The Villainess Does Not Want to Die

Chapter 14: Pipe

After some time passed, I stood in front of the mirror and clumsily set my broken nose back into place. While waiting for Alina to bring painkillers, I idly looked out the window.

When I first arrived here, the scenery always amazed me, but it seemed the human capacity for satisfaction had its limits—now it felt a little dull.

And dizzying.

Eventually, Alina returned, accompanied by an elderly man with a head full of stark white hair and a basket in his hands.

“Alina, I told you to just bring painkillers.”

“I-I was going to, but…”

As Alina fumbled, clearly uncomfortable, the old man stepped forward to explain.

“If you simply reset your nose like that, it might heal crooked or develop a bump.”

“…And?”

“Fortunately, you’re in luck, my lady. You have the privilege of a skilled healer employed by the Duke’s household right in front of you.”

With that, the old man entered my room.

He surveyed the space briefly before gesturing for me to sit in a chair. When I complied, he dragged over a small table and began unpacking a peculiar assortment of items: round crystal-like objects and something rectangular that glimmered, resembling trinkets from a fortune teller’s shop.

“Alina, was it?”

“Y-Yes!”

“Bring the basket to the young lady.”

Alina nodded and handed me the basket.

I opened the lid to find a strange-looking pipe and some kind of powder.

Not tobacco. The scent was faintly herbal, with an underlying burnt aroma.

“Pack the powder into the pipe and place it in your mouth. I’ll light it for you.”

It was too late to refuse now, not after letting him into my room.

Feeling uneasy, I wiped the pipe’s mouthpiece with a dirty cloth before using it. The old man’s tone turned faintly disapproving.

“It’s brand new, my lady. I went through quite some trouble to retrieve it from storage.”

He had a point—nobody here had the habit of reusing someone else’s items.

I packed the pipe with the powder, placed it in my mouth, and waited.

The old man pulled a red stone from his pocket, shook it briefly, and produced a flame. He lit the pipe, and smoke began to rise slowly.

Leaning back in the not-so-comfortable chair, I took a tentative puff.

Nothing happened.

So, I took another draw, then another, inhaling and exhaling repeatedly.

After a slight cough, I suddenly felt my body relax, as if all tension drained away. My vision seemed to brighten.

Cough, cough. “This… this is opium!”

Were they trying to turn me into an addict?

If life taught me one thing, it was that drugs were the shortcut to ruin.

The old man tilted his head as if puzzled by my reaction.

“It does have some addictive properties, but it’s an excellent painkiller. Even more so, since patients can’t resist under its influence.”

“You quack….”

He ignored my muttered insult and clicked his tongue, muttering about how often patients hit him during procedures.

Then, without warning, he grabbed my face, firmly held my broken nose, and started kneading it like clay.

“I’ve processed it to minimize addiction risk, so the side effects shouldn’t be too severe.”

I could only hope he was right.

From my nose came a crack, crack sound, like bones or cartilage being adjusted.

Without the drug, this would’ve hurt unbearably. Even now, a faint ache crept through the haze of relief.

Feeling light and blissful, I let my body sink against the chair, not even bothering to move my arms or legs.

When he finished manipulating my nose, he took one of the stones from the table and pressed it against my face.

Not gently, but with enough force to make me worry my face might flatten.

Gradually, I felt the sensation of my nose healing—as if broken bones were rejoining.

Drowsiness swept over me like a wave.

But it wasn’t the bad kind of sleepiness. No unpleasant memories, hallucinations, or hated faces surfaced. It felt perfect.

Comforted by the sensation, I unconsciously took another puff from the pipe.

The old man was saying something to Alina—something about administering medicine.

I could barely make out the words, muffled as if I were underwater.

At first, it sharpened my mind, making my thoughts and vision clear. But as I inhaled more, my chest opened up with a strange, doubled joy.

I should stop thinking about it.

It felt dangerously addictive—like being a willing slave to a sly, opium-loving fox.

Still, all that happened was a soft smile creeping across my face.

Even that was risky enough.

The old man packed up his belongings and left the room.

Alina, holding a damp cloth she had fetched from somewhere, gently wiped my face and arms.

“Alina, help me bathe. I’ll take a nap in the meantime.”

She responded, but I only understood from her lip movements. The sound didn’t reach me.

When I woke up, I was lying naked in a bathtub.

The water level was just enough to prevent me from drowning if I nodded off again.

