The Villainess Does Not Want to Die

Chapter 45: A Kiss

“Olivia, what do you think it means to be a friend?”

“Someone close and dear to you…?”

“It’s someone you’ve been close with for a long time. But this is only our second meeting, and we haven’t spent much time together.

Can we still call each other friends?”

I set my cup down with a bit more force than necessary. The sharp clang of porcelain against the saucer rang through the room like a chime.

“…I don’t know.”

“Well, we haven’t known each other for long, but we could start being close from now on, right?”

This time, I pulled out a card and pen from my belongings.

Unfortunately, my chest wasn’t as ample as Olivia’s, so I couldn’t perform the crude trick of hiding a pen in my cleavage. 

It seemed convenient, but after hearing Eileen complain about back pain from her larger chest, I wasn’t sure it was worth it.

“Next time, you’re welcome to visit my estate.

Everyone there finds it unbelievable that I’ve made a friend. They simply can’t accept it.”

Honestly, it hurts.

Sure, I might have a naturally prickly personality, but the people in that estate had a hand in twisting me into this mess.

When a girl with a terrible temper and a ruined reputation claims to have a friend, their reactions are almost offensive in their disbelief.

Olivia looked at the card and pen I offered her, blinking in confusion.

Her card was full of invitations to dance, while mine was blank, making it far easier to scribble on.

“Write down your address for me. I don’t know where you live,” I said.

“Ah, yes!”

Her face lit up, and she grabbed the pen—oh dear—with four fingers, scribbling her address in a crooked, uneven script.

I sighed lightly, my curiosity getting the better of me.

“So, Olivia, why did you come looking for me?”

“Everyone keeps whispering, telling me not to talk to you.

But I don’t believe that the person who helped me would be like that, so I came here to be your friend, like I said last time!”

A friend. I wasn’t sure what that even meant.

I’d thought about it at home, wondering where the boundary of friendship lay, but I couldn’t figure it out.

Surely, if you’re close with someone, they’re a friend?

But for that to work, I’d need to have been much less twisted than I am now—if it even would’ve worked then.

“Oh, that. I just acted on anger. Forget about it.”

“Huh?”

“Haha,” I laughed, not answering her question.

Deflecting was my style. I drained the rest of the tea in my cup.

The household was as old-fashioned as the minuet they’d played, and the tea they served was equally dull—a coarse, bitter blend.

Using the endless trivia I’d learned from the Duchess, I brought up stories that I thought Olivia might find amusing.

To an outsider, it might’ve looked like I was desperately trying to please her.

As we chatted, I slowly moved closer.

Bit by bit, I leaned in, until our thighs were touching, and my shoulder brushed against hers.

Being a woman herself, Olivia didn’t seem particularly uncomfortable with my proximity.

“Olivia, there are quite a few things I don’t like,” I said.

“Oh… Did I mess up my manners again?”

She stiffened, her face tense with worry.

I suppose it made sense.

After all, I was the type to smash a wineglass over someone’s head if provoked. Meeting me alone in a closed room probably wasn’t the best idea.

“Haha, you’ve been breaking rules left and right, so I don’t even care anymore,” I said lightly.

Picking up a cherry with my fork, I abandoned the pretense and grabbed the next one with my bare hand.

There was no one watching, after all.

Though spitting out the pit felt uncouth, so I swallowed it whole.

“As friends, how close are we supposed to be?

I’ve never had a female friend before, so I wouldn’t know,” I said, turning to Olivia.

“Um… Well…”

She fumbled for words, and I leaned in close to her.

Startled, she instinctively leaned back, her beautiful face flushed.

“About this close?” I teased.

I wanted to see how she’d react.

If I were honest, I wanted to sully her—this perfect, untouchable girl.

Not in the violent way that knight had struck Alina, but perhaps just enough to leave a tiny flaw in her brilliance.

Maybe it was jealousy or the lingering intoxication making my body run warm.

How much longer would I live as someone else’s pawn?

Even if the Duchess no longer treated me like a puppet, she’d left behind habits and scars I couldn’t shake.

The world already saw me as a vile, lecherous villainess. I was an addict—though that part was my fault.

If I was truly so wicked, what harm could there be in teasing the beloved Olivia a little?

“W-Wait, my lady—”

Before she could finish, I pressed my lips to hers.

It was a light kiss, no tongue involved—something that could pass as a friendly peck.

