Regret With All Your Might (Completed Main Story) - Chapter 11
Unbelievable.
As Olivia’s lips parted slightly, the Emperor spread his arms toward the knights.
The man Olivia knew bowed respectfully toward the Emperor, as though representing the knights.
“I pay homage to the Sun of the Empire. Edwin Lowell Bicander. I am honored to stand before Your Imperial Majesty.”
“My proud knights have finally arrived. This banquet is in your honor—why are you so late?”
To the Emperor’s pointed remark, the man—the Grand Duke—replied impassively.
“My apologies. For a vow overseen by Your Majesty, an ordinary sword would not suffice, so I brought Ailaluten, the heirloom from Bicander territory.”
The Grand Duke gestured toward his scabbard. His dignified voice echoed through the banquet hall, momentarily silencing the crowd before they erupted into murmurs.
“Is that the sword? The treasure said to have been passed down through generations of the fallen Lowell royal house?”
“His Majesty coveted that blade so much—even offering the prized White Quartz Mine in exchange, yet he never parted with it like that, did he?”
“But wait—what vow is His Majesty presiding over? Isn’t this supposed to be a victory banquet for the war?”
Confused chatter broke out. The Emperor laughed heartily, his mouth curled into a wide grin.
“Hahaha! Indeed! A knight must, above all, have a lady to whom he may offer his honor. I’m so pleased my Grand Duke has found a worthy lady today—I shall grant him one wish.”
A wish granted by the Emperor himself! A commotion stirred in one corner of the hall, but the Grand Duke remained expressionless.
The Emperor subtly glanced toward the Imperial Princess.
In that instant, everyone understood. The true purpose of this banquet was to bring the Grand Duke back under the imperial fold.
The Emperor chuckled again.
“How could this not be joyful news? Our Grand Duke, protector of the Franz Empire, finally swears a knight’s oath to a lady—even if belatedly. Come now, Grand Duke. Make your vow.”
The Imperial Princess, dressed in a pure white gown, now held a large bouquet. It was the very moment when the princess—who had always received the collective honor of every knight during knighthood ceremonies—turned toward the Grand Duke.
The Grand Duke turned around and swept his gaze across the room as if searching for someone. The moment his eyes met Olivia’s, they curved into a long, knowing smile.
Olivia stepped backward—but the Grand Duke was faster.
As he walked, nobles instinctively parted to make way for him. At the end of that path stood Olivia.
“Princess Olivia Madelaine.”
A seductive voice called out Olivia’s name. With graceful poise, the Grand Duke knelt on one knee before her.
“It is my honor to introduce myself. Edwin Lowell Bicander.”
His previously blank expression melted away; within his elegant eyes, crimson irises sparkled mischievously. Just as the corners of his lips lifted faintly, someone somewhere sharply drew in a breath.
Some understood immediately the meaning behind that seemingly unnecessary self-introduction.
“The rarest sword on the continent—forged from both blade and gemstone, truly one of a kind.”
Only Olivia and the Grand Duke understood the meaning hidden within those boastful words.
“Might I humbly ask for the honor… of becoming your sword?”
The banquet hall fell silent as if doused with cold water. Olivia looked at the Grand Duke.
His breathtakingly handsome face, along with those crimson eyes brimming with spring-like warmth, gazed up at her.
It was strange.
Back in Luhairn when they first met, when she visited the Crown Prince’s palace last Monday—even just moments ago as he approached her—she’d always had to look up at him for what felt like forever.
Yet now, this tall, noble man—whose status and glory demanded that all look up to him—knelt before her as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
The very act of offering her the hilt of a clearly priceless sword, as though pledging absolute obedience to her choice, felt utterly unreal.
Olivia was just about to part her crimson lips—
“Regrettably, I must withdraw this vow, Your Grace.”
It was Leopold. He wrapped his arm around Olivia’s shoulders, a possessive gesture that made the Grand Duke’s eyes flash instantly.
