I Regret The Kindness I Gave You (20 Chapters Left to Complete) - Chapter 14
As if he had expected that response, Genovefa spoke in a magnanimous tone.
“Given the tight deadline, I’m not so unreasonable as to demand you master every other discipline as well. Those can be learned gradually after your official designation as heir. What I mean by ‘becoming a noble’ is that you must appear, in the eyes of others, impeccably noble—without a single flaw.”
“…Then why bother with this damned nonsense? Just make Merche the heir instead. I don’t even want to be an heir.”
“Oh dear. My foolish son. The position of head isn’t given to whoever is more noble or intelligent.”
Genovefa’s eyes shifted slightly. The mad, unsettling gleam that had lingered in his smile deepened into something chillingly serious.
“The head is chosen by the power. The power of Lupinus chose you—not Merche, but you.”
He finally removed his hand from Lud’s shoulder and stepped back a pace, then asked in a dry, humorless voice.
“Well then, now that I’ve offered you a suitable proposal, will you be my good son? The kind who apologizes to his mother and diligently follows through with the education he’s been assigned?”
Lud glared but gave no reply.
Yet even without words, it was clear his silence meant consent.
Seemingly delighted by such a dutiful son, Genovefa burst into hearty laughter, gave Lud a firm pat on the shoulder, and tossed out his final remark before leaving.
“After all, you are my son—I’ll grant you at least one gift. Don’t be so sullen, boy.”
The Lupinus troublemaker had changed.
News spread rapidly through the castle—vast in scale yet closed-off and quiet—about this transformation.
It had begun on a morning when the sun burned unusually red: the behavior of young Master Lupinus, once notorious for his foul temper and dubbed the “Prodigal Son,” had abruptly shifted.
Just the day before, he’d thrown his soup bowl and shattered it in a fit of rage, causing absolute chaos—but the very next day, as if nothing had happened, he went to his mother and bowed his head in apology.
“I’m sorry for what happened yesterday.”
Even his famously harsh tone, the mere sound of which used to make people grimace, had vanished entirely, replaced by impeccable courtesy.
Of course, no one was more moved by this change than Elizabeth.
She finally embraced her son, now seeming truly human again, and let hot tears fall in soft droplets.
“Lud… my son…”
Lud, who moments ago seemed ready to thrash about violently, instead quietly settled into his mother’s arms, easing the servants’ anxious watchfulness.
Elizabeth, in turn, kissed his cheek and whispered,
“I should have said this the day I first met you, but I was too busy weeping to tell you then. Lud, my beloved son—thank you for returning safely.”
Thus, the chaotic situation resolved itself overnight. Attention then turned squarely to Merche.
The son of the presumed-dead head couple had returned alive, and his problematic temperament had mended.
So what would become of Merche now?
On the very day Lud arrived at the castle, the head had dragged him before the Wolf Legion to undergo the Power test—so everyone in the castle knew the truth:
Lud was the direct bloodline bearing strong Power, whereas Merche was merely a collateral branch with only feeble Power.
While Merche’s precarious position sparked endless speculation and idle chatter, even Lud’s rarely visiting maternal grandfather came to the castle, clutched Lud tightly, and wept openly before loudly declaring for all to hear,
“Of course you should be the next head! How dare a mere collateral branch covet that seat?”
With each passing day, Merche’s standing grew more precarious. Everyone in the castle held their breath, awaiting the head’s decision.
Then, quite unexpectedly, Lud’s new etiquette instructor was appointed.
To everyone’s astonishment, it was Merche Ashtad.
[This is the timeline separator]The morning air had grown notably crisp—winter was drawing near.
Wrapped in a shawl thicker than usual, Merche strode through the door and walked straight toward Lud, who lounged carelessly on a chair.
He was sprawled across a seat with richly stained dark-brown wood and soft navy-blue cushions.
The man, who hadn’t taken his eyes off her since she entered, snorted derisively.
“Well, look who it is—the very Merche Ashtad who abandoned me.”
“I’m honored to make your acquaintance. I am Merche Ashtad, and from now on, I shall be instructing you in etiquette, Lord Lud.”
At her polite greeting—carrying a cool, crisp fragrance—Lud’s already sullen face crumpled further.
“What’s with the fake reunion act right off the bat? First time meeting? Don’t make me laugh. Our bond runs far too deep for that.”
“I apologize, but I’ve never met Lord Lud before. Might you be mistaken?”
“Merche.”
“I am meeting you for the first time, Lord Lud.”
Curses rose to his tongue but subsided.
“After all, you are my son—I’ll grant you at least one gift.”
…Ah. Could that bastard have meant this as the gift?
“Did the head tell you to pretend you’ve never seen me?”
“I apologize for repeating myself, but I truly am meeting you here for the first time, Lord Lud.”
“…So it really was his doing. Of course. He just had to push me to the absolute limit.”
After all, he’d declared his past as a slave erased—so he must have pressured Merche to do the same.
If he hadn’t, that would’ve been stranger.
Lud understood—she wasn’t lying of her own volition.
And yet… a bitter taste lingered in his mouth.
Her behavior—acting as if their entire meeting had been excised, as if he himself had been erased—grew more infuriating the longer he watched.
