I Regret The Kindness I Gave You (20 Chapters Left to Complete) - Chapter 15
It must be erased. As if this sea had never existed at all.
Otherwise, if I don’t wipe this away right now… I’ll become unable to live without it.
His entire life, which had endured perfectly well without a single drop of water from the beginning, would crumble to dust.
“Save your flattery for that bastard who calls himself my father. That’s the real deception, Merche. You’ve been raised as a noble since childhood—what could you possibly understand about someone like me? What gives you the right to lecture me?”
Lud crushed Merche’s sincerity with the sharpest, cruelest words he could muster.
Merche stared at him silently, but their eyes no longer met.
“You came here because the Head ordered you to, anyway. Now that you’ve said your piece, get a grip on yourself and just do your job as a tutor. That’s all you’re supposed to do.”
“…I apologize. My thoughtless words have displeased you, Lord Lud.”
Unconsciously, Lud glanced at Merche’s eyes.
The calm lake remained as blue as ever, without even the faintest ripple.
Strangely, he felt relieved.
She didn’t seem deeply wounded by his words. In that fleeting moment, before he could even realize it himself, Lud felt a sense of reassurance.
It was an instant so brief he had no time to reflect on it.
Merche opened the textbook she had left closed until now and spoke.
“We’ll begin with basic etiquette.”
Merche was an excellent teacher.
She demonstrated each example from the textbook as if copying its words and illustrations herself, and whenever she encountered a difficult sentence, she patiently explained it again and again until it was clear.
Lud, too, was not a poor student.
Though he hadn’t realized it himself, he was surprisingly quick-witted.
Anything he saw once, he remembered at least vaguely; anything he saw three times or more, he mastered completely.
He struggled only with posture and gait, but even those he quickly mimicked after just a few repetitions.
Both were desperate—each fiercely teaching and learning for their own purposes.
Lud didn’t notice, but for Merche especially, this was a matter of life and death.
While tirelessly instructing Lud, she kept recalling her conversation with Genovefa.
—“I must revise our deal. Upon reflection, I’ve found far more reasons to kill you than to let you live.”
—“Why is that?”
—“You saved and healed my son, yes—but you also know far too much about our family’s internal affairs and matters. Moreover, you possess information regarding Lud’s origins. And beyond that, you even helped Greta Martin escape. Greta Martin is a criminal who deceived Elizabeth and abducted my son. Yet, knowingly, you concealed that truth.”
She had never imagined Genovefa would uncover her secret meeting with Greta Martin.
The guards she’d hired back then were mercenaries driven by coin—they would have easily revealed everything for the money Genovefa offered.
Still, she felt no worry for Greta Martin.
Mrs. Martin would not be caught.
The new settlement she’d chosen for her family was on Beneum lands—territory impervious to any outside pressure.
Even if traces were found, Genovefa would never again have any means of capturing Greta Martin.
Under Genovefa’s chilling gaze, Merche sank once more into thought.
Setting aside all other concerns, she focused solely on their deal.
Though he had spoken threateningly, Genovefa hadn’t actually canceled the agreement—he’d said he’d “revise” it.
—“What do you expect of me?”
If the reasons to kill her outweighed those to spare her, then she simply needed to add more reasons to live.
When Merche asked, Genovefa smiled slowly, as if he’d been waiting for those very words.
—“Less than two months remain until the Heir Announcement Ceremony. By then, my son must become a convincing noble—even if only in appearance, he must at least know how to play the part.”
After that preamble, he made his proposal—though in truth, it was little more than a threat.
—“Teach my son proper etiquette. Surely no other tutor you could bring in would be as capable as you, Merche.”
Transform Lud into a respectable noble by the Heir Announcement Ceremony—or her head would roll.
Standing at the edge of a cliff, Merche grasped the hand Genovefa extended.
Even if that hand held a dagger aimed at her heart, she had no choice—it was her only path forward.
After hours of uninterrupted lessons, they finally took a brief break.
Utterly exhausted, Lud slumped into his chair as if collapsing.
A servant approached the two seated across from each other and set out biscuits and tea.
Steaming teacups were placed one by one on the table, accompanied by neatly sliced biscuits arranged for easy eating.
Muttering quietly about his head steaming from mental exhaustion, Lud straightened up and reached for a biscuit.
“How long did it take you to memorize all this damn etiquette?”
Crunch. The biscuit shattered pleasantly in his mouth.
“Please be careful not to let crumbs fall when eating snacks.”
“Oh, come on. We’re literally resting after burning our brains out, Teacher.”
“Etiquette must become second nature—it requires constant practice without pause.”
“Yes, yes. You’re absolutely right, but I’m still a beginner, and it hasn’t stuck yet. So… ease up a bit, okay?”
Lud flopped fully onto the chaise lounge, stretching out his legs and crossing them.
Merche decided there was no need to correct him further and simply answered his earlier question.
“I don’t recall exactly when I mastered etiquette completely. I studied many subjects simultaneously, so I can’t say which was perfected first.”
“…I’d already heard rumors. They say they locked you in at seven years old and drilled you to death with lessons. If it were me, I’d have flipped the table and quit ages ago.”
Lud could have done just that. He was the Head’s son—unlike her, his sibling’s life wasn’t held hostage.
What if Lud had never been taken away and had grown up in this castle from the start?
What if the tragedy twenty-two years ago had never happened, and peace had reigned for everyone?
Then a little girl, orphaned and dragged here against her will, wouldn’t have spent over twenty years clawing desperately to belong somewhere that was never truly hers.