“Are you interrupting the vow I am offering to Princess Madelaine?”
A low voice reverberated through the banquet hall. That chilling tone, cold enough to raise goosebumps, bore down on Leopold like a threat.
“Especially a vow already approved by His Imperial Majesty?”
The corner of the Grand Duke’s mouth tilted crookedly upward.
Daring as he was—though he ought to be looking up—the Grand Duke stared down at Leopold as if striking him from above.
The oppressive weight of those crimson eyes was overwhelming; Leopold’s grip tightened reflexively.
Feeling the pain from his grip, Olivia instinctively looked up at Leopold—but he paid her no mind.
“…Perhaps it would be wise to hear why the Crown Prince has intervened.”
The Emperor stepped in to mediate the tense atmosphere. Leopold bowed respectfully toward the Emperor, then turned to Olivia with a gentle smile.
But to Olivia, Leopold’s sudden attention now felt bitterly disappointing. She wished he’d at least ease the pain in her shoulder—but instead, he pulled her closer, feigning greater intimacy.
For the first time, Leopold was openly acknowledging her presence.
Yet strangely, he felt more distant than ever.
“Princess, you are currently my fiancée. Have you no consideration at all for the scandal that might attach itself to her if an unmarried Grand Duke offers such a vow?”
At Leopold’s stiff tone, the nobles began murmuring.
“She certainly doesn’t look proper—she’s supposed to be the most virtuous future Crown Princess.”
“Aren’t there already countless rumors following the princess around?”
“Exactly! And only by Her Majesty the Empress’s grace is this engagement still maintained.”
Suddenly, the nobles fell silent. A sharp, cutting presence pierced through them. When they felt that icy aura looming over them—
“How dare you…”
A single, low utterance dominated the atmosphere. The Grand Duke’s crimson eyes blazed fiercely.
“What scandal could possibly cling to the princess to whom I offer my vow?”
“W-well, that is…”
Not a single noble dared speak up. The Grand Duke shifted his expression and smiled gently at Olivia.
“Has this resolved the matter, then?”
“…If the vow is accepted, the first dance must follow. Doesn’t it seem discourteous to me, who is accompanying the princess?”
At Leopold’s dry remark, Olivia’s body stiffened imperceptibly.
Leopold had been noticeably closer to Maria Etel than to her—hardly the behavior of someone treating his fiancée with due respect.
Just as Olivia’s gaze dropped to the floor, fearing such a remark might be made—
“Oh, my.”
At that light, regretful voice, Olivia looked up.
“I thought the princess had come alone just for me.”
For the briefest moment, the corners of the Grand Duke’s eyes crinkled playfully. Then, as if nothing had happened, he calmly addressed Leopold.
“I assumed, unavoidably, that Your Highness was accompanying someone else. It seems I was mistaken.”
“Grand Duke.”
Leopold called out warningly—but the Grand Duke didn’t even glance his way.
“Surely a magnanimous Crown Prince like yourself wouldn’t object over something as trivial as the first dance.”
Leopold ground his teeth. Meanwhile, the Grand Duke looked straight at Olivia and added, as if joking,
“…Well, unless I’d proposed marriage to the princess—then perhaps I’d understand.”
What? Olivia’s eyes widened in shock. What on earth was the Grand Duke saying?
“Grand Duke!”
Leopold’s sharp cry rang out—but the Grand Duke simply stared back at him, as if puzzled by any issue.
“Brother, why don’t you mention her improper attire instead?”
A lilting voice cut through the taut atmosphere. It was the Imperial Princess.
After glaring venomously at Olivia, the princess quickly brightened into a radiant smile and stepped forward.
“The lady receiving a vow must wear white, symbolizing the knight’s purity. She must also present him with a flower as a token of permission and joy.”
Trailing off, the princess tilted her head quizzically at Olivia. Her sky-blue eyes—so like Leopold’s—fixed on Olivia with deep-seated hostility.
