To Those For Whom Even Regret Is A Luxury (Completed Main Story) - Chapter 16
“Elena. Could you pass me the newspaper?”
Ariana calmly issued the instruction while sipping her coffee.
A quick-witted maid, sensing the cue, handed the newspaper to her instead of Elena.
“…….”
The moment Ariana spotted the headline, her fingers twitched subtly.
Staring blankly at the photograph of Dante posing with his rumored lover, Ariana quickly set it aside as if she’d just seen something unbearable.
“Most likely some cheap woman.”
Glancing sideways at the newspaper pushed closer to her, Elena wrinkled her nose again. Then, with a scoff, she lifted her teacup.
“He’ll probably toy with her for a night—maybe a few days at best—then toss her away. I just hope she isn’t foolish enough to dream that merely holding the title of ‘lover’ could ever lead to marriage with His Grace.”
That would be far too pitiful.
Bringing the teacup to her lips, Elena let out a small, mocking laugh.
“Really, the newspapers…”
“…….”
“Why are they making such a fuss over some girl who’s nothing more than a one-night toy? Now that poor girl’s probably getting her hopes up for nothing. As if she honestly believes she could become his official consort… What? Why are you laughing?”
Elena suddenly turned to Ariana, her brow furrowing sharply.
Ariana’s lips, curved oddly as she tilted her coffee cup, grated on Elena’s nerves.
“Oh, nothing. It’s just… delicious.”
Ariana smiled sweetly, eyes crinkling.
“The coffee.”
……What on earth about that murky-colored drink could possibly be so delicious it made her laugh?
It must be pure pretense. Elena scoffed and turned away—but Ariana had already risen from her seat.
“Let’s go. You should get up too. It’s rehearsal day, after all.”
“Right. Are you coming too, sister?”
Of course I am.
Without waiting for a reply, Elena stood up.
Elena always brought Ariana along—not just on performance days, but for rehearsals as well.
‘Though my sister has many unreliable qualities… still…’
Because when it came to serving her, Ariana was truly peerless.
Meticulous condition management, scorekeeping, and more.
Without Ariana, rehearsals would inevitably run into serious disruptions—though Elena herself had never once admitted it.
Just before leaving the dining hall, Elena cast one last careless glance at the infuriating newspaper—and grimaced deeply.
“Wait, what’s this now?”
The name printed in the corner looked familiar.
Rosalyn Tanner, Successful Singer Debut!
Rosalyn? If that’s Rosalyn Tanner…
‘Isn’t she the girlfriend of that idiot—Mark, was it?’
Had it been about a week ago? She vaguely recalled walking down the street and hearing some tacky girl singing—ruining her mood instantly.
Of all the nerve—that cheap street performer, who’d never even heard Ari once in person, dared to summon her likeness as if she were worth her weight in gold.
So, to make sure that brash girl never acted so arrogantly again, Elena had played a little prank.
She’d lured that foolish girl’s lover into abruptly canceling his performance without notice.
An experienced singer could just find another accompanist—but a clumsy, provincial newcomer like her certainly wouldn’t have such connections.
Elena had assumed she’d never see that girl again.
‘Yet she debuted? And at Paradise, no less?’
Hah, honestly.
The newspaper crumpled miserably in Elena’s grip.
Truly, today was one of those days where everything grated on her nerves.
* * *
“My, Lady Elena.”
The maid sighed in admiration as her brush glided over Elena’s translucent skin.
“You’re dazzlingly beautiful again today.”
Elena gazed at her reflection in the mirror and gave a faint smile.
Her flawlessly groomed golden hair, skin like polished white jade, lips tinted rose-petal pink—
Although today’s schedule only included a rehearsal, she could never afford to slack on her appearance.
“Hmm… Shall we get going, then?”
Elena slowly rose to her feet.
She knew she was running a bit late, but it didn’t matter. The protagonist always makes her entrance last, after all.
“This way, Lady Elena. Everyone’s been waiting.”
As Elena ascended the stage, she gave her head a subtle shake—ensuring her platinum locks caught the light dramatically.