“Alina?”

A figure behind me was tending to my hair. Assuming it was Alina, I called her name, but it turned out to be someone else.

“My name is Looney, my lady.”

“Where’s Alina?”

“She’s likely fetching clothes for you. I’ve almost finished bathing you, anyway.”

Hearing this, I attempted to stand, but a sudden wave of dizziness struck, and I stumbled, collapsing into the water.

Fortunately, landing on my rear spared me the pain of injuring myself further.

Maybe it was just because there’s enough cushion back there to absorb the impact.

“You’ll need to attend the dining hall soon.

The Duke has specifically requested your presence after hearing about what happened today.”

“I don’t want to go.”

At my words, the girl who introduced herself as Looney lifted me out of the tub.

Joined by a few other maids, they all but dragged me to the dressing room as though escorting a prisoner. There, they dried me off and began dressing me.

They squeezed my waist into a corset that gathered what little I had in the way of a chest into one place, and I could barely breathe in the tight blouse they made me wear. 

Then came the flowing dress, thigh-high stockings, and shoes that felt like they were crushing my feet.

“…I said, I don’t want to go.”

Once fully dressed, I shoved the maids away.

A few stumbled and fell, but I didn’t care. I simply walked toward the dining hall.

Alina watched me with trembling eyes, but I ignored her and continued walking, hating that gaze.

The maids, seemingly worried I’d wander off, trailed behind me, even the one I’d just pushed.

Walking through the corridors, I eventually reached the dining hall.

I took my usual seat, the empty one always left for me.

Dinner began, as always, with a light drink served before the meal—a weak, slightly alcoholic beverage.

Next would come a bite-sized appetizer, soup, and then the main course.

The food here always tasted good, but I hated having to eat it in this setting.

The rest of the diners were engaged in cheerful conversation, as though the tense atmosphere I’d experienced when I first arrived had been a complete illusion.

Or maybe they’d simply decided to treat me as invisible.

Honestly, I preferred it that way. If it meant I didn’t have to eat here, even better.

I’d rather eat in my room, shoveling food into my mouth from a plate on my bed without worrying about anyone watching.

Like a homeless person gobbling down bread tossed to them in a street corner.

“I heard you were injured today,” the Duke said, breaking the illusion of my invisibility.

“Yes.”

“Are you all right now?”

“Thanks to you… yes.”

While the Duke spoke and I answered, the delicious meat dish I’d been eating was whisked away and replaced with bland vegetables.

He didn’t seem to notice or care.

“Well, that healer’s skilled, I’ll give him that. Though he’s a bit rough in his methods.”

“…Hahaha.”

“Ah, this weekend, the whole family will be heading to the villa for a little getaway.”

At his words, Eileen’s expression soured noticeably.

The Duchess’ face remained composed, but the slight twitch at the corners of her eyes betrayed her displeasure.

Libian glanced at me and then looked slightly flustered.

What’s his deal?

I scanned the room.

No one here seemed happy to see me.

The Duke’s announcement seemed less like an invitation and more like a passing remark about a family obligation.

“I’ll stay here. I still have books I haven’t finished reading.”

The Duke shrugged nonchalantly and resumed eating.

It was clear he didn’t care whether I joined them or not.

“Suit yourself.”

The room fell silent, the usual clinking of cutlery absent.

Perhaps the Duchess had instructed the staff to remove my plate every time my utensils touched it.

It wasn’t worth commenting on.

If the Duke asked about it, they’d just claim it was for the sake of etiquette lessons, and that would be the end of it.

Despite still being hungry, dessert was already being served—a slender cake, just about the length of my finger.

I ate it in one bite, washed it down with tea, and sat idly until the meal was officially over.

As I stood to leave, the Duke spoke softly.

“Eileen was whining about you. Said you lashed out at the servants.”

I didn’t bother defending myself and responded reflexively.

“I was wrong.”

“Good.”

No further scolding followed.

“Marisela, is there anything you’d like? Your birthday is coming up, isn’t it?”

Birthday. When was my birthday again?

I’d never really celebrated it.

Oh, there were a few times at the brothel when my mother decided to indulge me. 

On those days, she’d avoid taking clients, and we’d share something nice to eat, but…They weren’t exactly fond memories.

“I’d like a piano,” I said.

The Duke nodded, said he’d see to it, and waved me off, telling me to go to bed.

I bowed and returned to my room.