I Regret The Kindness I Gave You - Chapter 79

I lifted my head at the vibration shaking the ground after reading and rereading books piled up to the point my eyes hurt.

Carla was running towards her from afar, looking pale.

“Huff, huff…. Me, Merche.”

“Carla?”

When asked what was wrong, Carla hesitated.

After chewing on her lips for a moment, Carla’s trembling voice poured out like a sigh.

“Fondo and Aquila officially declared their support for Prince Magnus. They’ve even sworn allegiance, just now in the newsletter…”

Thud.

Her heart pounded anxiously. Merche put down the book she was holding on the floor as if dropping it.

– I want to kill you. I have the power to do so.

– Merche.

– You can’t beat me. While you were fooling around with that silly family play in Venenum, I was diligently gathering information and finding divine objects.

Herself, who couldn’t find what she wanted despite countless nights poring over books.

Her own feeble and weak power, struggling to face Magnus even with all her might. …And Magnus, wielding great power and sworn loyalty from the heads of two meritorious families.

The harsh reality she had momentarily forgotten pressed down on Merche like an icy wall.

– The throne is not my place.

That. The protagonist of the prophecy is…

– It was never my place to begin with. I will not covet it until the day I die, and will live crouched out of your sight.

Was it really not her place?

In the end, no matter what she did, she could not win against Magnus, and had to live forever under his surveillance, suppressing herself and hiding in the shadows. Was that the fate given to her…?

– My lord. Do you want to protect Venenum and Rude Lupinus?

My family. Mariette and Carla who warmly embraced me. And… Rude.

Merche lifted her head with difficulty.

The man who stood by her side and protected her at every moment was looking at her blindly as always.

“I, I…”

I can’t lose you. I don’t want to lose you.

The emotions she had held back came pouring out. The desperation she had pushed back and suppressed with all her might flowed down her cheeks as tears.

Even if it was her place. Even if it was truly her place.

She wanted to protect it even if it meant giving up everything. She couldn’t lose it. Even if it meant sacrificing her entire self to do so.

On the day Fondo and Aquila’s oath of allegiance swept across the kingdom. That day, an unannounced visitor entered Ardor’s grand old mansion.

Outside, a rare drizzle was falling.

Playfully shaking off his damp hat, Prince Magnus raised the corner of his mouth slyly.

It was a bright laugh just like a boy’s.

“What brings Your Highness the Prince here?”

“Duke Ardor. Why so stiff, don’t be like that. Aren’t we acquainted?”

“We are not prepared to receive such an esteemed guest. This place is not worthy of welcoming Your Highness.”

“Anywhere in Ardor’s main house is esteemed. There’s no need to put down your family so much, Duke.”

Giselle Ardor bit her lip and swallowed a sigh.

Of all days, today that prince had become a figure she could not possibly ignore.

A new prince whose status was officially recognized by the royal family. Add to that the loyal support of Fondo and Aquila.

In terms of foundation, it was an even deeper and stronger position than the current king. So she could neither treat him carelessly nor question his current rudeness.

“Duke Ardor.”

“Yes, Your Highness.”

“I hear there is a very precious treasure inside this mansion.”

“A treasure…”

“A treasure bestowed upon Ardor by King Iker.”

Giselle stiffened.

Could it be. How did that prince know about it?

The fact that Ardor had the original portrait of King Iker was information monopolized by only a few.

For instance, those who held positions of meritorious families like Ardor, but were given other treasures instead of portraits.

At most, only about five other heads of houses would know this secret.

…Fondo and Aquila.

Thinking of them, Giselle clenched her fists tightly.

She was furious at their actions of arbitrarily divulging information about the treasure, but even more frustrated not knowing what the prince’s intentions were in seeking that treasure.

Creak. Her overly tightened grip made a stiff sound. For now, there was no other choice. She had to acknowledge it.

“Do you mean King Iker’s portrait?”

When she asked, the prince immediately affirmed without hesitation.

Then, as if finally getting to the main point, he deepened his smile even more and took a step closer.

“I’d like to see it. Would that be difficult, Duke?”

“…How could it be. I will show you.”

Giselle called in a servant and assigned him to Magnus. Magnus glided along, following the servant guiding him to the secret room where the portrait was hidden.

“So this is it. How delightful…”

The gold-leafed frame was enormous at first glance.