“It seems the princess is unprepared once again.”
“That’s right! Every lady wears white during knighthood ceremonies!”
“Now that you mention it—why didn’t she think of that? Surely she isn’t trying to break centuries of tradition right here and now?”
Amid the shrill voices, mocking laughter slipped through. Olivia glanced toward its source.
Lady Shamim, daughter of Count Shamim; Lady Staren, daughter of Baron Staren; and Lady Ribeorn, daughter of Marquis Ribeorn—all were the princess’s playmates.
“Perhaps because she’s never received a vow before, she doesn’t even understand proper attire. Then again, can we really blame the princess?”
The insult-laden remark vanished as quickly as it came—yet it pierced Olivia’s heart like a dagger.
As always, her father and Conrad, standing far off, remained silent.
“Indeed, Grand Duke. What can we do? My fiancée simply wasn’t prepared.”
Even Leopold sided with the princess.
Strangely, more than all that, Olivia found herself fixated on those crimson eyes watching her with quiet concern.
So cold when directed elsewhere—but so warm whenever they met hers.
It was absurd. What did a single glance matter?
Yet everything about it tickled her strangely. Slowly, Olivia parted her lips.
“…The first recorded instance of a knight’s vow in the historical annals was during the reign of Liam Franz, the Empire’s founding Emperor, and Empress Olika Franz.”
In that moment, Olivia spoke with more grace and composure than anyone else. Swept up in her poise, the nobles unconsciously fell silent.
Some among them, who had wondered why she brought up historical texts, now looked at her differently.
“The founding Emperor, who secured victory in the Asphalte Run War and established the Empire’s borders, embraced the founding Empress while still clad in bloodstained armor.”
Olivia gently eased her shoulder away. Though Leopold tightened his grip as if to trap her, she carefully peeled his hand off with her gloved fingers.
“The Empress’s white gown—worn as she prayed for the Emperor’s safe return—was recorded as being entirely soaked in blood.”
Leaving Leopold behind, Olivia took a step toward the Grand Duke. Meeting his gaze until the very end, she smiled faintly.
“It is said the Empress presented the Emperor with the flower she had offered at the altar—her gloves remaining pristine white.”
Everyone saw Olivia’s white gloves shimmer under the chandelier’s brilliant light.
The young ladies were right. Not a single knight had ever offered her a vow before she turned twenty.
She had attended every knighthood ceremony in a white gown, yet remained as still and unnoticed as a wallflower.
She never wanted to attend these banquets—but she had no choice. She was both the Crown Prince’s fiancée and a princess.
It was true she’d never received a vow—but that didn’t mean she didn’t understand protocol. Her etiquette had always been flawless—and always would be.
That was the best Olivia, as a Madelaine, could do.
“If we follow the ancient rites, there could be no more perfect reenactment than my current attire.”
Olivia lifted the hem of her gown slightly. Amid the glimmer of her pure white lace gloves, the deep crimson of her dress was more than sufficient to stand in for the blood-soaked white gown of the founding Empress.
“Thank you, Your Highness the Crown Prince—and Your Highness the Imperial Princess.”
Unlike Leopold, who glared coldly at Olivia, Reina’s face flushed bright red.
“Thanks to your clear intervention, Your Highnesses, I may now receive this vow without further disturbance.”
Half of that was feigned—but half was sincere. After all, the controversy had been quelled.
“But what about the flower!”
Lady Ribeorn, daughter of Marquis Ribeorn, cried out in place of the princess.
“Daring to offer a fleeting, wilting flower to His Grace’s purity—I shall instead present this jewel as a token of my heart.”
Olivia removed the jeweled hairpin securing her hair. Her lustrous silver locks cascaded softly down.
The hairpin—adorned with a violet flower and green calyx, sparkling under the chandelier—was a gift from Essela for this very banquet.
She never imagined Essela’s gift would be used this way. Still, if she asked later, she could surely replace the jewel with another. Strangely, she felt certain the Grand Duke would grant her request.