You already abandoned me once. Was it that easy to do it again?
An unspoken accusation surged up inside him but washed away like a receding wave.
“Fine. Let’s forget everything. Nice to meet you, my etiquette teacher. Should I call you ‘Master’?”
Lud abruptly dropped the subject of false greetings and moved on. Merche smiled as if she’d anticipated it.
“Just my name will suffice. Now that we’ve exchanged proper greetings, shall we begin the lesson?”
It was only a formal smile, devoid of sincerity—yet from his toes upward, a trembling vibration coursed through his entire body.
Annoyed by his own lack of control, Lud roughly bit his lip.
He crossed his arms and slouched deeper into the chair, then gave a curt nod toward her, signaling her to continue.
But Merche, who had placed her teaching materials on the table, didn’t touch them. Instead, she simply stood quietly before Lud.
After a moment, she spoke.
“Etiquette is how nobles prove themselves. It is the product of effort—effort to interact only with those of your own class, to share their exclusive culture, and to avoid mingling with outsiders.”
Surprisingly, her definition wasn’t as outdated as he’d expected.
He hated to admit it, but she seemed like the kind of teacher who knew how to captivate her students.
Still, he had no desire whatsoever to learn.
Resting a hand against his temple and tilting his head, Lud looked up sharply through his swaying golden locks, almost glaring.
“Why the hell should I learn that? A slave-born like me studying etiquette to become a noble? That’s just laughable. By that logic, anyone—dogs and cattle included—could be nobles.”
“You’re not entirely wrong. If we ignore the fact that etiquette is the exclusive domain of nobles, then yes—as you said—anyone could easily appear noble.”
Nobles alone were permitted to learn etiquette.
Those who learned etiquette could thus become nobles.
Occasionally, someone might brazenly teach etiquette to a non-noble, but such people rarely passed the threshold of even a minor ball.
Without noble connections, one wouldn’t be invited even to a small gathering, let alone an ordinary tea party.
One had to be born a noble.
Bloodline, family prestige, connections, etiquette—lack even one, and one would never be accepted in noble society.
That was their rule: insular, exclusive, prideful, and deeply ingrained.
“Especially for a distinguished ducal house renowned for both power and honor, its members must uphold etiquette strictly. Failure to do so invites public scorn as a disgrace to the family and brands one a sinner who tarnished the family name.”
“You all really do play childish games. What’s the point of all that…”
Lud abruptly turned on Merche, demanding, “What do you think?”
“If we consider etiquette alone, I don’t see it as particularly useful or valuable.”
Her unexpected answer momentarily halted his thoughts. Now he had to ask.
Lud ran a hand through his wavy black hair, his expression clearly incredulous.
“Then why teach it?”
“Because Lord Head wishes for me to teach you etiquette, Lord Lud.”
“…”
“And also… because I wish for you not to be disregarded or criticized among nobles on account of etiquette.”
“…And why would you care? Whether I’m scorned, criticized, or cursed at—what’s it to you?”
“Because it isn’t your fault.”
Merche looked at Lud with unwavering clarity.
Sunlight streaming through the window illuminated her sapphire eyes, making them shimmer with crystalline transparency.
“No one has the right to call another’s way of life wrong. If one’s environment is harsh, the person shaped by it will inevitably be harsh too. I only wish that no one dismisses you carelessly simply because you lack knowledge of etiquette. That is why I stand here, and that is why I will teach you etiquette, Lord Lud.”
Suddenly, Lud felt as if his face burned like it had been seared by fire.
His cheeks, where her earnest gaze landed—his eyes—his forehead and earlobes, where her glance briefly brushed—all were suffused with melting heat.
He both welcomed and despised that heat—despised himself for being unable to suppress his own yearning for it.
His life had been a desert since birth.
A parched, scorching desert where not a drop of rain ever fell. Nothing—no grass, no life—could ever grow in his desert.
Everything dried up and burned to ash.
But then, a single puddle formed in that desert. What seemed like a fleeting pool steadily grew—until it became a lake.
Perhaps, someday, even an ocean.
Lud feared that ocean—the very first to appear in his entire life—because of Merche, who threatened to melt him helplessly away.
Male lead is a Love-Obsessed Merman
When he discovers she has gone, he risks everything to pursue her on land, enduring agonizing pain to transform his tail into human legs…
One-line summary: Male lead chases female lead. The male lead’s love is a bit sick, an invincible love brain.
Synopsis
During a voyage at sea, Jiang Yang accidentally captures a merman.
Servant: I heard that mermen are fierce and brutal.
Jiang Yang looks at the merman obediently rubbing her palm like a puppy: “You call this fierce and brutal?”
Servant: I heard that mermen have no human nature.
Jiang Yang looks at the merman with wet puppy eyes, obsessively calling her ‘A Yang’ like a childish infant: “You call this having no human nature?”
With great difficulty, she releases the merman back into the sea and returns to shore.
Who would have thought that in less than half a month, the merman, who should have been freely wandering in the South China Sea, would shed his scales, endure the pain of losing his tail, transform into human legs, and come ashore to find her?
He kneels at her feet, rubbing her palm, with merman tears rolling down: “A Yang, don’t abandon me.”
_____
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