I May Be A Villainess, But I Won't Live My Life That Way - Chapter 4

“TL Note: Please note that Ricardo’s last name is Winkaiser and not Wensbury.“

Chapter 4

As soon as I returned home, I rushed to my room. I pulled a book from the shelf, needing to confirm whether what I had read was certain or just a déjà vu.

“Because no other dog can replace that one. It’s unfortunate to be someone’s replacement.”
Ricardo replied.

“Th-this! This is bad!”

I checked the passage in the book and, without realizing it, I slammed the book down with the most severe curse I could muster.

My memory was accurate. If I were stupid, I wouldn’t have remembered so precisely!

“Does that mean this book becomes some kind of prophecy?”

I glared at the book, biting my lip.

It would have been better if it were a person and not a book.

If it were a person, then when I glared, they would have undoubtedly trembled in fear and given some response out of sheer fright. But because it was a book, there was no change whatsoever.

“There’s no way. I’m not a villain. It’s ridiculous. It’s just a book!”

I grabbed the bookshelf in front of me. Feeling the texture of the paper rustling in my hands, I yanked the shelf.

I wanted to tear apart this absurd book.

“Huh?”

However, the book didn’t even flinch.

“Th-this! Thiiiiis!”

I tried to tear the book apart by biting it with all my strength, but the result was the same.

Have I become so lazy in my horseback riding lately that my strength has weakened?

No, even if I’m a delicate noble lady, I should be able to tear a book at least, right?

“Well then, burn and be gone!”

I threw the book directly into the fireplace, which was warming up the room. No matter how sturdy it looked, it’s just paper, right? Can it resist fire?

I scoffed at the arrogant book, watching it burn.

1 minute.

2 minutes.

5 minutes.

10 minutes…

“Why isn’t that burning!”

The book, clearly made of paper, showed no sign of catching fire. It just lay there comfortably on the flames as if enjoying a bonfire.

When I retrieved it with the tongs next to the fireplace, the book came out unscathed, without a single burn mark.

“This is ridiculous. Where can you find a book that doesn’t burn? Isn’t it made of paper?”

I bit my lip, looking at the perfectly intact book.

No way…

I flipped through the bookshelves. There was no trace of any creases. Despite my attempts to tear the book just a while ago.

I could still feel the crinkle of the paper in my palm, and yet the book was standing straight as if it had never been touched.

“This is unbelievable….”

Now, there was no choice but to admit it.

This wasn’t an ordinary book.

“If, if the story unfolds as it does in this novel….”

Soon, they would meet. At the St. George’s festival.

Their first meeting wasn’t fateful or romantic at all.

The country girl, mesmerized by the festival in the capital, encounters a pickpocket. When Ricardo catches the thief, their paths cross.

With a few chance encounters, they fall deeply in love, a passionate love affair.

The obstacle to their beautiful love is none other than Ricardo’s fiancée and the ruthless villainess, Bianca—me.

Obsessing Ricardo, hating Maria, and jealousy fuel one crime after another, culminating in an attempt to poison Maria.

Eventually, all the evil deeds are exposed. I lost my life to Ricardo’s blade.

“…No.”

Whispering the novel’s ending in silence, I muttered, “I don’t want to die.”

Why should I die when I have a beautiful appearance, immense wealth, and a high position?

“I don’t want to die like that.”

I quietly closed the book.

The chaos that had clouded my mind until a moment ago was slowly settling like sediment.

Fortunately, the novel had not even begun; St. Georges Day, the novel’s starting point, was still ahead.

“There must be a solution.”

To find that way, I opened the book again, albeit horrified.

Hoping that there must be a hint in there somewhere.

***

Knock, knock.

“Come in.”

The door opened, and two maids entered, carrying a basin of water.

I had been sitting at the table reading the book and quietly closed it, allowing them to attend to my grooming.

It was a book that I had previously closed halfway through in anger, but this time I read it all with cold eyes.

Any mention of me or passages that involved me were read thrice.

The depiction of me in the book portrayed a self-centered woman, deluded into thinking Ricardo loved her. I spoke recklessly to those around me, especially looking down on those of lower status.

Moreover, I was described as excessively luxurious, believing myself to be the most beautiful in the world. I considered disagreement with me a sin.

As the novel progressed and Ricardo and Maria’s love deepened, I seemed to veer toward the behavior of a nearly insane woman.

“Miss, what dress would you like to wear today?”

“Anything.”

Although I chose the dress for special occasions, I wasn’t particularly finicky about clothes in general. I had preselected only those that suited my taste, so anything I put on looked good.

