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Now reading: Chapter 41: New Plan from I AM NOT THE LOVE INTEREST!, a Fantasy novel by ZhoeLysandre.

Chapter 41: New Plan

—ARIA—

And so, with those thoughts still burning violently inside my head, I returned to the Valen Estate in complete silence.

The mont the carriage stopped, I stepped out without waiting for assistance and walked straight through the front entrance. The servants imdiately bowed upon seeing , but unlike usual, I barely acknowledged them.

My mind was too occupied.

The nightmare still clung to like cold water soaked into skin. Every ti I blinked, I could still see the execution grounds. The chains. The guillotine. The crowd screaming for my death while the male leads stood there watching as though it was the most natural conclusion in the world.

I climbed the staircase quickly, gripping the railing harder than necessary.

So yeah...

Screw this world, like I said.

The mont I reached my chambers, I pushed the doors open and shut them behind with enough force to echo across the room.

Then I locked them.

I stood there for several long seconds staring at the door while trying to calm my breathing.

Nope.

Absolutely not.

I refused to continue living like so nervous prey animal constantly checking whether fate was about to drop a piano on my head because the plot demanded "character developnt."

I marched across the room and pulled the curtains open aggressively, allowing the fading sunlight to spill inside.

Then I headed straight toward my study desk, grabbed a quill and several sheets of parchnt, and sat down heavily in the chair.

"Okay," I muttered while rolling my shoulders once. "If this world wants insanity, then fine. Let’s organize the insanity."

I stared at the blank paper for a mont before writing across the top in large letters.

NEW LIFE STRATEGY.

I paused.

Then underneath it, I added another line.

STOP TRYING TO BE LIKED.

I stared at the sentence quietly.

Sohow, seeing the words physically written down made sothing inside my chest loosen faintly.

Because really...

What exactly had all my effort accomplished so far?

I tried staying away from Cynthia.

I tried avoiding the male leads.

I tried not acting like the original Aria.

I tried being polite.

Reasonable.

Careful.

And yet my subconscious still rewarded with a prophetic nightmare where I got publicly decapitated.

Amazing.

Truly inspirational.

I imdiately began writing beneath the title again.

RULE NUMBER ONE.

Stop trying to earn approval from people already prepared to hate .

I nodded slowly to myself.

Honestly, that should have been obvious from the beginning.

The more I thought about it, the more exhausted I felt rembering how carefully I had been monitoring every interaction since transmigrating here.

Do not upset the heroine.

Do not anger the male leads.

Do not act suspicious.

Do not trigger the plot.

Do not look unstable.

Do not breathe incorrectly near important characters.

At this point, I was surprised I had not developed chronic anxiety.

I aggressively wrote another line.

RULE NUMBER TWO.

If fate wants dead anyway, I might as well stop acting scared all the ti.

The quill paused briefly in my fingers afterward.

That one felt harder to write.

Because despite all my anger, the truth remained the sa.

I was scared.

Terrified, actually.

The nightmare felt too real to ignore completely. Even now, rembering the sound of the guillotine used for my execution made my stomach tighten unpleasantly.

But maybe fear was exactly what this world wanted from .

A villainess desperately scrambling to survive while the story cornered her anyway.

Ha!

If I was going down soday, then at the very least I refused to spend every second beforehand trembling like a condemned criminal awaiting execution.

I continued writing.

RULE NUMBER THREE.

Stop emotionally investing in male leads.

Imdiately afterward, I listed their nas underneath.

Sebastian, emotionally unavailable.

Ezekiel, arrogant nace with a superiority complex.

Matthias, suspicious until proven otherwise.

The crown prince.

Probably another problem since I have not t him yet.

I stared at the list flatly.

"...Disgusting lineup," I muttered.

Especially Ezekiel.

My irritation returned almost instantly thinking about him.

The confusion on his face earlier genuinely annoyed .

As though he could not understand why I disliked him now.

Please.

The original Aria practically embarrassed herself chasing after him for years only to get rejected coldly and insulted afterward.

And now suddenly he wanted explanations because I no longer looked at him lovingly?

I scoffed quietly and added another note beneath his na.

STOP LOOKING AT HIM TOO LONG.

Because unfortunately, the original Aria’s body still occasionally reacted to him like so deeply cursed romance protagonist.

Completely humiliating.

I rubbed my forehead tiredly before continuing the list.

RULE NUMBER FOUR.

Protect my peace.

This one made pause longer.

Because strangely enough, after everything, I finally realized how exhausted I truly was, ntally.

Maybe that was why the nightmare affected so badly.

Because deep down, I already suspected that no matter how hard I tried, the story still intended to drag toward the sa ending eventually.

The realization made my chest ache faintly again.

I stared down at the paper quietly before adding another line beneath it.

Things that currently protect my peace:

Food.

Sleep.

Ren.

Avoiding idiots.

Pastries.

Not getting executed.

I snorted softly at the last one.

Honestly, priorities.

A knock suddenly sounded outside the door.

"My lady?" Ren’s voice called carefully. "May I enter?"

I imdiately covered the paper with another sheet out of instinct.

"Wait."

Silence followed briefly.

"...Are you doing sothing?"

"Yes."

He paused.

"...Should I be concerned?"

"...Nope," I answered imdiately.

A long sigh ca from the other side of the door.

"My lady," Ren said carefully, sounding deeply worried already, "I have called the physician to examine you."

I stared blankly at the door.

"...You what?"

"In case you have forgotten," he continued with patience, "you... you..." He stopped briefly before exhaling again. "You were resuscitated barely an hour ago."

My expression slowly stiffened.

Right.

That.

Honestly, today had contained too many catastrophic events for my brain to properly organize them anymore.

Normal people would probably need several business days to process all that.

I leaned back against the chair and rubbed my face tiredly.

"To be fair," I muttered toward the door, "I feel mostly alive now."

"That is not reassuring."

"Well, I do not know what else you want from , Ren."

"I would prefer if my lady stopped speaking as though nearly dying was a minor inconvenience."

I opened my mouth to reply before pausing.

"...Okay, fair."

"My lady..."

The exhaustion in his voice imdiately dulled the remaining sarcasm inside my chest.

I looked down slowly at the parchnt in front of .

For a mont, I rembered waking up gasping from the nightmare while clinging desperately to the nearest person beside .

Ren.

I rembered how tightly I held onto him.

How violently my hands had been shaking.

And worse...

I rembered the panic in his face afterward.

Guilt pricked faintly beneath my ribs.

"...Sorry, I’ll see the physician. Bring him in."

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