I'm a Villainess, Can I Die?-Chapter 94

She rubbed her arm and felt something damp against her palm. Thinking it was sweat, she wiped her palm against the blanket a few times and touched it again, but the dampness was still there.

It didn’t feel like sweat.

To figure out what the dampness was, she sluggishly got out of bed and lit the nearest candlestick.

The solitary flame flickered precariously in the dark room.

Her eyes were drawn to the candlelight shadows stretching across the room before she snapped out of it and lifted her sleeve to check her forearm.

As expected, her sleeve was slightly wet.

It wasn’t even enough to properly call it “wet,” but people say even a bit of dew counts as being wet.

Maybe one or two drops? She ran her fingers over the faint grayish stain on the white nightgown a few times.

“What... is this?”

What could this be?

Judging by the clock, it had been about four hours since she fell asleep. Which meant that if she got this on her clothes before sleeping, it should’ve dried by now without leaving a trace.

But this still had that freshly-wet, damp feeling to it.

Did I... drool in my sleep? I do sometimes drool when I’m tired... But still, when people drool, doesn’t it usually soak one spot or leave a wet patch instead of scattered droplets?

But if it’s not drool or sweat, how else would I explain it right now? An intruder?

Ridiculous.

I lock the door before going to bed. My personal maid Jane has a key to the room, but aside from her, the only people with keys are Father and Mother.

Even my brother doesn’t have one.

She slowly turned and looked toward the window, but the curtains were still and the windows were firmly shut.

Besides, this was the second floor, and the building’s floors were tall, making it nearly impossible for anyone to break in through the window.

No matter how I think about it, drool makes the most sense.

Yeah. Maybe I drooled in droplets.

When people breathe in and out in a sort of hup, ha, hup, ha staccato rhythm, saliva could drip in beads, right?

That kind of absurd self-justification was how she managed to settle it—barely. But no matter what she told herself, there was still a strange unease lingering in one corner of her mind.

“You’re not feeling well again today, milady?”

“Yeah... my stomach feels heavy.”

At lunch, she pushed the stew around her plate a few times, then stood up.

Ugh, what a waste. You’re not supposed to leave food behind.

But she had no choice. She had no appetite, and her stomach felt awful.

If she forced herself to eat more, she’d probably end up throwing everything back up.

Better to leave food uneaten than to throw it up later. So she decided to sacrifice the small for the sake of the greater good.

It felt kind of ridiculous to attach such a grand reason to leaving a single dish uneaten.

She sluggishly made her way to the bed and sat down.

She couldn’t lie down right away. Lying down when her stomach felt this bad would only make the sour stomach acid burn her insides.

Leaning against the headboard, she lightly tapped her chest with her fist.

Jane glanced at her, then looked over at the dishes she had left behind.

Genuine concern showed on her drooping lips.

Sweet Jane.

This had already been going on for several days. Her stomach had been in such discomfort that she could barely eat properly.

At first, she thought it might be a cold, so she saw the doctor—but he said it didn’t seem like one.

Not a cold, but stress-related. The mind is exhausted, so the body is rejecting food.

Ugh, I swear I’m probably the most idle person in this entire mansion, and yet I have stress-induced symptoms?

Even the neighbor’s dog would laugh.

Not that we have a neighbor.

Even tapping her chest felt like too much effort, /N_o_v_e_l_i_g_h_t/ so she dropped her hand and stared blankly at the air in front of her.

Her discomfort still lingered. Her stomach was empty, but it hurt. She was hungry, but had no appetite.

This body’s just a total disaster.

She stretched out her arm and looked at her bony forearm. It had always been thin, but after not eating for several days, it looked even more skeletal.

At least it was autumn.

Long sleeves would hide it.

If her arms and legs were all bare and a family member happened to run into her, they would definitely worry.

She didn’t want to add to their burdens, especially when they were already busy.

“What did the doctor say?”

Jane had gathered the dishes onto a tray and approached with the medicine from the nightstand, asking in a concerned voice that was oddly pleasant to hear.

It’s like I’m a child craving attention, getting pleased over someone worrying about me.

She reached out, took the round, dark green pill, and stared at it before popping it into her mouth.

They say medicine that’s good for you tastes bitter, but this one was bitter beyond reason. It even looked like a clump of algae.

“Ugh. He said it’s probably not a cold. He suspects it might be stress-related.”

After swallowing the pill, Jane naturally handed her some juice.

Out of all the appetite-less moments in her days, this was the one time she actually craved something—the juice she drank after the vile medicine.

She drank it all in one go, but the burning bitterness lingering on her tongue didn’t fade.

I really need to have a serious talk with the doctor once I’m done with this prescription. I’m going to insist that this medicine just doesn’t work.

“Have you visited Priest Ian? If you keep missing meals like this, your body will break down.”

“I go every day. Thanks to him, I manage to eat dinner.”

Ever since she first started feeling sick, she’d been visiting him practically every single day. She felt a bit guilty, like she was abusing the temple’s generosity... but really, what choice did she have?

I have to survive, after all.

It was only after receiving divine power from Ian each evening that she had enough energy to eat a meal.

And with that one meal, she managed to last until the next night.

