I'm a Villainess, Can I Die?-Chapter 130

Ian reached out to catch Selina as she collapsed. But in the end, his action was meaningless.

Selina didn’t fall.

It was as if something had caught her, holding her upright in that awkward posture.

Before Ian could even grasp what was happening, a warm breeze brushed against him.

“...What is going on here?”

A voice came from behind.

Ian stiffened as he turned his head. The green eyes he met were burning with rage.

Not long after Selina and Ian had left—

“Follow them.”

“...What?”

Aiden frowned at the low whisper.

Lukas shrugged in response to Aiden’s open display of displeasure.

Like watching a full-grown colt throw a tantrum. That’s how it felt to Lukas as he nodded toward where Selina and Ian had gone.

“They’re hiding something. Go find out what it is.”

Aiden’s gaze followed Lukas’s toward the backs of the pair.

“...Even if she is hiding something—if it’s the lady who’s hiding it...”

But Lukas cut him off and continued.

“She doesn’t look well, does she?”

“...I’ve noticed, too.”

That thin back. That weak gait. Her lips, slightly stiff the whole meal.

How could he not notice? But he’d pretended not to. Because she wouldn’t want anyone pointing it out in front of so many people.

That must’ve been why she’d taken Ian with her.

“Seems like she’s having trouble digesting again. Priest Ian went with her—it should be fine.”

“...Should it?”

Was that really all it was?

A shadow passed through Lukas’s eyes. The sight of Selina’s retreating figure kept overlapping with memories of his mother.

She had always been frail. Even when she fell ill, she had done her best not to show it in front of him.

Strangely, those ⊛ Nоvеlιght ⊛ (Read the full story) memories were surfacing again.

Lukas let out a deep sigh—one that escaped his lips before he even realized it.

Hearing it, Aiden turned to glance sharply at Lukas’s profile.

In those sunken eyes, Selina’s figure lingered faintly.

That heavy sigh, those heavy eyes...

Aiden ran his tongue over his dry lips.

Maybe it was Lukas’s suggestion—or maybe his own unease—but his anxiety started to build.

He hated following people. Detested it.

Especially her.

How cowardly it was, to follow behind someone.

But once born, anxiety didn’t fade easily.

“Aiden... you’re really... so constant.”

It happened sometimes. That pale face would rise in his mind.

That racing heart, pounding so violently it felt like it would shake him apart.

That quiet voice, echoing faintly.

And then—he’d need to see her. Right now.

Aiden stood.

He offered a smile to the curious gazes that followed him and said, almost like an excuse:

“It might be dangerous with just the two of them. I’ll go along. After all, I’m her guard.”

Only Lukas gave him a faint, knowing smile.

Aiden exhaled and turned toward the path.

And now—

“Sir Aiden.”

“Priest Ian. What’s going on here?”

Ian stood frozen, rooted to the spot. His eyes wouldn’t focus.

Aiden saw his gaze flick downward.

He followed it—and saw the pool of blood on the ground.

Aiden stopped in his tracks.

Ian quickly moved, trying to block the view, but it was too late.

“...Sir Aiden?”

Aiden’s hair stirred—not from the wind, but from the warmth emanating off of him.

He didn’t speak.

His fingers, frozen in place, began to tremble.

“My lady...”

His voice cracked with tears.

As Aiden staggered forward, Ian stepped back. That one step obscured Selina’s form from view. Aiden’s narrowed eyes bore into him.

“Step aside.”

“I can’t.”

“Priest. I don’t understand what’s happening. Step aside.”

Ian shook his head.

He couldn’t meet Aiden’s watery gaze.

He couldn’t look at Selina, barely upright, supported only by the wind.

He could only stare at the ground.

“...Priest Ian.”

Aiden called his name through clenched teeth.

“...The young lady... asked me to keep it secret.”

That hurt more than anything.

That was the cruelest part.

She asked for secrecy.

He couldn’t tell.

She wasn’t... in any state to be told.

A pool of blood on the ground, her lips stained red, eyes closed.

A priest guarding her secret.

Aiden had lived through too many hard years. He knew what a bad situation looked like.

And this—this wasn’t just bad. This was dire.

He tilted his head up. Between the trees, a patch of blue sky shimmered.

He’d meant to hold back his tears—but his eyes betrayed him.

