To Those For Whom Even Regret Is A Luxury (Completed Main Story) - Chapter 4
“……A musical idea? What’s got you all worked up?”
Edward asked with feigned indifference.
Yet, for just an instant, a glint of greed flickered unmistakably in his eyes.
“Hmm, it’s probably nothing extraordinary. As the saying goes, you can’t get anything out if you never put anything in—and you haven’t learned a single thing about music.”
It was the same old lecture, drilled into my ears so many times it felt like nails hammered in.
In the past, hearing those words would make me ashamed of my own ignorance—after all, no matter how hard I studied harmony later on, it always felt endless.
I hadn’t even known back then that Edward deliberately gave me textbooks filled with errors.
“That’s right. Compared to you, the valedictorian of Ende Royal Academy of Arts, I’m little more than an ignoramus.”
I nodded with a smile, and Edward raised one eyebrow.
“You certainly know your place—that’s easily your only redeeming quality.”
“But speaking of the academy, something odd came to mind recently.”
I frowned as I spoke.
“The Crown Prince of Ende Kingdom was in the same class as you, wasn’t he?”
“……What’s this sudden talk about?”
“But lately, there’s been a rumor that the prince himself was the valedictorian of that class. It almost seems like he’s the one spreading such nonsense himself…”
Pretending to be deeply concerned, I fixed Edward with a serious gaze.
“He’ll be in the capital soon for the upcoming ‘Founding Day Festival.’ I really must meet him—even if it means risking rudeness—and ask him not to tarnish your honor with false stories.”
“What nonsense are you spouting!”
Edward blurted out in alarm, then quickly coughed to cover it up.
“You don’t even know what you’re talking about! There isn’t just one valedictorian—each subject selects its top student, and they’re all collectively called valedictorians! Don’t go bothering His Highness over nothing!”
“Oh… so you only ranked first in one particular subject, not overall?”
I widened my eyes as if finally understanding.
Edward scowled irritably and turned his back to me.
“Yes, exactly. Now drop this pointless chatter—”
“Oh, come to think of it, I think I saw a trophy tucked away in the storage room. Looking back now, the inscription on it must have been the subject name. What was it again…”
I tilted my head, puzzled.
“‘The Art of Becoming a Virtuous Wife and Wise Mother,’ perhaps…?”
“That’s impossible!”
Edward whirled around and snapped at me.
I swallowed a smirk deep in my throat.
Edward had gone around bragging that he graduated as valedictorian of the arts academy—but in truth, he’d barely managed to come first in just one etiquette class.
And even that class had been on the verge of cancellation due to a lack of enrollees.
After all, in the far more progressive Ende Kingdom, few students aspired to become “virtuous wives and wise mothers.”
In my past life, I’d stumbled upon this truth while cleaning the storage room and quietly kept it to myself.
Because tarnishing the reputation of Edward Lopez, “descendant of a musical master,” would mean tarnishing my grandfather’s honor as well.
“What absurd nonsense are you spouting! Why on earth would I take such a class!”
“Oh… I’m sorry.”
I covered my mouth with feigned shock at Edward’s outburst.
“I must have misread it.”
“Of course you did! What were you even doing crawling around in the storage room? Are you a maid? I told you not to embarrass yourself with ignorance!”
“I’m sorry, Brother.”
I bowed obediently, and Edward clenched his fists, shaking them in frustration but unable to do more.
“Damn it!”
Unable to contain himself, Edward exhaled roughly and turned back around.
Fuming, he strode ahead, and I hurried after him with quick little steps.
Soon, we arrived at the lobby.
“Brother, may I play over there today?”
I pointed toward the grand piano placed beside the wide window in the lobby.
Edward immediately narrowed his eyes.
“What?”
Edward had never once allowed me to practice in the lobby during “lessons.”
He must not have wanted anyone to see me play.
“Stop talking nonsense and come here. Do I have to remind you again that the lobby piano is precious and delicate? If you recklessly touch it, you’ll break it!”
“I’m sorry, Brother.”
I bit my lip, pretending to be flustered.
“But for some reason, I’ve been feeling unusually down today… If I don’t sit in the sunlight, my inspiration might just fade away.”
“Inspiration? What the hell are you talking about!”
At Edward’s angry retort, I drooped the corners of my eyebrows dejectedly.
“Do you really think you’re some great artist or something? Since when did you catch this ridiculous ‘artist’s disease’!”
Normally, he would’ve dragged me straight to his studio in a rage—but perhaps because I’d mentioned my inspiration might vanish, Edward hesitated to act rashly.
With my head bowed, I subtly lifted the corners of my lips.
‘You must be anxious.’
The Saint Benedict’s Day commemorative opera. I remembered that time five years ago clearly.
Edward had intended to fill this large-scale opera entirely with his own compositions.
Yet, even just a month before the performance, he’d still failed to come up with a decent musical idea—and ultimately stole my music.
So for Edward, this was precisely the moment when he desperately needed the music I created.
“Damn it, just play already! Let’s hear how brilliant this so-called ‘inspiration’ of yours really is!”
Edward jerked his chin irritably toward the piano.
I thanked him gently and sat down at the instrument.
As I placed my hands on the keys, a cool sensation seeped into my fingertips.
I took a slow, deep breath.
‘What music did I compose around this time?’
Ariana Lopez, aged twenty.
Timid, lacking confidence, barely noticeable—like a ghost.
Of course, even right before my death, I hadn’t changed much—but over those five years, something had undeniably transformed.
‘Memories.’