With such an easy-going personality, was I a villainess?

“What about your hair, Miss?”

“Just brush it.”

Even a simple brushing made my hair silky. I combed it a hundred times every night, treated it gently as if handling a baby when washing it, and used the best hair oil.

For my smooth and delicate skin, I used top-quality products, paid special attention to avoiding sun exposure, and even carefully managed my eating and sleeping habits.

That’s how I diligently cultivated my beauty.

In the mirror, I saw a beautiful me. What could I do about it?

“Miss, what jewelry would you like to wear?”

“This one and that one.”

I chose a sapphire set from the jewelry box. It was a precious item my father gave me as a seventeenth birthday present. However, besides this one, I had about seventy more sets of jewelry.

So what if I spend money when I have it?

I chuckled to myself. Some aspects of Bianca in the novel seemed strange even to me. Some parts distorted basic facts into odd interpretations.

“Miss, what shoes would you like to wear?”

“Shoes….”

Looking at some already chosen shoes, my gaze fell on the maid standing nearby. She was the one who chose an absurd pair of shoes yesterday when I asked about it.

“You.”

“M-me?”

“Didn’t I say yesterday that those shoes were pretty?”

I pointed to the white court shoes. The girl’s face turned as pale as those shoes.

“I’m sorry, Miss. I made a grave mistake.”

Suddenly, the maid knelt on the floor in apology. I, who had only asked a question, found myself awkwardly receiving her bow.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry, Miss.”

For some reason, the maid seemed on the verge of tears again.

What did I do? I simply asked if those shoes were pretty.

“Please don’t fire me. My mother passed away early, and my father is currently bedridden with a leg injury. If I lose my job now, there won’t be anyone in our house who can earn money.”

…I didn’t ask for all this.

“I’m at an age where I should be growing well, but because we can’t eat properly, all five of my younger siblings are short. The youngest one cried all night yesterday, saying they were hungry.”

…I didn’t ask for this.

“If I lose my job, all seven of us in the family will starve to death. Please don’t fire me, Miss.”

The maid pleaded with tears streaming down her face. I had no intention of firing her.

“Are those the shoes you said were pretty yesterday?”

I pointed to the white court shoes once again.

“…Yes, that’s right.”

As if she had heard a death sentence, the maid finally answered, tears flowing.

“Today, I will wear those shoes.”

Another maid, who had been anxiously standing by, quickly brought the shoes and kneeled in front of me, helping me put them on.

Yesterday, they were the worst combination with the red dress, but today, with the yellow dress, they somewhat matched.

“It’s fine.”

Looking at my reflection in the mirror, I muttered. Turned to look at the maid, she was still looking at me with a dumbfounded expression, tears in her eyes.

“Since you chose shoes that match, give a silver coin to that girl.”

“…Huh?”

“…What?”

The maid who had been trying to gauge my mood, and the one who had been crying, both looked at me with dumbfounded expressions.

With such dumbfounded expressions, if I tell the butler to give silver coins to that girl, they probably won’t believe it.

“Never mind. I’ll go and tell him. I was planning to meet the butler anyway. You, what’s your name?”

“P-P-Panya.”

“Your name is Panya?”

Even for a commoner, that name sounded too strange.

“Oh, yes. It’s Panya! Panya Lizolde!”

Panya vigorously corrected her name, shaking her head.

“Alright, Panya. Make sure to get the silver coins from the butler later.”

“Thank you! Thank you, Miss!”

“Sure.”

“Thank you, Miss!”

“Sure.”

“I’ll never forget this kindness!”

“That’s enough. Can you please call the butler to my room?”

Cutting off Panya’s endless expressions of gratitude, I decided it might be a whole day of receiving greetings from her. If that happened, she might not even get the silver coins.

Luckily, Panya nodded and, with tearful eyes, left with the other maids. After a while, the butler stood in my room on their behalf.

“You called for me, Miss?”

“I’d like you to investigate something.”

“Whose background would you like me to look into?”

The middle-aged man, who had served the Croft for generations, was comforting because he didn’t show any surprise at my request.

A person with the surname Croft was his master and god, someone to serve unconditionally.

In return, the Croft placed absolute trust in him, generously sharing their wealth and power.

“Maria Bellona.”

I told the butler the name of the protagonist in the book I had read.

“It seems like a name I’ve never heard before.”

“She is a commoner woman from a province called Ancini.”

“A commoner woman?”

He raised an eyebrow as if genuinely surprised.

If he knew what I was going to say next, his eyebrows might touch the crown of his head.

“Smile Love”