She wouldn’t have suffered the alienation she longed to ignore, nor forced herself to believe this place was her rightful home.
But what good were such musings? Reality remained unchanged.
Merche cut off her thoughts and looked around the room. This space existed solely for education.
She remembered clearly how, as a child, she’d sat here surrounded by countless tutors and books, receiving rigorous instruction.
One corner of the room featured plush armchairs, cushions, and a chaise lounge arranged harmoniously, while shelves of solid wood held books neatly categorized by subject.
“These must be the books Lord Hayton left behind.”
“Ugh. Don’t even mention that damn old coot’s name—it makes my head throb just hearing it.”
She recognized them instantly from their selection and arrangement.
These were brought by Hayton Linen, the tutor who had taught her history and general knowledge.
While most tutors had been temporarily dismissed to focus solely on etiquette and noble bearing, a few essential instructors—including Hayton—still visited the castle to teach Lud.
Hayton, a distinguished former professor of the Royal Academy, adored history.
More precisely, the history of the Ipero Kingdom.
He was famously fanatical about the kingdom’s founding myth, which most citizens dismissed as fictional legend.
“That senile old bastard’s lost his damn mind. Expecting me to memorize that whole fairy-tale myth? Ridiculous.”
“If you fail to memorize it properly, he won’t end the lesson until you’ve stayed up all night.”
“Yeah, that cursed habit of his. Guess you studied under that lunatic too. Craziest old man I’ve ever met—stubborn as hell and the most ill-tempered I’ve ever seen.”
“The founding myth may seem absurd at first glance, but it’s said to align fundamentally with the true early history of the kingdom. Once you grasp its essence, memorizing it shouldn’t be too difficult.”
Lud, sprawled sideways on the chaise lounge, propped up his head with one hand and yawned carelessly before grumbling,
“What’s this ‘essence’ you keep talking about? If you know it so well, why don’t you explain it yourself?”
“If you wish, I shall.”
Merche opened the topic effortlessly.
“All beginnings and origins stem from the sea.”
The Sea’s Land—that’s what the kingdom’s people called the world they lived in.
Though the vast continent held many large and small nations and numerous ethnic minorities besides the Ipero Kingdom, every single one of them lived with one truth etched deep into their bones:
Submit to the sea. Worship it. And fear it.
In a world where the sea covered far more area than dry land, the sea itself was divine.
People revered the twin deities symbolizing the sea: Nilam and Nisha.
They also believed the mystical powers manifesting in this land—the so-called Authorities—were blessings bestowed by the sea.
Among the countless scattered Authorities, six uniquely powerful ones emerged—each governing a specific divine beast.
Those six families bearing such Authorities became the founding noble houses of today.
“It is said that Ipero’s first king was beloved by the god Nilam. Some scholars even claim he was Nilam’s earthly incarnation, though this remains merely a hypothesis and cannot be fully trusted.”
The first king of Ipero was the original sovereign who reigned above all Authorities.
Even the six great families, objects of widespread awe and terror, knelt before him as the one and only ruler.
According to myth, he was shaped by the twin gods themselves, born from the primordial sea where he once slumbered, and only after enduring the sea’s trials did he attain his supreme dominion.
“Born from the sea? That’s just nonsense.”
Lud scoffed, but Merche shook her head, claiming she couldn’t know for sure.
Myths leaned toward fiction—but they were never entirely false.
It was precisely the blend of truth and fiction that made them myths.
“It’s also said that, decades ago, someone gifted with the Authority of Prophecy foretold the rise of a second sovereign—one who, in the near future, would surpass even the first king in greatness.”
Male lead is a Divorced Husband
She said to him: “Tell me, what makes you like me? I’ll change it!”
Liu Changning transmigrated into a female cannon fodder character in a female-dominant novel.
After reading the first half of the novel’s plot, the first thing she did upon transmigration was to divorce the Pan Jinlian-style male protagonist she had just married.
She indulged herself, pretending to be ugly and poor.
But as time passed, the way that man looked at her became more and more unusual…
Liu Changning was dumbfounded: Tell me, what makes you like me? I’ll change!
――
This lifetime, Pei Yuanshao was rejected by the same woman twice!
The first time, she drove him away. Forced by the situation, he endured the waves of anger in his heart, yielding and humbling himself.
That person lay slanted on a rocking chair, her sallow face emotionless: “If you don’t want a divorce, go cook!”
Pei Yuanshao’s face was dark and gloomy: “You!”
The second time, after the crisis in Jinling City was resolved, the new emperor sent someone to pick him up. He turned around, stammering: “I… I have to go. If you keep me…”
That person lay on the kang bed, her back to him, as if she had long anticipated this day, crisp and clear: “Goodbye!”
Pei Yuanshao was so angry his fingers trembled: “You… you!”
The mission of family and country made him restrain himself, averting his eyes and turning to leave this broken household.
Two years later, they met again. Seeing her ethereal face, his body shook like a sieve.
“She was originally a ‘she’!”
At the Qionglin Banquet, the top scholar of the imperial examination, a talented person with exceptional speech and conduct, all the unmarried young gentlemen from aristocratic families looked at her with shy and timid eyes.
The peerless imperial official Pei Yuanshao felt the anger in his heart erupt. He pointed at the woman surrounded by the crowd at the Qionglin Banquet, his thin lips slightly curled: “Little sister, I wants that person to be the wife-master of my Mingde Prince Manor.”
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