But the expected greetings and compliments never came.
‘…What?’
Elena turned her eyes slightly and slowly frowned.
Another platinum-haired woman had already captured everyone’s attention on stage.
“Move the cello a bit more this way.”
“Ah… Yes.”
“Viola section, number nine—your string seems a bit damaged.”
“Oh! Sorry!”
“Has the piano been tuned yet?”
“Just finished!”
The woman darting across the stage, meddling in everything, was none other than Ariana.
Elena stared at her back, utterly flabbergasted.
Who did she think she was, strutting around the stage like she owned it?
The orchestra members, obediently following her every word, looked just as bewildered.
With sharp clicks of her heels, Elena strode up and blocked Ariana’s path.
“What are you doing, sister? I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”
“Why?”
At that calm reply, Elena let out a hollow laugh.
“Why? Are you serious?”
She shot an irritated glance at the maids trailing behind her.
“These girls can’t even get my water temperature right! I asked for lukewarm, and they brought me warm water—I nearly ruined my vocal cords!”
“Aren’t you a bit too old to be fussy about water, not even food?”
Elena blinked in disbelief at that composed tone.
“…What?”
“Being too demanding doesn’t look good.”
“What did you just say? Hah! Unbelievable. Is taking care of myself now considered ‘demanding’?!”
Her voice rose in outrage, drawing puzzled glances from the orchestra members.
Elena quickly cleared her throat and rearranged her expression.
Then, leaning in so only Ariana could hear, she hissed,
“What’s gotten into you lately? Don’t you realize you’ve changed, sister?”
“Me?”
“Yes! Even His Lordship mentioned you seem different lately. You know exactly why he favored you before, don’t you? Because you were quiet and seemed perfect for supporting your husband behind the scenes. If you keep overstepping your role like today, I’m sure His Lordship won’t appreciate it—”
“Ugh, damn it.”
Just then, Edward appeared, rubbing his temples in exasperation.
His face was flushed red, reeking of alcohol—and in one hand, he still clutched a half-empty bottle.
The orchestra members exchanged uneasy glances.
‘The Count looks really unwell.’
‘Oh dear… I wonder who’ll be today’s scapegoat.’
The pungent stench of liquor made Elena wrinkle her nose.
“Brother, how much have you had?”
“Dammit! All because of that bastard Lainer.”
“What?”
At the name “Lainer,” Elena flinched and glanced around nervously.
Marquis Lainer, though not as influential as Lucas, had still invested heavily in Lopez Opera House.
“B-Brother, watch your words.”
Edward rubbed his brow and muttered curses under his breath.
After downing liquor all night, his stomach was in shambles.
‘If only that damn bastard hadn’t provoked me…’
To distract himself from the brutal hangover, Edward raised the bottle again and took another swig.
Though the orchestra members were startled by his open drinking, it wasn’t entirely unfamiliar.
They merely exchanged glances and sighed resignedly among themselves.
‘Here we go again…’
‘Will we even make it home before sunset?’
Whenever Edward drank like this, a nasty habit of his always surfaced.
And that was…
“What are you all doing?! Start playing! Keep going until I tell you to stop!”
With ashen faces, the musicians lifted their instruments.
‘It’s begun.’
‘The hellish loop.’
Thus began the nightmare of a rehearsal—one that would only end when Edward’s mood miraculously improved or he finally passed out.
Edward was the tyrant of this small orchestra—and for good reason.
‘Just… endure it.’
‘After all, his compositions are brilliant.’
‘Geniuses are always eccentric, aren’t they?’
No one could deny that Edward Lopez, despite his terrible personality, produced exceptional music.
This new piece, “Aria of the Adulteress,” had a ridiculous title, but everyone agreed the composition itself was masterful.
This opera would surely be a success—and with it, the orchestra members’ reputations would rise as well.
So no matter how vile or petty Edward became, they had no choice but to stick close.
The music continued. Elena shook her head and left the stage.
As the performance went on, the musicians’ faces grew paler.
None looked whiter than Ruben’s.