She didn’t resist, whether out of shock or sheer kindness. Her lips, plump and soft, were unexpectedly tender.

Though they looked vibrant with red lipstick, there was a faint dryness to them—a reminder of artificiality.

The faint metallic taste of her makeup lingered as I pulled back.

A subtle sweetness from tea and cherries hung in the air, but the tang of alcohol began to seep in as her lips reddened.

“…Ah…”

“Whoever the other person may be, being alone in a closed room isn’t a good idea, even if they’re your lover.

It seems I’ve taught you another lesson today. Haha,” I said, rising from my seat.

“Th-That was my first kiss!” Olivia stammered, clutching her lips with an expression of dismay.

“I didn’t use my tongue, so it wasn’t a romantic kiss. Just a light kiss of friendship and affection,” I replied.

Still, I had stolen her first kiss.

It felt like I had splashed black paint onto a perfect, pristine white statue.

The thought made me chuckle, a quiet laugh bubbling up despite myself.

A Dawn That Feels Heavy

“It was fun. I hope we can meet again for something other than a ball. These events are tedious and dull,” Olivia said with a cheerful smile.

For some reason, her expression irked me—a face that made me want to throw a punch. Still, my patience was remarkable as always, and I managed to hold back.

That evening’s ball passed uneventfully. As the final song began to play, I slipped out of the estate a little earlier than most.

Unlike other dawns, which felt heavy and hollow, this one found me walking with an unusually light step.

When I returned to the estate, I washed up quickly and collapsed into bed, falling asleep almost immediately.

I woke to a distant, noisy commotion.

A young boy, wearing suspenders, a flat cap, and a tattered jacket, was running through the streets, blowing a whistle and shouting, “Extra! Extra!”

Extras were free; no payment was needed.

The boy began tossing rolled-up newspapers into the yards of every house.

I hastily dressed, wiping my face with a damp towel before stepping out to the yard to retrieve the paper that had landed there.

The headline screamed in bold letters:

“A Critical Moment for the Empire Has Come.”

The article continued:

“At 4 AM today, the Empire’s treacherous enemies murdered our proud soldiers at the border. If their demands for the withdrawal of our forces are not met by 11 AM, the Empire will declare a state of war.”

A single sheet of paper bearing the Emperor’s seal was tucked inside:

As of today, a partial mobilization is declared across the Empire.

All citizens who have completed their military service are called to serve.

Those conscripted will hold the rank of enlisted soldiers as per their contracts.

Conscripts will receive the same pay as active-duty soldiers.

Contracts for military service will remain valid for the duration of the mobilization unless otherwise released.

Allied kingdoms are required to summon their respective knightly orders.

Below was a lengthy declaration:

“The sword has been drawn. It cannot return to its sheath without victory and honor.

The oath we swore before His Majesty must be upheld with our last drop of blood.

…(abbreviated)…

We will triumph.

Together, we will bring permanent peace and justice to the Empire and the continent.

From the lowest to the highest, let us unite to crush the enemies of the Empire.

For our victory, and for our great army!”

“What is this?” I muttered.

Ah, right.

This must be the part where Raphael gets conscripted, goes to war, and returns as a knight.

It doesn’t really concern me.

Since I can’t remember any particular impression of the war, it must’ve been a victory.

Upon closer inspection, it seemed the lower classes would bear the brunt of this.

Drifters from poor villages or slum dwellers would likely be dragged off under threat of clubs.

Raphael wouldn’t die.

Sure, many soldiers returned maimed or broken, but Raphael would come back unscathed.

After all, he’s the protagonist—even if not as central as Olivia.

There’s nothing to worry about.

…Right?

In the capital, Raphael, Kesel, and a few knights began packing their belongings, preparing to leave.

Raphael was the only person I truly felt comfortable with in this estate. I didn’t want him to go.

I already knew what his answer would be.

Still, with a trembling voice, I asked, “Do you really have to go?”

Raphael didn’t answer. He gave me a bitter smile and shook his head.

I unclasped the necklace I always wore, pulling off the ring that hung from it, and handed it to him.

“Bring this back. It’s important to me.”

“…Okay.”

I knew Raphael would return alive, perhaps even as a hero—someone grand enough to stand beside the beautiful Olivia.

Yet I couldn’t shake the gnawing unease in my chest.

So I hugged him tightly.

Not because I thought he might become Olivia’s lover.

But because I didn’t want my closest friend to get hurt.