Chapter 41 | How to Not Get Executed as an Otome Game Villainess

— Dormitory Building —

“Ah, life...”

My voice came out muffled and slurred from the pillow, like the last bubble spat out by a drowning person.

At this moment, Misha was no longer in the room. She had probably left the room sensibly yet sadly after I said I was feeling unwell and wanted to rest early. Although I didn't know why she was sad, she had left a cup of completely cold herbal tea on the table. This stuff was supposed to relieve headaches—which made sense, since I had been whining about having a splitting headache ever since I got back.

She was a good kid.

I didn't know how she saw me. Although I had held it together outside, I really couldn't keep up the act once I returned to my room.

Fortunately, it was all just self-pity or my inner thoughts.

It shouldn't lead to anything too bad.

Well, I didn't have the energy to analyze it right now anyway.

Only one thing was on my mind right now.

How on earth was I supposed to face Liliana...

Not to mention that Waldenburg, that Black Swordsman, would have a terrible impression of me. Maybe there would even be a duel plotline later? Damn, then I thought of a certain Crown Prince. If he came to ask about it, wouldn't my actions be equivalent to putting a green hat on his head?

Although I had absolutely no feelings like that for either him or her...

But the world is materialistic; it doesn't change based on an individual's will.

Thinking of this, I wailed silently into my pillow. Replaying the memory like a dark history, I kicked my legs wildly under the blanket, rumpling the bedsheets into a messy heap.

Just then, there was a knock on the door.

My struggles stopped instantly, and I slowly propped myself up.

Rubbing my head, I took a deep breath and gradually regained my composure. Oh well, whatever. We'll cross that bridge when we get to it. How could a little setback defeat me when I had already transmigrated?

I went to open the door.

It was Shirune.

Great. A three-sentence conversation, and then I closed the door. It turned out Shirune had heard I was feeling a bit unwell and came by specifically to show her concern. She also subtly told me some of the current rumors.

“My lady,” Shirune said earnestly, “please mind your manners. No matter what, bullying a commoner in public like that might lead to being forced to write a self-reflection if you're held accountable afterward, and it will give you a bad reputation.”

I winced awkwardly in my mind. A bad reputation?

Wait, had things developed in another direction?

If that sudden incident was defined as me bullying Liliana, it actually fit the plot and my villainous persona. It wouldn't spread any weird gossip or rumors, and the green hat on the Crown Prince's head could be taken off.

Put that way, it didn't even seem like much of a threat?

After all, I was supposed to be the kind of person who did things like that... It was just that I had been trying my best to avoid it. Now, my favorability with them had probably dropped back to the original novel's level.

What a pity for my...

Sigh!

Shirune said a few more words before leaving. She brought me a packed dinner, which I ate in my room. A while later, she knocked on the door again to take away the dishes.

An hour later,

Misha returned to the room.

She looked like she had a lot on her mind, but the first thing she did upon returning was ask how my body was doing. Her gaze darted around, and she hesitated, acting timid and hesitant.

I thanked her for her concern and then went to bed to rest.

After all, it was already almost past eight in the evening.

Having washed up and lying in bed, I recalled the events, silently pulling the blanket up. My toes were practically curling with embarrassment, enough to dig out a three-bedroom apartment.

“Miss Loris.”

Misha spoke up just then.

Her voice was very quiet, so soft it was like she was speaking to herself.

“Mmh—” I let out a muffled sound, pretending I was about to fall asleep.

But soon, warm breath drifted near my ear.

I realized something was wrong.

This distance was too close.

Was someone crouching by the bedside?

“Miss Loris, do you... like Liliana?”

My brain instantly snapped awake from its daze.

Misha was leaning against my bedside, asking this question with a sad and sorrowful look. She didn't even dare to look at me. But honestly, this action was so baffling and bizarre!

Late at night, just as I was about to fall asleep, Misha crawled to the bedside to blow warm air in my ear and whisper secrets!

Wait, liking Liliana? I like Liliana?

My eyes widened under the blanket. Damn, this was way worse than just bullying or playing pranks. This was practically declaring war on all the male leads! This kind of rumor absolutely could not be allowed!

Wait, where did she hear that? Or rather, how did she even come up with this question?

If you asked whether I personally had a good impression of Liliana, putting aside all other factors...

After all, who wouldn't like a kind, beautiful, and approachable pink-haired girl?

