I'm a Villainess, Can I Die?-Chapter 100

Lukas took a soft cloth from the drawer beside his bed and began quietly polishing his sword.

From the scabbard engraved with the crest of the ducal family to the sharply honed blade.

He worked in silence—until suddenly, he burst out laughing.

"‘Well... I like you too.’"

That face kept replaying in his mind, and Lukas had to stop what he was doing. After laughing to himself for a while, he took a deep breath and picked the cloth up again.

He regretted confessing. Now that he’d been turned down, it hurt more than he’d expected.

Maybe it had been too soon. It had only been two or three months since he realized what he felt.

Of course, the feelings had been there before the realization. Still—two or three months was not a long time when it came to human relationships.

"Maybe... I should’ve waited longer."

As soon as the thought came, Lukas shook his head slowly.

No. That wasn’t it. He couldn’t afford to wait any longer. Two weeks—no, twelve days to be exact. Time would fly by, and soon he would be standing behind the Duke, leading the knights into battle.

He’d already told himself that lingering attachments and regrets would only weigh him down on the battlefield.

This way, he could march to war without hesitation.

In a place where life and death crossed constantly, he’d be able to fight without fear of losing his own.

To fight without regret, to die without unfinished business.

That was enough. If it brought him to that state, then the confession had fulfilled its purpose.

He was usually good at calculations—he wouldn’t let himself become overly emotional just before something this important.

In war, there should only be one thing worth protecting.

For him, that one thing was the Duke. His own life did not count among the things to be protected. If offering it up could bring victory, he would do so gladly.

He leaned his head back and stared at the ceiling. Ever since Selina had lost her memories, and he’d been assigned to protect her, he found himself looking upward often.

It was her habit, after all.

He’d always wondered what she was seeing in that sky, with that expressionless face of hers. So he’d started doing it too.

There was nothing on the ceiling. Just a plain, ivory-colored stretch of plaster. But today, it felt oddly hollow.

Yes, hollow.

Time passed mercilessly. Almost frantically.

For the next several days, knights, mercenaries, weapons, rations, funding, and supplies continued to pour in from all directions. In the midst of all the bustle, we managed to share dinner with the family once or twice more.

With the estate in such a state, the High Priest had finally declared he would return to the province to help the people—and just like that, the subjugation battle was only a week away.

Every single day now marched steadily toward that end.

“Hah...”

I had another nightmare.

Just before sunrise, in that hazy twilight hour, I woke with a start.

I wiped the sweat from my forehead and looked down at my trembling hands.

It wasn’t a dream about Selina. Or butterflies. Wait, I guess those are the same thing now... Anyway, it wasn’t one of those. Just an ordinary nightmare.

No, an intense nightmare.

A monstrous black thing, jaws open wide, chewing people up one by one while its blood-red eyes locked onto me.

Selfishly enough, the faster I woke up was always directly related to how close the people being eaten were to me.

“It’s just a dream... just a dream.”

The words tumbled from my mouth and circled back into my ears. In the empty room, only my own voice could offer comfort.

Human emotions are fluid things.

Even if you think you’ve shaped them firmly, they leak through the smallest cracks and find their way elsewhere.

Guilt and relief. Challenge and surrender. Hope and despair.

Even if you try to dam the flow with your hands, you can’t stop what seeps through your fingers.

And once the leaking starts, the crack grows, and before long it’s no longer a leak—it becomes a stream, a river, an ocean.

The closer the subjugation date came, the more my emotions tilted back toward guilt.

Guilt and anxiety had formed a pit in my mind—deep and dark. And each night, they visited me as nightmares.

The darkness opened its mouth, its tongue flickering—and I fell endlessly into it, until I finally opened my eyes.

In the dead of night, or like today, in that murky gray light before sunrise.

With trembling hands, I curled up and took deep breaths.

I couldn’t breathe. My head throbbed. My fingertips and toes were stiff and cold.

My body felt foreign, numb, like it didn’t belong to me anymore.

Again. It was happening again.

Forcing my frozen hands to move, I twisted my wrist and massaged the other palm. Even then, my ragged breathing sounded like a frightened animal’s.

I dragged myself up, barely steady, and crawled under the desk.

I didn’t know why. It was just... something I’d started doing lately.

Well—if I’m being precise, it was something I used to do all the time back in middle school. It had come back.

I hated the room. I hated the space. Being boxed in on all sides made me feel like I was trapped inside a tiny container. I didn’t want to see anything.

I didn’t want to hear. I didn’t want to feel. I just wanted to shrink into a corner, invisible and senseless, quietly fading away.