Placing the jeweled pin onto the Grand Duke’s open palm, Olivia met his eyes.
“Olivia Madelaine.”
Olivia grasped the noble sword resting in the Grand Duke’s hand. As her palm enveloped the hilt—colder than expected—a strange warmth instantly spread through her entire body.
“I joyfully accept Your Grace’s honor. May my joy once again belong to your glory.”
Holding the sword close, Olivia bowed toward the Grand Duke. Then, from somewhere in the hall, thunderous applause erupted. The Grand Duke rose from his kneeling position with a bright smile.
And in that very moment—
“Oh, my apologies, Princess.”
The Grand Duke collapsed slightly toward Olivia, as if embracing her shoulder. Before she could even register the fleeting warmth, the man gently pulled away with a soft smile. Though a sound akin to shock echoed from somewhere, Olivia paid it no mind.
“I suppose kneeling longer than expected made my legs go numb.”
He shrugged helplessly.
“I’d heard you were a splendid knight—but it seems your legs are rather delicate.”
“Indeed. By the way, you’ve saved this delicate man of mine every time.”
You saved me from falling, and from losing my toll payment—
“So since you’ve saved me already, save me once more. Grant me the honor of sharing the first dance with you, my lady?”
The Grand Duke extended his hand to Olivia.
“Can someone whose legs are numb really dance right away?”
“They’re fine now.”
The Grand Duke said it shamelessly. Olivia gave him a briefly flustered look and whispered, just loud enough for him to hear,
“…I should warn you in advance—I have no talent for dancing.”
“That’s perfectly fine with me.”
The Grand Duke beamed.
“I’m skilled in anything involving my body. This time, I can finally offer you a small help.”
Slowly, Olivia took the Grand Duke’s hand. As a strange mix of tension and relief spread through her, a refined voice cut in from behind.
“Congratulations, Olivia. My fiancée has at last received honor from the Empire’s finest knight.”
It was Leopold.
His piercing eyes locked onto the Grand Duke—as if declaring the matter was far from over.
Male lead first thought she played hard to get, only to realize she
really disliked him
Short intro:
What she can’t stand the most is the streets full of effeminate men, especially that so-called top beauty whom she avoids at all costs.
Shen Yaoxing looks at Jiang Mingyue, who keeps approaching her with coy shyness.
Shen Yaoxing: Bro, don’t be like this, I’m really about to throw up!
She fears nothing in heaven or earth, except for him getting close to her.
*
At first he thought she was just using the trick of feigning indifference to attract his attention. Later, he learned that she truly despised him.
This dealt a heavy blow to Jiang Mingyue, and he vowed to make her, like everyone else, fall at his feet in worship!
***
Synopsis:
Before transmigrating, Shen Yaoxing only wanted to find a reliable man to spend her life with. Who knew that after transmigrating, she would become a reliable woman herself…
A forced misandrist, highly skilled, and reliable female lead
vs.
An initially aloof and arrogant, later morbid, obsessed male lead
_____
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MANGA DISCUSSION
1 Comment
Chapter Comments (106)
The fl and the ml are ao cute !
I really don’t understand the logic of blaming Olivia for the mother’s death. It’s obviously illogical but none of them care enough about Olivia to treat her well regardless. Half of them were always cruel to her. This family has a herd mentality.
Ethela … I thought you were better
Inline Comments (650)
Such humiliation—she’d never experienced anything like it in her life.
“First time for everything”, pumpkin! Think of it as a new and exciting sensation to liven up your dull intellect.
“If you’re clumsy, at least pretend to be skilled, my lady.”
Says this as if it wouldn’t be the fault of the tutors hired for her. Stupid prince
Don’t cry.
Nothing wrong with crying when you are in pain and your “family” are a group of howler monkeys.
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Aelthia
Why does the Grand Duke keep falling into her? He was shaking the first time they met and also fell into her…does he have an ailment?