“...That puddle doesn’t look like something you can hide.”

“...She said she would tell them after the trip. She begged me... with everything she had.”

Aiden’s lips parted—then closed again.

He had been at the duchy for ten years.

Almost half his life.

She had been his pain, his rage... and also his joy. His happiness.

His first love.

The only one.

In a world full of darkness, she had been his light. His color.

Yes. She was his life. His only...

And she had asked. Earnestly.

How could he force the truth out of her?

He ran a hand roughly down his face, then pressed his palms together.

His trembling hands quivered so violently, even Ian could see it.

Eventually, he nodded.

He wouldn’t ask further.

Ian bowed his head in silent thanks.

They said nothing more.

Aiden wiped away his tears and walked past Ian. Ian didn’t stop him this time.

Aiden knelt beside Selina and gently wiped the blood from her lips.

The handkerchief turned crimson in his hands.

“I’ll carry her. Let’s say it was a case of overeating.”

“Thank you, Sir Aiden.”

Aiden didn’t reply.

He simply lifted Selina onto his back.

As he did, he saw a faint line creased between her brows.

Biting his lip, Aiden reached toward the traces she had left behind.

The wind stirred, kicking up dirt and covering the bloodied earth.

He watched the evidence vanish beneath the soil, then began walking.

Steady.

Eyes fixed ahead.

No trembling. No tears.

Only the sleeping Selina on his back—he carried her in silence.

This place...

Through barely open lids, I saw a familiar ceiling.

No, not unfamiliar.

This was my room in the capital—the same one I slept in last night.

I’m... thirsty.

My throat felt raw, dry. Like sandpaper.

Right. I coughed up blood. I remember that now. I remember the puddle.

Blood. Right. I collapsed. What happened after that?

I sat up quickly—and my head throbbed in protest.

It felt like it might split open. My temples screamed, and the pounding wouldn’t stop.

Too strong to blame on low blood pressure.

“...Haah.”

A sigh, almost like a groan, escaped me.

I blinked slowly, then gave up trying to wait out the pain and stood.

And froze.

A man stood with his back to the door.

Not bowed, not turned.

His gaze was fixed directly on me.

In the dim light, his face looked like a flickering candle—unstable, fragile.

The red hue cast over him—was that candlelight? Or tearstains?

“...Aiden.”

Aiden didn’t answer.

He just looked at me with that same guilt-laden expression I’d seen before.

Why are you looking at me like that? As if you’re the one to blame?

Questions rose to my lips but didn’t come out.

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“...I told everyone it was indigestion. That you fainted from it.”

My heart dropped at his voice.

But only for a moment.

Because the wind that had touched me yesterday had been so warm.

I’d hoped.

Deep down, I knew.

“It wasn’t a dream... That breeze. I knew it. It was too warm to be.”

“...My lady.”

“You always have good timing. Whenever I’m about to fall, you catch me. That’s why my knees are still—”

“My lady!”

The words burst out of me—and stopped just as suddenly.

His voice had been too loud. Too full of tears.

Our silence cut like glass.

One small move, and we might both shatter.

“...How much do you know?”

It was me who finally broke it.

Aiden’s shoulders trembled at my quiet question.

“Priest Ian kept his promise. I only saw the blood. That’s all. So... if you want to hide it, you can.”

So Ian kept it secret, huh.

Of course he did.

He was always so... earnest. That’s why I trusted him.

I smiled faintly, thinking of the trouble he must’ve gone through.

My lips stung.

Like someone with no blood left in their veins.

When blood stops flowing... the mind goes numb too.

If I wanted to keep it a secret, Aiden wouldn’t press.

But... my numb mind made my lips move on their own.

“...I’m scared.”

Yeah. I’m scared.

“I’m scared you’ll pity me. That I’ll start hoping for something I shouldn’t. That you’ll tell my family, and I’ll have to spend what’s left of my life locked away like some dying thing...”

Carrying the weight of everyone’s sorrow on my back. Day after day.

Aiden said nothing.

His hollow gaze felt like a silent rebuke. I turned away.

At the edge of my vision was my hand—my pinky, with the ring still on it.

“Me...?”

His voice came slowly, as if my question wasn’t even a question at all.

I turned back, startled.