She slowly lay down. The most effective way to conserve what little strength she had left was through sleep.

This must be why animals hibernate in winter. Honestly, they’re brilliant. Animals are just better than humans.

“Will you sleep now, milady?”

Jane’s question was met with a slow nod.

“Yeah, I should get some rest. Can you wake me up before dinner?”

“Yes... milady.”

After I closed my eyes to sleep, it wasn’t long before I heard the sound of Jane leaving the room. And soon, I drifted off.

“Milady, it’s time to eat.”

A voice reached me at the edge of sleep and wakefulness.

Jane? It must be Jane. I asked her earlier to wake me before dinner.

I barely opened my blurry eyes and saw the vague figure of a maid. But that was all. My dazed mind refused to fully awaken. My heavy eyelids kept drooping, forcing me to close my eyes again.

“Tod...ay... I’ll... sleep...” I mumbled, my voice sluggish from sleep. Jane didn’t answer.

But I didn’t have the awareness to care. I fell asleep again without resistance.

Soft, steady breathing filled the room.

“Milady.”

This translation is the intellectual property of Novelight.

Standing beside the sleeping Selina, the maid quietly called out to her.

But Selina, deep in slumber, didn’t hear and merely shifted slightly.

And then, after a little time had passed—

The maid’s lips, which had been still as she gazed down at Selina’s serene face, slowly curved upward into a subtle smile.

She reached into her dress and pulled out a small vial.

A vial filled with a clear, colorless liquid that shimmered faintly.

Still wearing that lifted smile, the maid slowly brought the vial toward Selina’s lips.

Drip, drip, drip.

Three drops.

“That should be enough... to bloom the black flower.”

Her whisper echoed quietly through the room, and then the maid tucked the vial back into her dress.

She slowly turned around and opened the door with careful movements.

But the maid couldn’t leave right away.

The moment the door opened—someone was standing just beyond it.

Tall stature, brilliant silver hair, and strangely violet eyes.

“...I came to see Selina.”

Lukas.

Lukas looked at the woman standing before him, then glanced past her into the room.

It seemed the person he had come to see was asleep.

The date for the subjugation had been finalized.

Exactly two weeks from today. He had come to inform her... or rather, that was the excuse he’d given himself. Truthfully, in the weariness of daily life, he had simply wanted to see Selina’s face. But the person herself was sleeping.

Talk about bad timing.

Rubbing the back of his neck, Lukas stepped back to let the maid come out.

“Did she at least eat before sleeping?”

After confirming the maid had closed the door, Lukas asked her with a pleasant expression.

But the maid didn’t respond. She just stared at him blankly with unfocused eyes.

What the...

Just as he was beginning to feel uneasy at her silence, the maid’s head slowly tilted side to side.

“I... I’ll be going now... I’m busy...”

Mumbling the words, the maid gave a vague nod and turned away.

Such an unresponsive answer—practically a dismissal.

If she’d done that to any other noble, she would’ve been scolded for her insolence, but Lukas only twitched his eyebrow once and moved on to his own business.

Black hair and blue eyes.

He replayed the image of the maid in his mind.

“Haaahk.”

He jolted awake with a harsh gasp.

That dream again.

The one where someone kept murmuring “danger,” or maybe “gerousdan,” or “gerousdanger,” in broken fragments. This time, Selina hadn’t even appeared—it was just the voice. But hearing that voice alone in an empty space... Honestly, he would’ve rather had Selina grabbing him by the collar.

He slowly sat up.

Tonight, I’ll calm down and just try to sleep again. There’s no way I can pull an all-nighter like this when I haven’t eaten...

“Urgh.”

He quickly covered his mouth.

Thankfully, nothing came out. Then again, there was nothing in his stomach to throw up.

It was just dry heaving caused by sour bile rising up. Once it started, the retching wouldn’t stop.

And what followed the retching was a fit of coughing that scraped his throat raw.

Bile. Nausea. Coughing.

The worst possible cycle.

His irritated throat stung with a burning heat.

It felt like it was going to burn away. In unbearable discomfort, he covered his mouth with one hand and reached up to touch his throat with the other.

His skin was damp. Not just his throat—now that the nausea had settled, he realized his entire body was damp with sweat.

It was astonishing that a human body could even produce this much sweat.

Well... Eunji used to sweat like this too when she had seizures.

A pale image of Eunji surfaced in his mind. And his memory slowly drifted back to the months before Eunji died.

Even though she couldn’t eat, she kept vomiting on an empty stomach. She’d writhe in pain from migraines and joint aches.

Yeah, she was dying.

He kept his hand over his mouth and slowly stood up.

And just like that night—the night he had the nightmare and his body had suddenly started falling apart—he lit the nearest candlestick.

Da...ng...er... Da...

A warning flashed in his head like a red siren. At the same time, the voice from his dream echoed through his thoughts.

The flickering candlelight filled the room with wavering shadows as he pulled his hand away from his mouth. His palm was damp.

No surprise there. With all that dry heaving, even if he hadn’t vomited, he’d probably drooled a little.

Yeah, that had to be it.

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Gulp. The sound of him swallowing echoed throughout the room.

Then, slowly, he looked down and checked his palm.