The memory of secretly delighting as I watched audiences enraptured by my music.
The memory of realizing that perhaps, just perhaps, my own music alone was enough—even without Edward.
Those memories slowly, steadily layered upon my self-worth.
“……”
I closed my eyes and gently pressed the keys.
In the quiet lobby, a clear A note resonated.
Soon, the notes gathered and began to dance.
Gradually quickening—accelerando.
Pouring out my pent-up passion and resentment into flats.
Allegro—faster still—presto—and finally, beyond control…
Amid the torrent of intense sound, I released the oars and surrendered myself to the current.
Prestissimo. Spilling my heart onto the notes at a frantic pace, I felt a rush of liberation flood my chest.
And just as my fingers began to ache and my breath grew short—
“…Hah.”
I stopped playing entirely.
“……”
Silence crashed into the lobby as the music abruptly cut off.
I opened my eyes, breathing slightly heavily.
A strange elation and satisfaction.
Whenever an impromptu piece resonated perfectly with my soul, this feeling always surged through me—
so powerfully that I couldn’t take a single step until I’d fully savored it.
“Heh…”
A dazed voice sounded from behind me.
I slowly turned around.
Edward’s eyes were wide open—as if someone had just struck him hard on the back of the head.
Filling those large pupils were dark, viscous emotions:
shock, astonishment—and above all, searing jealousy.
‘How fascinating, Brother.’
I thought quietly.
Perhaps it was because I’d witnessed every despicable layer of the man I called my brother—paid for with my own death—
that I could now read Edward’s thoughts as clearly as if they lay in the palm of my hand.
Edward fumbled with his words before speaking.
“Truly…”
The same automatic critique he always spat out like a wind-up doll after hearing me play once again escaped his lips.
“R-Really… ahem! Truly… really awful—”
Clap, clap, clap.
At that moment, enthusiastic applause rang out.
“Wow, wow…!”
An awestruck voice cried out in admiration.
Sophie stood there, clapping with an impressed expression.
“Miss Ariana, that was incredible! Honestly, it was the best performance I’ve ever heard!”
Following Sophie’s lead, the servants who’d been peeking around began applauding as well.
The unexpected ovation spread like a wave.
After blinking slowly a few times, I soon spotted a familiar face.
“Good heavens, Ari—you.”
Lucas stood there, mouth agape in astonishment.
Leaves clung to his shirt—likely from finishing some errand in the bushes—and his trousers were oddly disheveled.
Nonetheless, he brazenly wrapped his arm around my neck. Instinctive goosebumps prickled across my skin.
“But seriously, what was that just now? Since when could you play like that? And what’s the title of that piece?”
“It was an improvisation.”
I smiled sweetly as I replied.
“An improvisation? Good heavens, really?”
I could feel Edward gripping the piano stool tightly from behind me.
“Ahem! Well heard, Ariana. Looks like you drew inspiration from the piece I composed yesterday—didn’t it also start in a minor key?”
Edward forced a laugh while pointing out something barely even a commonality.
I didn’t bother denying it and simply returned his smile.
“Seems that way. What do you think, Brother? With a little refinement, could we use it for this year’s Saint Benedict’s Day opera?”
“Hmm. Since it’s improvisational, it’s rather sloppy in many places—so I’d certainly need to revise it thoroughly…”
Edward cleared his throat loudly, and Lucas quickly chimed in.
“With Count Lopez’s masterful arrangement skills, there’s no question—it should definitely go in the opera!”
“Y-Yes, quite right. Then we shall proceed accordingly, Your Grace.”
“I’m glad to hear that.”
I offered a gentle smile.
“I thought the vocal range would suit Elena’s voice perfectly.”
As I spoke, I turned toward Elena, who had just entered following Lucas.
Elena wore a sullen, displeased expression.
She probably didn’t like all the attention suddenly focused on me.
Startled by the sudden gaze, Elena quickly smoothed her expression.
“Huh? Me? …Well, I guess so?”
Then, pouting, she muttered petulantly,
“I—I’m not sure, Sister. It feels a bit too low for me to show off my full abilities…”
“Really? What a pity. I’d just thought of the perfect title for this piece.”
“What is it, Ari?”
Lucas asked eagerly, his eyes shining with friendly interest.
Lucas had an uncanny nose for money—if I produced a high-quality composition, he’d temporarily treat me kindly like this.
Of course, even that stopped after our marriage—but right now, I was still a fish he hadn’t quite caught.
“…What is it?”
Seeing Lucas’s enthusiasm, Elena reluctantly asked as well.
“Well…”
I beamed at her—the woman who would become the prima soprano of this opera.
“‘The Arioso of the Adulteress.’”
When the male lead is punished by carrying the female lead’s child and having periods like a woman
“I’ve given birth to two children for you, yet you still think about him.
Was I nothing but his substitute to you from beginning to end?”
Synopsis:
Meng Huan, a scumbag who has dated countless girlfriends, transmigrates to a female-dominated country.
Day 1: Whether it’s female dominance or not doesn’t matter. The beauties here are passionate and amorous. Isn’t it easier to date them than in modern times?
Day 2: After a night, Meng Huan discovers the differences in the female-dominated world. Men here actually have chastity locks and menstrual cycles. This hinders his ability to perform, damn it!
Day 3: What’s wrong with sleeping around? I don’t want you to marry me. I’m meant to be a playboy. I don’t care about male virtues… What? You want to drown me in a pig cage? Marry, I’ll marry!
Day N: Meng Huan inexplicably vomits and receives the shocking news of his life… He’s pregnant.
_____
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