I’m a Villainess, Can I Die?

And so, my late-night walk with Aiden came to an end, and we stood side by side in front of the mansion’s entrance.
However, just as he seemed about to open the door, his hand resting on the doorknob, Aiden didn’t move.
What’s with him?

Just as I started wondering about his odd behavior, he let out a quiet sigh and turned his head toward me.
Since we had been walking side by side, I hadn’t noticed before, but now that I got a closer look, his complexion seemed a bit ❖ Nоvеl𝚒ght ❖ (Exclusive on Nоvеl𝚒ght) off.
Or maybe I should say his expression was dark.

Was he suddenly feeling unwell?
Did he get bitten by some weird insect or something?
I tilted my head, trying to figure it out by studying the shadowed contours of his face, but before I could, Aiden suddenly let out a soft laugh.

Oh, come on. I was worried about you.
Then again, from his angle, my head tilting back and forth probably looked… kind of like a bird’s.
I quickly straightened up, pulling my upper body back and standing tall.

Aiden, still faintly smiling, finally met my gaze properly.
Since his color had returned, it didn’t seem like he was actually sick.
Or maybe I had just misread the situation.

While I was getting caught up in pointless thoughts, Aiden’s soft lips parted as he spoke.
"It's fine. It will all be fine, my lady. No matter what happens, no matter what comes, in the end, we will regain peaceful days like before. So don’t worry about anything. Everything will be alright."
For something said so abruptly at the doorstep, his words stuck unnaturally deep in my mind.

I found myself repeating them over and over in my head.
It’s fine. It will all be fine.
It’s ridiculous, but hearing you say it almost makes me believe it.
Because you always tell me I’m fine when I’m not.

And afterward, somehow, I really do end up being fine.
"Mm. Thanks, Aiden."
I pulled up the corners of my lips, trying to show my gratitude.

Hopefully, the smile didn’t come out too crooked.
Watching Aiden’s warm expression slowly shift into a blank, dumbfounded look, I reached out and placed my hand over his, which was still resting on the doorknob.
I could feel his shoulders tense beneath his jacket, the slight tremble carrying down to his fingertips.

Oh.
This scene...
It was just like that time with Lukas.

But whatever.
I was only doing this because Aiden seemed to have forgotten how to actually open a door.
So it’s not exactly the same.

Yeah, that’s right.
With this impeccable self-justification, I applied force and turned the knob.
Since my hands were too small to completely cover his, it looked a little awkward, but at least the door finally opened.

The moment my objective was achieved, I immediately withdrew my hand—to prove my innocence, of course.
Then, subtly, I glanced at Aiden to gauge his reaction…
Only to find that he was still standing there, frozen stiff in the exact same posture, eyes dazed and unfocused.

What is this, a statue?
As I stepped inside, I gave his arm a few taps.
Snap out of it, Aiden. Are you planning to stand there all night with the door open?

That finally seemed to wake him up, and he hurriedly followed me inside.
Of course, Aiden tried to escort me back to my room.
For the last time, I am not nine years old. I am nineteen.

I am not a child who needs to be walked home inside my own house.
Once I firmly refused, Aiden nodded and headed toward his own room.
His quick acceptance was something I really liked about him.

"Aiden."
I called his name as I watched his retreating back.
At my quiet voice, he immediately turned around.

Like a dog perking up when its name is called, the reaction was quick and sharp.
Come to think of it, dog ears would probably suit him.
"Our backs, earlier. They probably looked good together. Even more than the one you saw back then."

That was all I said before turning around and walking away.
Or rather, I might have turned a bit too quickly.
For some reason, my throat felt itchy, and I couldn’t keep looking at his face any longer.

It was a strange night.
Shocking, exhausting, weird, but… not bad.
Or maybe it would turn out to be fine.

The next day, I picked up a paintbrush.
If I didn’t focus on something, my mind would fall into complete chaos.
The clarity I had gained from last night’s walk had completely vanished the moment I woke up.

Despite the looming possibility of war, here I was, idly painting.
Truly, I was the definition of a slacker.
I didn’t have anything particular in mind, so I just moved my hand out of habit.

As a result, the large canvas in front of me was filling up with haphazard brushstrokes, layer upon layer, creating nothing but a murky mess.
"Jane."
"Yes, my lady?"

Jane, perfectly fitting the role of a servant to a slacker, answered me from behind.
She was knitting, as usual.
"Is there a way to remember something you've forgotten? Or a way to pick the right answer from a hundred choices?"

"Hmm, I wonder."
She seemed to seriously consider my question, falling into silence.
Meanwhile, I continued painting.

Colors mixed together, darkening the canvas into something nearly unrecognizable—but oh well.
"Remembering something you’ve forgotten… or finding the right answer out of many… In the end, isn’t it all about luck?"
"Luck?"

Jane’s offhand remarks were occasionally quite insightful.
Like that time when she talked about the connection between laughter and happiness.
I paused my brushstrokes and turned around to listen properly.

Unlike me, Jane didn’t stop what she was doing.
She continued knitting, eyes still fixed on her work.
Oh.

Guess I was the only one giving her my full attention.
I subtly turned my body back to its original position, pretending as if nothing had happened, and resumed moving my hands.
For a moment, I thought I heard a small chuckle from behind me… but it was probably just my imagination.

