are you alright, my lady?"
"Y-Your forehead… it’s…"
"I’m fine. But if I keep standing here like this, you’ll only be more frightened. I’ll take my leave. I’ll send someone else to assist you shortly."

With that same smile, he stepped out of the room, closing the door behind him.
Then, out of sight—
His trembling hands curled into fists.

He wiped his forehead roughly, his palm coming away soaked in red.
More than I expected…
His clenched jaw quivered.

Back in his own room, he stood before the mirror, letting out a silent scream.
And for the first time, he saw it.
The soundless cry—

Had become magic.
Dark flames circled around him, flickering, twisting.
Like they were waiting—

Ready to burn everything to the ground at his command.
That day, he made a decision.
…To kill her?

…To take revenge?
He couldn’t remember.
The only thing that was certain—

Was that he had suppressed the flames.
He never told anyone that he could use magic.
And from that day forward—

He kept his head down.
Again and again, he bowed, lowered himself—
To cling to the White Duchy.

To never return to the streets.
And yet—
"Then I guess we must be garbage too."

He could still picture it—
Selina’s detached face, her hollow voice uttering those words.
It made him…

Laugh.
She had never been a beggar.
And yet, she said it so casually.

It felt strange.
Not bad.
Not good.

Just off.
Like Selina wasn’t Selina anymore.
Aiden didn’t know what to call that feeling.

But he decided he would think about it later.
And with that, he knocked on the door.