His shoulders still trembled.

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But his face—was serious. Without even a trace of a lie.

“I’ll do whatever you want, my lady. If you want me to pretend not to see... I will.

As for hoping for the impossible... I can’t promise that.

Because hope... is something you cling to because you can’t let it go.

But everything else...”

I rose to my feet like I was in a trance.

My legs gave out beneath me and I sank to the floor.

Aiden flinched—but didn’t leave the door.

One tear traced down his cheek.

“Whatever it is... I’ll do it. Because I love you.”

His voice drifted into my ear.

A moment ago, my head had felt like it was splitting. But now, with that warm, firm voice... I forgot the pain. Forgot everything.

I slowly reached out my hand.

He watched me in silence.

“Help me up, Aiden.”

At last, he moved.

He walked toward me. Eyes full of tears.

God, he really is a crybaby.

His large hands wrapped around mine.

“Where would you like to go?”

“The window.”

He moved to bring over a chair, but I shook my head.

Instead, I sat right down in front of the large window.

He brought over a blanket and draped it over my shoulders.

“Sit.”

I patted the floor beside me.

He obeyed—just like a puppy.

Come when I call, sit when I say...

A small smile escaped me.

I leaned in.

Until my face touched his shoulder.

My head had started throbbing again, and I needed something—someone—to lean on.

No. That was just an excuse.

I leaned on him because I wanted to. Because I wanted to be close to him.

Just for now... I would be selfish. Forget the confession. Forget the rejection. Forget everything.

Just you and me. Like before.

Or... just me, who loves you.

“They must’ve been shocked.”

“They turned pale. Your family nearly called the doctor—we had to stop them.”

“Really? Thank you...”

It was quiet.

The moon was bright.

Even though I bled, even though I passed out and spent half the day unconscious... the moon shone just as brightly as ever.

“They said... it’s a rare, incurable illness. I’ve got three weeks left. There’s no cure.”

I didn’t mention the High Priest’s black magic. I was afraid he’d go searching for a cure. That he might even find one. That he’d risk everything to save me.

So I left that part out.

It wasn’t a lie, after all. It was incurable.

“I won’t tell my family until the trip is over. No—truthfully, I want to put it off longer. You know how they are. The moment they find out, they’ll do nothing but cry. And I don’t want that. I want my last days to be peaceful.

You know I love peace, right?”

Aiden didn’t answer.

But I could hear his breathing—rough, heavy.

“Remember how I used to spend all my time in bed? That was peaceful too, wasn’t it? I want that kind of life. Just quiet. And then, I want to fall asleep like that. So...”

My eyes hurt.

The moon was too bright. Looking at it too long stung.

Behind my eyelids, the world was smeared with color. Blurred silhouettes of stars and moonlight lingered.

Like that blur, my thoughts scattered.

What was I saying?

What was I trying to say?

My mind went completely blank.

And then—

“...I love you.”

His breathing stopped.

I felt him shift—he must’ve turned to look at me.

What kind of expression was he wearing?

What kind of eyes?

My checklist was a disaster.

I didn’t have the strength to draw anymore, and the trip I planned to be happy ended in blood.

Only four items on my list, and I’d already failed two.

Or three, now, counting this one.

When I wanted to draw flowers, I didn’t hold back.

When I wanted to draw the night sky, I didn’t hold back.

So when I wanted to say I loved you... I couldn’t stop myself.

“I’m going to die soon. I’ll stay this age forever. I’ll be forgotten, piece by piece. And still... I love you.”

My eyes trembled behind closed lids.

Was it fear? Guilt? Hope? I didn’t know. Everything tangled together and made my face twitch.

A rough palm touched my cheek.

Your hand—shaped by years of work. As warm as the tears you shed for me.

Your thumb brushed beneath my eye.

I hadn’t cried.

But you did it anyway. As if I had.

My throat tightened. I clenched my eyes shut and held my breath.

“Was that... a confession?”

Your damp voice drifted down to me. I smiled at the sound.

“You’ll regret this.”

“I know.”

“You’ll cry a lot.”

“I know that too.”

“...If you’re still okay with it...”

I nodded, just a little.

And then I felt your forehead press gently against mine.

Cold, broken me—and warm, weeping you.

Forehead to forehead.

You cried.

And I smiled.