I'm Not Sorry But The Prince Will Marry Me Anyway-Chapter 112

Tristan’s trip to the Blue Atrium, which was supposed to take half a month, ended much sooner than expected.

Father turned to the messenger.

“Has he returned bearing news of victory?”

“Yes, my lord. However, he sustained some injuries...”

“How severe? Is he conscious?”

“Doris!”

Father snapped at me when I suddenly interrupted, but neither he nor anyone else actually reprimanded me further. The messenger hesitated briefly before answering.

“His Highness is fully conscious and can carry out his daily activities without issue. However, he will likely be taking some time to rest before appearing at any official functions.”

“Thank goodness...”

You damn bastard, don’t you dare die on me!

I collapsed onto the sofa.

Beside me, my sister awkwardly slid a cookie my way.

Was she... trying to comfort me? It’s okay, sis. It’s not like I was despairing over that fool.

Across from us, Percival smiled as if he were some magnanimous saint.

“Well, that is quite the relief. In many ways, it eases the burdens on all of us.”

But, of course, the messenger wasn’t done yet.

“As such, His Majesty has ordered that His Highness Prince Percival return to the capital as soon as possible as well.”

“...Ha.”

Percival’s lips twitched before returning to their usual polite curve.

Once the messenger left, Percival bowed gracefully before my parents.

“It seems I must take my leave sooner than expected. Please, enjoy the remainder of your gathering without me.”

“How could we continue celebrating after sending away our guest of honor?” Father sighed. “Perhaps it is time we wrapped things up as well.”

Mother looked as though she had been personally kicked out of her own banquet. My sister, on the other hand, looked like she was about to release venomous snakes into the party out of spite.

Well, fair enough. From her perspective, she had barely escaped the nightmare of the convent, only to hear that the celebration was ending early. Not exactly welcome news.

That’s when Percival turned to Father.

“For my sake, please do take your time enjoying yourselves. After all, just last night, I asked Lady Natalie a rather important question.”

“...Excuse me?”

“It is not the sort of question that can be answered hastily. I only hope that Lady Natalie will be able to reflect on it properly while she is still away from the distractions of the capital.”

“...A question, you say...”

“As it concerns Lady Natalie alone, I believe it would be improper to disclose it to you, Count. I beg your understanding.”

Percival bowed slightly to my father and then turned to my mother, lightly kissing the back of her hand. He had now exhausted every possible form of polite charm that an era’s ideal son-in-law could display.

Meanwhile, my sister’s expression had gone from murderous to I will personally uproot this entire estate and throw it at that man’s face.

The moment Percival left, my mother pounced.

“My dear, what exactly happened at the convent?”

“He complained that I drink too much.”

“Natalie! What nonsense are you saying?”

Surprisingly, about 75% of that was true.

Father, too, immediately latched onto my sister.

“Natalie. After losing the young duke, Prince Percival is the best husband you will ever have! Did you show him a softer, more graceful side of yourself while at the convent?”

“I did suffer in front of a horrifying convent bathroom.”

“Natalie...”

At last, their eyes turned to me.

“Doris. Before you arrived, how was the atmosphere between them?”

“When your sister fell ill, how did His Highness react? Did he seem... surprised by Natalie’s unexpectedly delicate state?”

Wow. Your daughter was sick, and this is what you’re asking?

There was only one way to deal with parents consumed by greed.

I lowered my voice dramatically.

“...Mother. Father. You are being far too cruel to me.”

“Cruel? Doris, what do you mean?”

“Have you already forgotten what the messenger just told us? I... my situation...”

This was the perfect moment to cry. Unfortunately, I wasn’t much of an actress, so I had to conjure up a painful memory instead.

Alright. Remember that time after the holidays when I went back to work and opened the book return slot... only to find a half-empty chocolate milk carton between the books?

“Prince Tristan has been injured, and my heart is aching from the news! And yet, at a time like this, you want me to focus on something as trivial as my sister’s love life?”

“...He is still able to carry out daily activities, though.”

“Daily activities are not the entirety of life! What if—what if he can never wield his sword again, the one he treats as an extension of himself? If that happens, I just...!”

I buried my face in my hands, as if overcome with grief.

Silence followed. Then, my parents cleared their throats awkwardly and stood.

