The Villainess Does Not Want to Die

Chapter 31: A bit dizzy.

I walked down the paths between the garden, stopping near the chair where the Duchess was seated.

She seemed lost in thought and didn’t notice me until I approached her.

“Oh, you’re here.”

“I heard you called for me.”

“Yes, it seems this time Eileen delivered the message properly without causing trouble.”

Trouble? Eileen and I had rarely spoken enough to call it trouble.

Ah, was she referring to the time she was supposed to fetch me from class but instead threw an egg at my face?

I remembered going to the Duchess like that, unwashed and disheveled, and how startled she had been.

Eileen’s recent insistence that I call her “sister” came to mind, dredging up old memories.

Back then, she had said, “By the way, I heard you’re from the slums. Is that true?” And later added, “Don’t call me sister. I don’t want to be tied to someone like you, a halfwit.”

Why had those words hurt so much at the time? I remembered lying on my bed, sniffling quietly.

Now, though… well…

The Duchess’ voice snapped me out of my thoughts.

“Take a seat.”

The table had two long benches and six ordinary chairs. I chose a chair at a reasonable distance, not too far but within arm’s reach of her.

“What kind of tea would you like?”

“Narcissus tea, if you have it.”

She nodded.

“Of course. By the way, your breath carries a hint of herbs. While medicine is good for the body, overindulgence turns it into poison.”

The faintly sweet but sharp smell of herbs must have clung to me, even though I’d lightly sprayed perfume.

Instead of thanking her for her concern, I sarcastically quipped, “Oh, should I focus harder on smoking opium, then? Since you’d probably prefer I die young, I’ll make sure to speed things up, ha!”

“…Marisela.”

“This conversation feels a bit stale, doesn’t it?”

For someone who probably wished for my disappearance more than anyone else, I wondered if this was an enjoyable topic. Or was it bothersome that I might die happy and drugged?

Actually, it was more likely I’d waste away and die from malnutrition.

“Well, no worries. Even without the drugs, eating spoiled food daily will have me wasting away in no time.”

“What on earth are you talking about?”

The Duchess’ voice faltered, her words trailing off.

I didn’t answer. Judging from her reaction, it seemed the servants tormenting me hadn’t been acting on her orders. 

They must have simply been annoyed that someone they viewed as beneath them was treated as their superior.

Not that it mattered.

Whenever I wanted decent food, I just beat a few of them until they were half-dead and had them thrown out of the mansion. Within a week or two, though, the spoiled food would return.

The Duchess hesitated, pursing her lips as if to ask more questions. Instead, she stood and carefully prepared the tea. 

She placed narcissus petals and tea leaves in a cup, poured hot water into another to let it cool slightly, and then added the water to the tea.

The petals bloomed beautifully in the water, a soft yellow hue spreading. As the narcissus scent filled the air, she seemed about to add sugar but remembered I didn’t like sweet things. She handed the cup to me instead.

I took it, inhaling the fragrance first before taking a small sip. The subtle but fragrant taste lingered in my mouth.

“How is it?”

“It’s very fragrant. I can hardly believe it was sourced here.”

“That’s a relief. This time, I had it imported directly from the East on a trade ship.”

The Duchess dumped the used tea leaves into a large porcelain jar and brewed herself another cup with fresh leaves.

Discarding the leaves after just one or two brews—how extravagant. The headmistress at the orphanage would reuse cheap tea leaves countless times.

“So, why did you call for me?”

“Marisela, do you know how old you are this year?”

How old was I?

I rarely kept track of my age. Even on my birthday, there wasn’t a grand celebration like the ones for the eldest son, Libian, or Eileen. The Duke would just give me a small gift, and that was it.

In fact, I often received meaningless gifts throughout the year, so I seldom even realized it was my birthday.

Age had become something I thought about only when reminded. 

Time passing felt less like growing older and more like my body simply changing.

“I suppose I’m fifteen.”

“At your age, a young lady should start preparing for certain things.”

“I’m not sure what you mean.”

“It’s time to start finding you a suitable match.”

I paused to think about her words before bursting into laughter. Marriage? That was the last thing I wanted.

Looking at the woman in front of me, I couldn’t think of anything more dreadful.

It wasn’t that I had a beautiful, romantic notion of refusing marriage unless it was for love.

Who would respect me?

Who would cherish and protect me as if I were Alina?

A twisted, unpleasant, and difficult girl like me.

I voiced my thoughts to the Duchess, my tone dripping with disdain as I laughed.

“Ha! What man would want to marry someone as insufferable as me?”

The Duchess’ expression soured. Perhaps she couldn’t think of anyone who would want me either. Or maybe she just assumed I was being needlessly rebellious.

In this world, no matter how wretched a person was, marriage was an unspoken norm.

