Please Fall in Love with Me! – A Villainess on Her Second Loop, using 'Seduction' to Avoid Ruin! - Chapter 1.5

Prince Gerald spat his final words at me, then turned sharply on his heel, his footsteps echoing loudly as he stormed out.

With a resounding clang, the heavy iron door slammed shut behind him.

I collapsed, burying my face in my hands.

“…Ugh…”

The tears I had been holding back spilled over, streaming down my face.

My entire body trembled—with fury, frustration, and despair.

I had done nothing, yet here I was, facing death. And not just me—my entire family, my household, my people—all condemned as traitors. Even Siegvard, who had only tried to protect me, had been sacrificed.

A suffocating wave of guilt crashed over me.

If I had simply followed the script, accepted my fate, none of this would have happened.

Father, Brother, our people—they would have been spared.

And, of course, Siegvard…

“I dragged you all into this… I’m sorry…!”

The execution was set for tomorrow.

If events followed the original storyline, it would take place at dawn—just a few hours from now.

There was no way out.

No evidence to overturn the charges.
No allies to fight for me.
No time left to change anything.

Even if somehow a miracle happened, even if somehow I managed to survive—what would it matter?

Siegvard was already gone.

A crushing despair swallowed me whole.

“Ahh… ah… ah…!”

I collapsed onto the cold stone floor, sobbing.

I sobbed until my voice broke.

I sobbed until my chest ached.

I sobbed until I could do nothing else.

There was nothing left for me but to cry—cry in anger, cry in regret.

Because there was nothing else I could do.

◇＊◇

It felt as though the entire world despised me.

“Kill the witch!”

The execution ground burned with rage, the crowd’s cries filling the air like fire.

The official read out my crimes—crimes I had never committed—in a booming voice.

Meanwhile, the executioner grabbed a fistful of my hair, yanking my head back before taking a blade and slicing through the strands with no care.

“…!”

Tears threatened to spill, but I clenched my teeth, forcing them back.

I refused.

I refused to let them believe I cried out of shame or guilt.

Because I had done nothing wrong.

I would not weep.

I would not bow my head.

I would not show weakness.

With my lips pressed into a firm line, I kept my gaze straight ahead, waiting for the inevitable.

I had avoided the heroine.

I had avoided the love interests.

I had avoided everyone outside my household.

And yet…

Why?

Why had Siegvard believed in me?

Why had he stood up for me?

Why had he fought for me?

I wanted to know.

But now, I never would.

At the very least, I wanted to thank him.

For believing in me.
For protecting me.
For being the only one who stood by me.

Even if just once—I wanted to say thank you.

Because, in that moment—I had been so happy, I could have cried.

“Siegvard…”

The executioner raised his sword.

I slowly closed my eyes.

◇＊◇

A gentle melody filled the air.

Birdsong.

The sweet, cheerful chirping of birds.

Slowly, my consciousness drifted upward.

I opened my eyes.

“…………”

For a while, I simply stared at the ceiling, my mind sluggish, unable to process anything.

Minutes passed before my thoughts finally caught up.

Something was wrong.

Wait… why am I awake?

I was supposed to be dead.

I had been executed—I was sure of it.

Yes. I had died.

Then…

Why am I still here?

“No… no, this makes no sense!”

I bolted upright, gasping, my hands gripping the sheets.

My eyes darted around the room, taking everything in.

And then—I froze.

“This… this can’t be…!”

The walls were painted in a soft lavender hue.
The arched windows were draped in thick, regal purple curtains.

Beside them stood a white cabriole-legged tea table—elegant, refined.

A plush purple carpet lay beneath my feet, its palmette patterns calm and dignified.
The mantelpiece bore intricate carvings, a delicate rococo-style center table resting before it.

Nearby, a matching lilac-colored sofa and chaise lounge adorned with white-painted frames and ornate legs completed the set.

A vintage-style writing desk, gold filigree decorating its edges.
An elegant oval mirror vanity, paired with a delicately curved stool.

A grand crystal chandelier sparkled overhead.

And finally—

The bed I had been lying in.

A queen-sized canopy bed, its tall headboard engraved with the Kishtaria family crest.

None of this was unfamiliar.

This was my room.

A dream?

No—this felt too real.

“…………”

My body trembled as I turned my gaze toward the pillow beside me.

A small teddy bear sat there.

A bear I had not owned at twenty-two years old.

I had returned to the past.