STVWDTD Chapter 1

I'm the Terminally Ill Youngest of a Villain Family

Diana Beatus. The youngest daughter of Duke Beatus. She considered herself utterly, perfectly ordinary.

Why?

Her eldest brother—the firstborn—had the heir position locked down tight, so no succession drama there. Her second sister ruled the capital's social scene with an iron fist, which meant Diana could skip every tedious tea party. And her third brother, the younger of the two, carried the family's military service obligation like a particularly heavy and noble boulder.

Which left absolutely no space for one ordinary youngest daughter to do anything at all.

Buried under the reputations of her illustrious siblings, Diana wasn't bitter about it. Hell, she loved it. What a convenient life this was.

Because her siblings shouldered every responsibility, Diana got to be remarkably, blissfully free from the duties and obligations that crushed other noble daughters. Free to do whatever she wanted, really.

The ones who envied that freedom worked overtime trying to tear her down.

'Half-wit princess.'

Diana didn't give a single shit what anyone said about her. She'd never been good at listening to other people anyway.

Fulfill the family's bare minimum expectations, and she could live a life so ordinary it bordered on parasitic. Sweet, easy, perfect.

At least, that's how it was. Right up until she got sick with a disease no one could name.

When was it? The red moon rose, and she spent three solid years wasting away. Strength leaked out of her body day by day. Coughing up blood became routine. When the fevers spiked, even breathing was work.

That day, the doctor made his regular visit.

"I tell you this every time, my lady, but I simply cannot determine the cause. I don't know what illness you have. Without knowing, I cannot treat you. There is no method."

He looked at her lying in bed—just lying there, because that's all she could do anymore—and sounded appropriately regretful about the whole situation.

She was tired of hearing the same useless speech.

Staring at this quack with his nonexistent sincerity, she turned her dim eyes toward the ceiling. If her voice had worked, she would've asked him something.

Hey. Doctor man. You really don't see that smoke leaking out of my body?

Every time strength drained from her, dark red vapor rose from her skin and drifted out of the estate.

The doctor left. She didn't even register that today was her birthday. The pain was too extreme. That's when a maid burst through the door at a dead sprint.

"M-Miss! Something terrible has happened!"

This was it. The final agony. She was dying.

"The eldest miss! The eldest young lady has been charged with treason! His Imperial Highness the Crown Prince ordered her immediate execution!"

The maid's voice grew distant. Her breath ran out. At the very end of that last breath, Diana understood.

'The Crown Prince ordered an immediate execution?'

Ah. F*ck.

This world was inside a novel.

The moment she realized she'd reincarnated into a novel, she died. Just like that. Pathetically.

The novel was a toxic romance between the Crown Prince and the Saintess.

Men swimming in the Saintess's reverse harem. The Crown Prince fighting to claim the Saintess for himself.

Meanwhile, Diana's eldest sister—the Crown Princess—played the villainess obsessed with the male lead. She tried to assassinate the Crown Prince who didn't love her back, got charged with treason, and lost her head.

The family heir, her eldest brother, turned out to be the main mastermind behind everything. Horrifically executed. The villain family got slaughtered to the last member.

So then. Diana Beatus.

Who was she?

An extra born as the youngest into a family of villains. So minor she barely got mentioned. A throwaway line about the terminally ill youngest daughter, then gone.

Ha. Life.

"Sniff."

A soft crying sound.

"Hic—"

The sensation of floating gently toward the sky reversed at the sound of tears. She plummeted back down like someone had slammed her into the ground.

Gasp! She swallowed air without meaning to. The air rushing into her lungs felt foreign.

Senses that had been swallowed by darkness started waking up one by one.

"Ungh—!"

Everything hurt.

Did I fall into hell? I'm dead, so why isn't the pain over?

Hot tears streamed from her barely-opened eyes.

It hurts so much. The agony from right before death was starting all over again.

"Hic. You can't die!"

The voice that had been crying so miserably let out a sharp yelp.

I'm already dead, though. Before she could finish the thought, something landed in her hands.

Diana exhaled roughly and grabbed whatever it was with desperate strength.

Survival instinct. Someone was giving her things, and Diana clutched them on pure instinct, buried under the pile.

Miraculously, the pain started fading.

As the violent agony decreased, strength returned to her grip.

"Hic, you can't die and leave me alone! Sister!"

How much time passed? The pain receded. Diana stabilized. She blinked her heavy eyelids and focused her vision.

'I'm... alive?'

"Sniff. Sniff."

Everything except her face was buried. Diana turned her head toward the sniffling sound.

A boy.

Round cheeks. Delicate features. The kid had eyes that took up half his face, currently brimming with tears.

The moment their eyes met, he started tearing up again.

"Who—" Ahem.

"I-I'll get water!"

Maybe five or six years old? A boy with red eyes and gray curly hair ran off and came back with a cup of water.

When she sat up, Diana could finally see what had been covering her body.

'Holy shit. What are these?'

Cursed dolls. Every single one of them ominous and grotesque. The kind that would give you sleep paralysis if you kept them by your bed.