But no, this afternoon was purely due to Providence, because the World's Will was controlling my body. I still valued my own life more.

After a moment of silence, I decided to brush it off. I slowly sat up and asked displeasedly:

“Pfft, where did you hear such a rumor?”

Misha was startled by my displeased tone. She waved her hands in a flurry, stuttering with dim eyes as she spoke with a hint of inner conflict. Her voice grew smaller and smaller, until her entire body looked like a bun freshly taken out of a steamer, with visible steam practically rising from her head.

Why was she blushing as she spoke?

I suddenly noticed she didn't dare to look at me directly, only stealing secret glances. Following her gaze... looking down, I realized the strap of my nightgown had slipped down my shoulder, exposing my smooth, fair shoulder.

Oh? Exposed a little bit.

Although I didn't really care about this sort of thing since we were both girls, seeing her unusual reaction, I still silently pulled the strap back up.

Why was she blushing like this?

Looking at her like this, I suddenly found it a bit amusing.

But it was only for a split second.

Because in the next second, I realized—something was wrong.

No, no, no, no.

Although I didn't want to think about that possibility, my situation seemed a bit dangerous!

Spare my life, seriously!

On the surface, I tried my best to maintain the dignity of a villainous noble daughter, but I had already decided to be slightly on guard.

Because in Misha's light brown eyes, besides panic and shyness, there was something deeper—like an undercurrent hidden beneath a lake, something moving under the calm surface that I didn't know about.

Sitting up, I forced myself to comb through my messy blonde hair with my hand and let out a sigh.

“Misha... it's getting late. Go to sleep.”

“...” The conversation ended without any resolution.

Misha was silent for a moment.

Her eyelashes drooped, casting a small fan-shaped shadow beneath her eyelids.

I couldn't see her eyes, but I could see her fingers slowly, stroke by stroke, wringing the hem of her skirt against her knees.

Then she lifted her head.

“M-Miss Loris,” she called out to me nervously again.

This time, her voice sounded a bit different.

How should I put it? It was like a cup of milk tea with too much sugar—cloyingly sweet, yet carrying a heavy, unavoidable weight.

Gulp.

I swallowed hard to maintain my composure.

“What is it?” I asked while tidying up the blanket I had rumpled, trying to smooth it out so I could lie back down and be a proper salted fish.

Misha didn't answer.

Rustle, rustle.

She drew closer like a small animal.

I had no choice but to open my eyes.

“Misha?—”

Halfway through my sentence, I swallowed my words.

It turned out her outstretched hand was pulling up my duvet, tucking me in like a servant.

She was crouching beside my bed, keeping her gaze level with mine. The moonlight leaked through the gap in the curtains, falling right on her face and illuminating those light brown eyes.

Usually, her eyes were timid, occasionally sparkling, like those of a little fawn.

Now, they held an indescribable sense of inferiority.

My body instinctively stiffened for a moment.

Misha crouched by the bed, her light brown hair draping down the side of her ears, the moonlight illuminating her cheeks.

Her fingers were still pinching the corner of my blanket—the very corner she had grabbed when tucking me in just now. The blanket had been pulled up to my chin, wrapping me up tightly and leaving only my face exposed.

Logically, she should have gone back after tucking me in.

But she didn't.

She remained crouching there, her fingers slowly, slowly twisting the corner of the blanket, as if that piece of fabric was the only thing she could hold onto.

“Miss Loris...” she finally spoke, her voice so quiet it sounded as if it were coming from far away.

“Yes.”

“Do you... really not like Liliana?”

So heavy.

I sighed in my heart, but this time I didn't lose my temper.

“What are you talking about?” I said, keeping my tone as steady as possible. “I hate her, as you well know. What happened this time was purely... to play a prank on her.”

And to play a prank on myself. How tragic.

Misha's eyelashes trembled.

“But...”

No, no, no, hold on, Loris! In a game, this would be the critical moment where a special choice with two options pops up right in front of you, complete with a prompt to save your game!

Should I answer casually? Should I act completely shocked? No, this kind of development is actually somewhat expected!

Calm down. I really need to calm down!

Wait, she probably wasn't entirely triggered by that, right? If I analyze her psychology, Misha has been ignored her entire life. Suddenly meeting a noble lady like me who associates with her regardless of the past, she might place extreme importance on any development outside of their relationship.

Okay, what am I even saying? I have to solve the problem at hand... with my own method... I probably know where her panic, anxiety, and inferiority stem from.