The Villainess Does Not Want to Die

Chapter 44: Glances

After exchanging warm greetings with Olivia, I stepped away from her.

If I stayed by her side any longer, it felt as though someone might physically push me away.

As usual, no one invited me to dance.

Oddly enough, one distinguished man did approach me for conversation, though he was the exception.

Over the past month, Olivia wasn’t the only person I had spoken to.

There had been an arrogant woman whose sharp tongue I made cry with a few mocking words—that still counted as conversation. 

And I had exchanged words with a man of higher status than me, though, to be fair, he was the one initiating every interaction.

Now, that same man stood nearby, nursing a drink.

He was the image of an ideal Aryan—a golden-haired, blue-eyed figure someone with a ridiculous mustache might revere. He muttered under his breath.

“People seem to really dislike you. Particularly, they don’t want you near that young lady.”

Not just me—even when the prince himself approached Olivia, the crowd whispered about her.

They said that associating with a man like him would ruin her prospects for marriage, leaving her discarded and tarnished.

Though Olivia surely heard those words, she said nothing in response.

I couldn’t understand her inaction.

If people whispered that I was a troublemaker, I felt compelled to live up to the title.

“It’s not just me. They don’t seem to like the prince talking to her either. Unlike me, though, he could pluck out the eyes of those insolent fools if he wanted to,” I replied.

The man waved his hand dismissively.

“That kind of cruelty is something only someone like you—who killed a knight as a child—would think of.”

“So that rumor’s made the rounds too?”

His expression turned slightly surprised.

“It’s true? There are also rumors that you worship demons, though you don’t seem the type.”

“Demon worship, really? Is there no one else for them to gossip about? Sticking by someone who clearly doesn’t want you around is hardly appropriate—especially for an entire month.”

“Well, there’s no one else to stick by, which is why I’m here,” he said matter-of-factly.

It wasn’t particularly pleasant having a womanizing scoundrel hanging around me, especially one with a reputation for meddling with taken women.

“Why me, though?”

“My mother is pressuring me to finally marry a suitable young lady,” he replied.

“You don’t seem like the type to follow orders.”

“She said if I didn’t, she’d marry me off to a barbarian princess from the northern tribes. So here I am.

And since no man seems eager to pursue you, why not share a dance with me?”

The prince extended his hand.

I glanced at his outstretched palm, then at Olivia, gracefully dancing in the center of the ballroom.

I wasn’t sure why, but I felt envious of her.

It also seemed wasteful to let all the dance lessons I endured—complete with bruises and scoldings—go unused.

Taking the prince’s hand, I rose from my seat.

We waited until the current song ended before moving to an open space on the floor.

“It’s been a while since I’ve danced,” he said.

“How long?”

“The last time was at a marketplace, dancing the polka with some village girl.”

The new song began.

The estate seemed old-fashioned, and its owner likely the same, as the music wasn’t a waltz but a minuet.

“And I assume you spent the night with her as well?” I asked, dryly.

“Of course. It was a great honor for her to spend the night with someone like me,” he replied smugly.

Annoyed, I deliberately stepped on his foot, pretending it was an accident.

Feigning surprise, he grinned and said, “How utterly dull. Watching women dance in taverns is far more entertaining.”

I knew exactly the kind of dancing he meant—prostitutes lifting their legs and flashing their undergarments to the beat of bawdy music.

“You talk as if you’ve been to one.”

“Naturally. You must know what that’s like, coming from the slums yourself,” he said with a smirk.

And this was why people hated him.

Most nobles in the empire were landlords who profited from their estates. As landowners, they were inherently conservative.

A prince who frequented brothels and taverns in the slums, cavorting with commoners and causing scandals, would never be well-liked by such a crowd.

Of course, ambitious commoners with wealth might adore him for his lack of pretension—oblivious that he was likely sleeping with their wives in the next room.

“Unlike you, I don’t have fond memories of those places,” I replied coldly.

The tedious minuet ended.

Ordinarily, Olivia would have approached the ostracized prince, engaged him in conversation, and rehabilitated him into a proper human being.

Eventually, he would become a decent man, devoted only to her, and rise to the throne by ousting his brothers.

But judging by the current situation, it seemed more likely he’d end up clinging to me and crawling through the muck instead.

I thought he would lose interest after our dance and find another woman to pursue.

Instead, he followed me like a shadow.

Sitting on a sofa by the wall, I picked at some fruit, eating with my hands instead of using proper etiquette in hopes it would repel him.

But he persisted, bringing up an unpleasant topic.

“Does your family have a fiancé lined up for you?”

Was this man trying to court me?

On reflection, it didn’t seem likely—there was no benefit for him in doing so.

“If they did, I wouldn’t be here at this ball. Even Eileen—my sister—hasn’t managed to catch a decent man yet, so she’s been stuck dancing with me.”

“Ah, your mischievous sister. She’s quite pretty but clearly troubled. Men prefer quieter women.”

“In that case, I’m an even worse choice, don’t you think?”

