The Villainess Will Die

Chapter 1

How might you feel if someone told you that you only had a year left to live? Would you accept your fate? Or would you run from it?

~

Amarissa's heart beat heavily in her chest as she approached the mirror. Slowly, as if in a dream, she reached out to touch her reflection. It didn't look right. She didn't believe it. Was it an illusion, or her mirror betraying her?

She still couldn't get used to the eyes staring back at her. They were cruel eyes, devoid of any kind of visual warmth. Is this person Amarissa, or is it really just some demonic thing that looks like her? she asked herself. The look in her eyes was so evil, it didn't look human.

It had been a couple of weeks since the accident. She still couldn't get used to the idea that her old life was gone, that she was never going back. It had ended so quickly. And then, like a miracle, she was granted more time.

"A year is more than enough time," she mumbled to herself. "Even if I have to live as a wicked woman."

She wanted to enjoy life to the utmost. She wanted to do all the things she had never done while a child. She wanted to go places she had never been and do things that seemed impossible. While she was contemplating, someone knocked on her bedroom door.

"Princess Amarissa," a maid said from the other side of the door. Her voice shook slightly. "There's someone here to see you."

The wicked woman had been acting strangely. Well, she always acted strangely. But lately it seemed different. Princess Amarissa seemed more distracted than usual.

No answer. Nothing. The maid knocked again, even louder. She shouldn't be panicking—the attendants were trained not to panic. But an unexpected visitor was making a mess downstairs.

When Amarissa snapped back to reality, she realized the consistent knocking at her door continued. In any case, it was immediately obvious who the visitor was. Nobody ever came to see her but Lord Bastien. And he was probably making a mess of things.

Bastien was Amarissa's childhood friend, whom she hadn't seen in quite some time. And there was a reason why ​​everyone in the manor became tense on the few occasions when he did visit.

She finally opened the door. "Show me to the drawing-room."

As she followed the maid, she realized she had no desire to become a better person. One year of kindness would not erase Amarissa's despicable past. She had other things—better things—to do than waste her time on changing who Amarissa was. 

She slowly pushed open the drawing-room door, which was ajar, and stepped inside. And sure enough she found Bastien waiting, sitting in a chair. He looked up at her with near desperate eyes.

Amarissa's dark eyes went soft even though she desperately wanted to remain indifferent. She could also feel her heart cracking the same way a glass would if it was dropped. Amarissa, she thought, I can feel how much you cared about him.

In the moments he was in distress and needed comfort, Bastien ran to her. And each time she would take care of his wounds. From day one, she had always been the one to comfort him when he needed it. She would hold him all night if necessary.

"Lord Bastien," she said as her gaze raked him from head to toe. "Your visit is rather too sudden, you must admit. You should have sent word you were coming."

"Rissa," he said in a desperate tone. His hands were cut and bloody, dripping drop by drop onto the carpet. "You'll help me, won't you?"

Her heart sank in her chest. Only once more, she thought to herself, for Amarissa's sake.