The massive bed was covered in dolls that belonged in a horror movie.

A chill filled the room. Diana swallowed reflexively.

"It's okay. They're cursed dolls."

What part of this was okay? The kid said it cheerfully. Diana pushed aside her unease and moved the dolls, accepting the cup he offered.

The pain was gone, but her stamina had hit rock bottom. Just holding a small cup made her hands tremble.

The water tasted sweet, though. Delicious.

"There's monster poison in the water."

"Pfft— Cough, cough."

What?!

"Ah! It's not poison! It's medicine!"

Poison that's not poison? The kid flailed and brought over a white cloth, pressing it to her mouth.

She coughed for a while before exhaling deeply.

Could she trust him? Even when she glanced at him suspiciously, the kid just smiled bashfully.

For some reason, she was alive. She'd definitely died, so she must have come back to life somehow.

Diana looked around. An unfamiliar place. The antique room was old and worn.

Normally in these situations, you wake up younger in the place where you died, right?

"Where is this? Who are you?"

"This is a wizard's castle. I'm Noel. Your little brother."

The kid who'd been fidgeting stared at her as he spoke.

Noel. Little brother?

Unfamiliar words. A moment of silence.

The original novel only mentioned four Beatus siblings, including her. That had been true in reality too. And now someone's saying our family had another sibling? No way.

"Sister?"

The kid's eyes were swollen red from crying. He tilted his head, and a memory flashed through Diana's mind like lightning.

The Beatus bastard. She'd seen him once—a child some maid had demanded money for before abandoning him.

Her siblings hadn't cared, of course. The kid had been neglected and forgotten.

She'd wanted to look for him out of pity, but couldn't find him. Right after he arrived, she'd gotten sick.

"Diana? Sister?"

"Uh. Yeah. Noel."

Was it because she acknowledged him? The red eyes—the Beatus family trademark—sparkled brilliantly.

For some reason, Noel seemed to have high internal affection stats for her. He brought over a small hand mirror.

She accepted it reflexively and looked at her face.

Near-black purple hair. Sharp, elegant eyes. Pink irises added vibrancy to doll-like features.

Even her frail condition couldn't hide her striking beauty.

"Ah. I'm back."

This wasn't the corpse-face from before she died.

She remembered herself then—unable to swallow even thin soup, nothing but bones, cheeks sunken in like a skull.

Yeah. That's how I died. The moment I realized this was a novel world, I died without doing anything, just lying in bed.

Diana clenched and unclenched her thin hand.

She stared at her moving hand for a moment, then collapsed backward limply. A weak laugh escaped.

I'm alive. It hurts, but I can move. That's enough. Original story, whatever. I just need to survive.

Saving the doomed villain family—that kind of grand ambition was only possible when you had your health. My body comes first.

"They said if I stayed quiet, my sister would come. Then I wouldn't be alone anymore."

Diana's brow furrowed slightly at Noel's words about being trapped in a wizard's castle.

So someone had imprisoned the Beatus bastard and also kidnapped Diana, a legitimate heir. And this wasn't in the original story at all?

Why were things happening that shouldn't exist? She should've been in her luxurious bedroom, becoming one with her bed.

"How long have I been here?"

"Not long."

The kid didn't know exact dates. Still, she could piece together the situation from the rough information.

She was currently trapped in a wizard's castle with Noel. She didn't know who was responsible.

The castle was empty—not a soul in sight—and surrounded by an extensive barrier.

A barrier that prevented anyone from leaving without the owner's permission. Magic that didn't exist in this era.

Modern mages could only use simple spells through mana stones.

I'd believe this was an ancient mage tower. Even the wide-open window was blocked by the barrier.

Wind flowed in from outside, so she'd hoped, but when she reached out, her hand bounced off an invisible wall at the window frame.

Could she break through? She threw a candlestick experimentally. It passed straight through the barrier and fell.

Huh. She'd expected it to bounce off too.

Diana watched the falling candlestick with hollow eyes, then her pink gaze drifted up to the reddish moon floating high in the sky.

"Ah. The red moon."

The red moon had risen exactly when she'd gotten sick. She definitely remembered that.

So right now, she'd returned to the point when she'd just started getting ill.

Ha. I wake up and I'm already kidnapped and imprisoned by some lunatic.

Did toxic romance novels affect even the extras?

Forget the original story—her life was in danger right now. What should she do? How the hell does a terminally ill character survive? The original story gave her one throwaway line. No solution included.

"Sister, sister. Does it hurt again?"

When Diana grabbed her head and groaned, Noel brought over a cursed doll as big as himself.

Even though Diana made a disgusted face, Noel smiled sunnily and tried to hand it to her.

"If you hold this tight, it'll make you stop hurting."

"Make me stop hurting?"

"You have an illness where your mana drains away. The cursed doll will help."

An illness where mana drained away. Not even the best doctors had figured that out.

"How do you know that?"

"I can see it. Can't you?"

Tap. When Diana placed her hand on the doll, black smoke rose from it and sank into her body. Vitality flooded through her like magic.

"Right?"

Noel smiled meaningfully, the corners of his eyes crinkling.