"You know how sometimes the smallest things can trigger a memory? Like… looking at dirt and suddenly remembering you need to buy cocoa powder."
Dirt… cocoa powder.
Yeah, that made sense.

But right now, no matter what I looked at, nothing was coming to mind.
Maybe I needed to go out and see a bigger world.
Except by the time I got back, everything would already be over. Assuming I didn’t return as a corpse, that is.

It was a good answer, but it wasn’t helpful for me.
Nodding absentmindedly, I continued moving my hands.
I had no idea how much time had passed.

This translation is the intellectual property of .
By the time my canvas had turned completely dark, layered with endless strokes of paint, and my arms were beginning to protest in pain, a knock came at my door.
It was Ian.

His once-pale complexion had turned gray with worry, no doubt from the growing tension in the mansion.
"A priest can’t heal himself?"
"...Pardon?"

"Nothing. Just talking to myself. More importantly, what brings you here, Priest?"
Knowing our dear priest’s reserved nature, I decided to cut straight to the point.
Otherwise, he would stay silent and fidget for ages before speaking.

At my question, Ian hesitated for a moment, chewing on his lip before pulling out a letter from his sleeve and handing it to me.
Oh.
This situation… felt oddly familiar.

But now wasn’t the time for déjà vu.
I reached out and accepted the letter.
Since he gave it to me, I assumed I was meant to read it.

"To my dear son... Ian."
Right. Ian wasn’t actually the High Priest’s biological son… Ah, I almost forgot. My brain really hasn’t been working properly lately.
Dragging my wandering thoughts back, I resumed reading.

*"Are you doing well, Ian? There has been much unrest in the territory lately, and I sincerely hope you are staying safe and healthy.
The truth is, our temple was also attacked by monsters not long ago. Sadly, much of the historic structure has been destroyed. I cannot begin to express my sorrow and grief.
However, this too must be the will of Chief God Ariana.

Perhaps this is Her way of urging us, who have grown complacent within the temple, to go out into the world.
Thus, in order to honor Her will, we have decided to aid those who have been affected by this chaos.
Before that, however, it is only proper that we seek approval from the Duke’s household.

Ian, I would like you to inquire about our request for a visit.
Your father, always supporting you,
High Priest Vanessa."*
After finishing the letter, I skimmed over it again.

Nope.
Still didn’t get it.
Why exactly did the destruction of the temple suddenly mean they had to go out and help people?

I mean, sure, everyone has their own way of thinking, but this logic seemed… a little too convenient.
Whatever.
Some things are better left unexamined.

Folding the letter neatly back into its original shape, I handed it back to Ian.
He took it with an anxious expression.
"Why bring this to me? Wouldn’t it be better to show it to my brother or father… Oh, right. They’re both busy."

After perfectly executing my own question-and-answer session, I nodded in understanding.
"That’s part of it, but… the moment I saw the letter, I immediately thought of you, Lady Selina."
"Ah."

Probably because we had worked together to convince the High Priest before.
A kind of association effect, huh?
High Priest equals me.

Me equals High Priest.
…Wait. That sounded kind of weird.
But that wasn’t the point here.

"Alright. Since they’re offering help, I’ll talk to my brother about it."
"Thank you, my lady."
Hearing my positive response, Ian’s tense face gradually relaxed.

Leaning my chin on my hand, I casually observed his reaction.
Do priests really enjoy helping people that much?
Or was he simply happy that this would allow him to see the High Priest again despite the dangerous circumstances?

Either way, one thing was clear—I was definitely not suited to be a priest.
"Lady Selina, it is an honor to see you again. Thank you for agreeing to meet with me."
"You wish to help people. Of course, we should sit down and discuss it properly."

After a brief conversation with my brother, the High Priest’s visit was approved.
And so, Ian and I were once again tasked with welcoming him.
Since I was the highest-ranking person available with free time, I was the one handling today’s discussion.

Of course, in the end, my brother or father would have to make the final decisions.
In other words, today, I was just a placeholder figurehead.
The three of us sat in the parlor, exchanging brief pleasantries before getting to the main topic.

"You wish to aid the people in the territory?"
"Yes. The monster attack has destroyed much of our temple. Many have been left without shelter. However, this too must be the will of God."
What kind of god demolishes an entire building just to send a message?

Though I kept that thought to myself, I gave a polite nod to show I was listening.
"Now that we have lost our home, we are no longer bound by it. This grants us the freedom to move across the land, assisting those affected by the chaos and offering them spiritual guidance."
"...And you need the Duke’s permission for this?"

Why?
Couldn’t they just do it on their own?
Setting my teacup down, I tilted my head in question.

For a brief moment, the High Priest’s kind smile stiffened.
Did I say something wrong?
"Since we would be traveling throughout the territory, it is only proper to seek approval. Furthermore, the temple, though diminished, is still an institution.

While it no longer holds the power it once did, there was a time when it was regarded on equal footing with the Magic Tower.
It is customary for an institution seeking to provide aid to formally express its intentions."
Oh.

I see.
So basically, I had just been incredibly rude.
I had all but said, "You’ve lost all your influence, so no one really needs to bother with you."

No matter how much reality sucked, being dismissed so openly must have been unpleasant.
"Ah, I understand now. It’s about formality and protocol.
I apologize—I wasn’t very familiar with these things. If I was disrespectful, I sincerely apologize."

I offered my apology quickly.
After all, the faster you apologize, the less chance there is for lingering resentment.