‘My hand hurts…’
Ruben Oliver, 18 years old, the youngest violinist in the Lopez Orchestra.
That morning, while preparing porridge for his mother, Ruben had been struck on the hand by a collapsing cupboard.
He’d known the cupboard was rusted from last season’s rains—but delayed repairs due to cost, and now this had happened.
He’d thought it was fine, but every time he drew the bow, his hand throbbed. Ruben bit his lip hard.
‘I can’t let them find out.’
With the opera barely a month away, Edward wouldn’t wait for his hand to heal—he’d just fire him outright.
The violin was the only inheritance from his mother, a member of a fallen noble house. Though his orchestra salary wasn’t large, it was still better than manual labor.
‘I can’t let them find out. I can’t lose this job.’
He thought of his mother’s medicine, this month’s rent, the three months of overdue interest…
Each time the pain intensified, Ruben repeated these thoughts to himself.
But another thought grew louder at the same time.
‘What if my injury gets worse from playing like this?’
‘I heard of a pianist who had to retire because a tiny finger wound kept reopening…’
‘It’s fine—it wasn’t a serious wound… I’ll see a doctor right after rehearsal.’
‘But when will this rehearsal even end? It will end… right?’
His thoughts tangled together, spiraling into panic—
“Damn it! No, no—still not right!”
Edward, who’d been steadily drinking, suddenly stood and pointed toward the violinists.
“The violins are sticking out too much! It’s grating! I always thought it was absurd to include so many violins in the first place.”
It had been Ariana’s decision to emphasize violins heavily in this piece.
Edward’s simmering humiliation from Lainer’s dismissal now erupted darkly in his eyes.
“I’ll do it my way, as I should’ve from the start. What does some wretched girl know about composing? I’ll rewrite every note to match my standard. Hey, violinists number four and five!”
“Yes, sir?”
“Huh?”
Ruben jolted and looked up in shock.
“You’re fired.”
“What?!”
Ruben shot to his feet, stunned.
“C-C-Count! What do you mean?!”
“This piece doesn’t need so many violins. That’s my final decision—remember it.”
“But—!”
Edward glared.
“What? Got a complaint?”
Edward stood, swaying slightly as he approached—still clutching his half-finished bottle.
“Does some mere employee dare challenge his employer? No—does a commoner dare defy a noble?”
“I-I just… Huh?”
For a moment, Ruben doubted his eyes.
Edward hadn’t noticed the shadow looming behind him.
‘Lady Elena…?’
No—the hair was platinum, but her presence was entirely different.
A woman with the serene poise of a daffodil walked up behind Edward and raised her arm high.
‘…Huh?’
‘Could it be?’
Several other musicians also noticed the anomaly and widened their eyes.
“Do you even understand how grave the crime of insulting nobility is? How dare a brat like you stand so boldly—urk!”
Thwack.
With a crisp sound, Edward’s neck snapped forward.
“…….”
“…….”
Silence fell over the stage, which had just been filled with rich music.
All movement ceased.
In a world where time seemed frozen, only Ariana calmly stepped forward.
Holding a glimmering white flute in one hand.
Male lead reborn without memories — but he still falls for her.
The person he finds displeasing in this life turns out to be his cherished wife-master in previous life…
Xie Zhi and Fang Xianxing who had known each other for less than three days through a blind date sat in the same car in front of the civil affairs bureau. They had a disagreement and failed to get married.
Xie Zhi immediately took out his phone, slid through his contacts, and randomly selected the next marriage candidate.
The woman snatched his phone and hung up. Looking at his phone wallpaper, she awkwardly changed the subject: “An ancient painting, eh? It looks pretty good, it’s just that the person in the painting looks a bit like me.”
When he heard this, he sarcastically mocked her for being so delusional, completely unaware that, the person in front of him was the reincarnation of Wen Ru, the famous prime minister of Yuan Shun whom he most admired…
The female CEO who doesn’t want to get married with a divorce agreement in hand × The male archaeological researcher who will only get married if he’s sure he can get divorced
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