“At least your sister has potential. Frankly, you don’t even have that,” he said bluntly.

I glared at him, annoyed—not because he was wrong, but because he was right.

“The social season will end in a month. By autumn, men will be off hunting or attending small gatherings,” he remarked.

“That’s sudden.”

“What is?”

“Talking about marriage.”

“Do you dislike it?”

“Of course. I’m only here to see Olivia.”

Raphael and Olivia were the only ones who had ever called me a friend. 

Surely it was okay to show a little interest in someone who called me that?

Though some had criticized me for being too attached.

“For someone so interested, you barely talk to her,” he pointed out.

“The people here don’t let me,” I replied.

The people dancing on this floor were all of similar status to me.

But in their eyes, I was an outsider—a tainted, unworthy being.

A mother who was a prostitute, they laughed. Ha.

Even though Olivia was an illegitimate child too, her mother hadn’t been a prostitute, nor was her mother’s commoner status widely known.

There probably aren’t many people who know.

Unlike the Duchess, no one would’ve gleefully spread such gossip about Olivia’s origins.

She must have grown up loved within her family.

Even now, the only reason I’m here at this gathering of esteemed individuals, who sometimes forge alliances or even find love, is because the Duchess has worked tirelessly to pair me with Eileen.

Maybe that’s why someone like Olivia could be so kind to someone like me.

A child raised with care and love naturally carries the mark of it.

Could we really be friends? Friendship is supposed to be between equals.

“Lost in thought, are we?”

“I was just wishing the gentleman beside me would find another lady to pester,” I replied.

“Why? Do you already have a lover?”

At that, Alina and Raphael came to mind.

But the idea of loving them romantically didn’t resonate.

Whether it was confusion or the opium’s lingering effects on my muddled brain, I wasn’t sure.

“Even if I did, it wouldn’t matter much to you, would it?”

Was he whining because I didn’t want to marry?

If that was the case, I couldn’t bring myself to care. After all, whoever I married would barely notice me—they’d be busy out in the world, leaving me alone.

“And you, Your Highness? Do you have someone?”

“I did.”

“Did?”

“They’re dead.”

“My condolences.”

“You’re taking this quite calmly. Most people would be flustered by now,” he remarked.

“Were they a commoner?”

He nodded.

“Given your reputation as the compassionate prince who mingled with commoners, I suppose that makes sense.”

“What do you mean?”

“Unlike us, they can’t simply call on a physician for treatment. They just fall ill and die. Death is always close by for them. It’s enough to make them think it’s better to live for the moment, wasting each day in fleeting happiness.”

“Do you find that sad?”

“Not so much sad as…”

I let the sentence trail off, unwilling to finish.

“Let’s leave it at that for today,” I said.

“Very well. Time is something we have in abundance, after all.”

I hoped the Empress would hurry up and marry him off to that barbarian princess.

With a nonchalant wave, he strutted off, and I headed in the opposite direction toward the tea room.

Passing by one of the rooms, I caught a glimpse of a silver-haired woman and Libian tangled together inside. Pretending not to notice, I continued walking.

People who played with anyone and everyone often ended up ostracized, like that prince.

Not my problem.

I spent a quiet three hours in an empty room, sipping tea served by a servant.

Eventually, Olivia’s figure appeared in the distance, wandering as though she were searching for someone.

She had a few people trailing her but seemed to shake them off as she moved. Was she looking for me?

I hoped it wasn’t just my imagination.

At one point, she glanced toward the room Libian had been in earlier and blushed slightly before resuming her search.

Finally, she spotted me sitting alone and ran over, her steps light.

“I’ve been looking all over for you! I was worried you’d already gone back,” she said breathlessly.

“Is that so?”

Olivia sat down beside me without hesitation.

Someone had once told her that when addressing a superior, she should wait for them to speak first. 

But either she didn’t think of me that way, or people let her get away with things simply because she was beautiful.

At a tea table, it was proper to have a servant bring a cup to her place, but Olivia simply grabbed a fork and started eating directly.

Her grip on the fork was incorrect, her posture slouched as she ate—completely lacking the poise of a lady. 

Her dress was rumpled, and she didn’t even bother to tuck her unused left hand out of sight.

Her lack of manners stood out like a sore thumb.

“You’re a bit unrefined,” I remarked with an unintentional chuckle.

Olivia’s face flushed slightly, her expression one of mild embarrassment.

I waved off the moment, brushing it aside.

“I’m joking. You said we should be friends, didn’t you?”

As I spoke, I picked up a cherry with my fork and ate it—seed and all. Spitting out the seed would have been rude.

In truth, it was a compulsion.

Even though no one would hit me for slipping up anymore, the fear and anxiety of making mistakes still made me tremble.

“Aha… ha…”

Was my gaze too sharp?

Olivia laughed awkwardly, her discomfort evident.

My crimson eyes, ominous and unsettling, had glared at the protagonist herself. 

Perhaps I should pluck them out as penance.