I wanted to hide from the world.

Maybe if I’d just erased everything again—emptied my heart, let nothing touch me, had no attachment to life—maybe then... maybe I’d be doing better now.

Seeing how I couldn’t even manage a single emotion... maybe I was never meant for happiness in the first place.

Every time I left even the smallest space open for joy, misery crept in and ate away at me like it had been waiting for the chance.

I sat hunched under the desk in the dark until the world began to brighten.

Only then did I crawl out.

And so began another day—just one week before the subjugation battle.

After lunch, I took a walk through the garden. It was a performative stroll.

If I stayed locked in my room too much, the others might worry. This was my way of showing them I was fine.

Honestly, no one could really be fine with the battle just a week away... but still, I didn’t want to leave anyone with even a sliver of concern. This was all I could do.

I couldn’t remember the cause. I had no power to act. So the only thing I could do... was this.

And it wasn’t just for the family.

It was for me too. To ease this guilt even a little. To fight off the anxiety just a little.

With everything finally prepared yesterday, the mansion had gone quiet again.

Well—except for the deafening shouts from the training yard in the distance. The garden echoed with them. But aside from that, there were no more people coming and going. No more chaos.

I closed my eyes as the sounds of those shouts rang out.

The crisp autumn air brushed against my face. The sun hung high above in the bright, open sky. I ➤ NоvеⅠight ➤ (Read more on our source) just stood there, eyes closed, mind blank.

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My thoughts felt foggy.

Ah. I want to crawl back into that box. Hide away quietly, forget everything I feel. Bury myself somewhere no one can find me.

“Miss.”

I opened my eyes slowly.

From looking at the sky too long, bright afterimages scattered across my vision.

I waited for my sight to clear, then turned my head.

“Aiden.”

"It’s okay. It’ll be okay."

This translation is the intellectual property of Novelight.

That phrase always played in my mind the moment I saw him. As if someone had hardwired a replay button into my head.

“Staring at the sky like that isn’t good for your eyes.”

“I had my eyes closed.”

“Still.”

He reached out and shielded me from the sun with his hand. I felt the harsh sunlight fade from my face.

I glanced at him from the side, then looked ahead again and started walking slowly.

Thinking about the shadow cast across my face, I walked on.

Aiden walked beside me in silence.

“Were you out on a walk too?”

“Yes. I was... feeling nervous.”

“Nervous? About what?”

His hand was still shading my eyes. I blinked at the fingers peeking into my vision, then looked down at the ground.

I saw the steady steps of the man walking in sync with me.

Even that seemed funny. Ridiculous, but... not bad.

Aiden said nothing. The silence stretched longer than I expected, so I looked up at him. His face was partially hidden in the shadow of his hand, but I could clearly see his slightly awkward expression.

What’s going on?

I stopped walking and took a step back. Startled, Aiden looked at me.

“What is it? Is it something I’m not supposed to know?”

The question burst out of me—blunt, even to my own ears.

But I couldn’t help it.

I didn’t want to beat around the bush or pretend I didn’t notice.

I was so tired of being kept in the dark. Of people telling me things only after the fuse had burned to the end.

In the end, I always had to face the explosion with no time to prepare.

...I'm sick of not knowing.

Aiden met my gaze, his eyes wavering. Then he stepped forward—closing the distance I’d put between us.

Carefully, quietly, but still keeping his hand over my head to block the blinding sun.

He came closer.

“The mages from the Tower are arriving today. Along with them, my mentor is coming too. I... I haven’t seen them in a long time, so I’m a little nervous.”

His gentle voice sounded like he was comforting a child.

And with that, the tension left my body. My head dipped.

Ah. What am I even doing right now. The real joke here... is me.

Unable to handle my own anxiety, I ended up unloading it on someone else.

I swallowed a dry lump in my throat. It burned. I gave a vague nod and began walking again.

Aiden continued to walk beside me.

“So, the mages are arriving today.”

Maybe because I’d been so wound up earlier, I actually felt a bit calmer now.

Like I’d finally looked my fear in the face. Like I’d finally let someone see it.

I hated that he saw how desperate I was... and yet somehow, I felt lighter.

Maybe I didn’t want anyone to know... but at the same time, maybe I did.

Well, whatever.

Aiden wasn’t someone who would go around sharing my worries. Even with my family.

He knew what I didn’t want.

And he wouldn’t do what I didn’t want.

“Yes. I’m supposed to escort them later.”

Beneath his outstretched hand, I tilted my head to look up at him.

He was smiling as he walked, looking straight ahead.

A face that shone like sunlight—filtered gently through the shadow of his hand.