I would rather live quietly in a room with a piano. And when life became unbearable, I’d disappear to a place where no one could find me.

Of course, the Duke wouldn’t leave me alone.

“The world is vast, Marisela. Surely there must be one or two men out there. Even I, a modest Count’s daughter, ended up marrying your father.”

“Through money. An endless amount of money.”

That must be why the Duke, who seemed capable of little more than poring over documents, could afford to spend lavishly on me as well.

“Anyway, Marisela, I’m thinking it’s about time to introduce you to society. Eileen also… well, she entered last year, but hasn’t found a proper match yet.”

The Duchess muttered to herself about Eileen after saying this. Her voice was too soft for me to catch the details.

“……”

I didn’t respond and instead took another sip of tea. Then, placing my elbows on the table—a decidedly improper act—I began tapping my fingers.

Wouldn’t it be fitting if she slapped me for being rude? The lingering effects of the medicine dulled any pain I might feel, so it wouldn’t bother me much. I could create some chaos here and then run off to my room.

Instead of striking me, though, she refilled my empty cup with warm tea. The new tea was marigold; its color and scent told me it was calendula tea.

“Why not do as you once said? Marry me off to some poor farmer in a remote countryside. Or sell me off to some nouveau riche in exchange for a modest sponsorship. What use do I have for debuting in society, dancing at balls, and chatting with people my age?”

I was already famous, though mostly infamous.

Whenever I rode into town by carriage, I heard whispers.

“They say there’s a harlot’s daughter living at the Duke’s estate. Apparently, the Duke was so infatuated with the harlot that he took in her daughter and raised her as his own.”

“But the girl can’t seem to rid herself of her wretched and vulgar nature. She abuses the servants and sullies the honor of knights.”

“They say she even killed a knight she was assigned as a guard, treating him like a devil to do her bidding until he died.”

These rumors weren’t just whispered among the servants. Even when I ventured into town in plain clothes, I heard them.

The stories seemed to date back to when I first arrived at the Duke’s estate. For such tales to spread so widely, someone must have deliberately fanned the flames. And who else would have done so but the Duchess?

“You know what they call me.”

I had no intention of denying the rumors. After all, they weren’t entirely false.

I had killed a knight.

I had beaten servants, cut them with broken glass, and thrown them out of the estate.

Some of them had even lost their eyes or tongues because of me.

Why I did it didn’t really matter. A pitiful halfwit’s story wouldn’t entertain anyone. Only the fact that I committed such vile acts remained.

If I were to dance at a ball or make my debut in society, I knew how it would unfold.

There’d be a protagonist. Someone of lower status than me, with pitiful wealth, far less beauty, but infinitely more charm.

Despite trying to live quietly and without causing harm, I had already become the villainess of a grand tragedy.

Or maybe I had been a terrible villainess all along, and I was the only one who hadn’t realized it.

“Sell me off to someone suitable for an appropriate price. Whether I hang myself the night before the wedding or throw myself from a tower, I’ll make sure to disappear.

Father wouldn’t mind. He’s already done more than enough by taking me in and raising me.”

At that, the Duchess bit her lip. Her body began to tremble slightly.

I didn’t want to look at her, so I forced my gaze to the side.

I couldn’t tell how much time had passed, only that my tea had gone cold.

“I know… I know I’ve done terrible things to you.” Her voice broke the silence.

“You were just a child who knew nothing. But I… I took out my hatred for my husband on you. It’s no excuse, but that’s what I did.

How could I have struck the cheeks of such a small child so harshly?”

Tears welled in the Duchess’ eyes as she spoke.

Her face hadn’t changed much since I first met her, save for a few new wrinkles under her eyes and around her neck.

Despite her unchanging appearance, her words…

“No matter how much I resented my husband, I shouldn’t have done those things to you.

I shouldn’t have deliberately assigned you a dishonorable guard.

I shouldn’t have intentionally surrounded you with lazy, incompetent servants.”

Her self-recriminating confession, spoken with her usual precision, dissolved into tearful sobs.

“I… I turned a child into someone who speaks so indifferently of their own death.

Back then, I thought it was the ultimate revenge. I thought I would feel satisfied, even happy.

But why, why does it feel like this?”

“Marisela, if you would let me… I want to apologize.

I’m sorry. Please, I beg you, please stop speaking as if you don’t care whether you live or die.”

Her words trailed off, replaced by repeated pleas of “please.”

My head felt slightly dizzy. A sharp pain throbbed in my temples.

Surely, she was trying to kill me. Turning me into an opium addict—or had I already crossed that line?

I sipped my cold tea slowly before replying, my tone playful.

“I don’t particularly want to die. I do want to live. You could’ve said this a little sooner, though, ha.”

With that, I stood abruptly.

No, it might be more accurate to say I fled.

To me, the Duchess was someone who had to remain a villain until the day I died.

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