Even for someone of his considerable height, he had to raise his head quite a bit to take in the whole thing, befitting the majesty of a portrait of the founding king.

“Draw the curtain.”

“Yes, Your Highness.”

The servant who had been standing aside with his head bowed approached the frame and pulled the cord.

As he pulled the long cord with fluffy fox fur attached, the white curtain covering the frame slowly parted.

By the time the servant’s hands had become damp with sweat, the painting was fully revealed.

“…Ha.”

Magnus looked at the face of the magnificent man in the painting and sneered.

He couldn’t say this was the first time he had seen it completely.

After all, he had received a copy of this portrait from the spy he had planted in Ardor.

However, there was an unbridgeable gap between seeing a small copy and seeing the actual original.

“…Merche Venenum…”

Magnus murmured without realizing. He couldn’t help it.

He even felt as if that woman was looking down at him from within the painting.

Merche and King Iker… aside from gender, their appearances were chillingly identical.

Golden hair as if pure gold had been melted and poured, piercingly blue eyes, snow-white skin without a single light body hair.

The precise match, as if a carving fitting perfectly into a groove, made the hair on his entire body stand on end.

This is why. This is why I can’t let you live, Merche.

– I will bring you Merche Venenum’s head.

He recalled the oath of allegiance he had received from Werner Fondo, who had been red with humiliation that day.

Along with the sweet whisper Werner had proposed.

Only today did that sacrifice he had offered to bring seem sweet and desperately welcome enough to whet his appetite.

After staring at the painting for a long time with his chin raised in an eerie smile until it hurt, he finally called over his subordinate who had been waiting in the distance.

Merche had been acting strange lately.

Rude suspiciously stroked the small golden head almost nestled against him. The breathing sound that had just fallen asleep was languid.

He barely held back, gritting his teeth again, as the shoulders that fit entirely in one arm rose and fell slightly with each breath.

It feels good, but unsettling. What kind of feeling is this…

Though he was satisfied enough to go without eating for a month just from her leaning so well against him, it was clearly not something he could just let slide.

The Merche he knew was a woman far removed from being described as childlike.

If anything, she usually acted like a fully aged old person.

And then there was that time she suddenly burst into tears… Damn. His mood plummeted again as he thought of those reddened, swollen eyes.

He muttered a curse vaguely and pressed his lips tightly together.

“…Rude?”

“Huh, what.”

Our precious lady has sharp ears too. It seems even that little mumbling woke her up.

The woman nestled preciously in his arms stirred and ended up burying her face in his chest.

Just as Rude’s lips were about to rise endlessly at the welcome contact, Merche’s hand suddenly grabbed his arm.

Merche didn’t have much grip strength. Yet the loose fabric she grasped was pulled taut.

Only then did he see a pair of blue eyes shaking beneath him.

What they held was clear anxiety and deep-seated fear.

Her clouded face sank further into gloom.

“What. What’s wrong now?”

When he hastily probed, her clear face blurred blankly, then the hand gripping his arm slid down limply.

“I’m sorry. You must have been uncomfortable in this position…”

“It’s fine. I was enjoying it.”

“I should go now.”

“This is your bedroom, you know?”

“…Ah.”

He didn’t stop Merche as she pulled away from his arms. Her dazed expression was unbearably cute.

“Are you living without your wits about you? What’s wrong with you lately? You used to always have such bright, alert eyes.”

Her cheeks were faintly flushed, seemingly quite embarrassed at saying she’d leave when it was her own bedroom.

Should I tease her more? Contemplating this, he ultimately decided against it and rose from the bed in one swift motion. Surprised round eyes looked up at him cutely again.

“Keep sleeping. The unwelcome guest should leave so you can have sweet dreams.”

Merche never falls into deep sleep in front of him, no matter what.

Just seeing her eyes thickly coated with drowsiness gave him a general sense of how urgently she needed sleep, so for once Rude headed straight for the door without lingering.

“Have you woken up?”

“…Lady Martin.”

“You were already asleep when I arrived. You seemed to be sleeping deeply for once, so I didn’t wake you.”

She wasn’t sure how long she had slept.

Merche, who had been lying buried in the bed, slowly raised her upper body to sit up.

Lady Martin, who had been chatting with other servants, soon brought something over.

It was warm brewed tea. She smiled gently as she handed Merche the teacup.