“...We are sorry. We did not consider your feelings. We will adjust your schedule so that you may return to the capital earlier. Get some rest in the meantime.”

“...Yes.”

Once they left the tea room, I slowly lifted my face.

Yes! One crisis averted!

But my sister, instead of laughing at my obvious sham, simply stared at me and asked,

“...Doris. Do you need a handkerchief?”

“...A handkerchief?”

“Your eyes are red. It looks like you’re actually about to cry.”

“...Wha—no! I wasn’t crying!”

Sure, I was worried about Tristan, but not enough to cry!

Yet my sister’s expression remained strangely bitter, as if she had fully believed my awful performance.

Hey! I should be the one making that face, not you!

We still had a far greater problem to deal with.

“Hah... Well, at least we’re free of Prince Percival for now. I don’t know why the capital suddenly called him back, but it’s a relief.”

“Younger brother earns a medal and gets injured, while his older brother lounges around on vacation? Not exactly a good look. They probably want him standing next to Tristan, at least for appearances. ...Honestly, if only they’d summoned him a day earlier.”

I asked a question I already knew the answer to.

“Sis. Did you... receive a proposal while I was gone?”

“I love that phrasing. Yes, I was proposed to.”

“I see.”

“...Not going to ask whether I’m considering it?”

“No. I don’t want to pressure you.”

Even if she detested Percival now, my sister still couldn’t say “I will never marry him.”

If she could have, she would have already done so back at the convent.

She sighed.

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“Doris... don’t worry too much. I’m not someone who gets dragged around against my will. I told you before—I’ll just pick some reasonably attractive trash and—”

“Trash is still trash. I don’t want you picking anything rotten enough to stain you.”

“...Doris. I’m not exactly an upstanding person, you know.”

“I know. You’re the perfect example of a beautiful waste of space.”

“....”

“But I want you to stay that way. I want you to be so clearly, so undeniably a gorgeous, terrible person, that no one can ever mistake you for anything else.”

“...Doris. Wait. Was that... supposed to be touching? Because it really doesn’t sound like something a little sister should say to her elder sister.”

“In this high society, where proper Lady Doris is supposed to admire the chaotic Lady Natalie? I think it fits perfectly.”

“...You really are something else.”

My sister laughed.

It was a smile that did not suit Natalie at all—but it was perfect for someone’s elder sister.

“...You must be struggling, too. Sorry for worrying you.”

“Don’t be.”

Natalie. You are the only person in this world whom I truly want to carve out a path beyond the original story.

And so, at last, I asked her.

“Sis... if you took marriage out of the equation, what is it that you actually enjoy doing?”

“At first, I thought the only way to avoid the convent ending was to get married to someone.”

But then, Percival became the landmine in that equation, and now my sister was in a situation where choosing anyone other than him was nearly impossible.

I should have realized from the beginning that this was never her path to begin with.

Even if another road isn’t necessarily an easier one—

I want to know what path she would choose.

My sister tilted her head slightly, then finally spoke.

***

Our family packed up and returned to the capital two days later—sooner than originally planned.

My parents, clearly enamored # Nоvеlight # with this vacation, wore expressions dripping with regret as they suggested coming back next year and staying with the Marquis’ family again.

That won’t happen.

Because I fully intend to stop my sister’s marriage to Percival.

Which means cutting ties with all the people we met through him.

Of course, I have a lot of work to do before I get to that point.

First, I need to find more weaknesses in Percival.

But before that—there’s something I need to do for myself.

“Welcome, my lady.”

“Hello. Please inform His Highness that his fiancée, Doris Redfield, has come to visit him.”

Once again, I found myself at the royal palace.

I had come to visit Tristan as he recovered.

“Understood. Please enjoy some tea while you wait.”

While the maid went to ask for Tristan’s permission to receive visitors, I leisurely took a sip of the tea that had been set out for me.

A slice of chiffon cake, topped with fresh cream and Earl Grey leaves, only added to my tranquility.

Even if I don’t get to see him today, at least this wasn’t a wasted trip.

Honestly, I wasn’t expecting to meet Tristan right away.

This bastard had made me ask three times just to see him after the hunting tournament. Who’s to say he wouldn’t make me beg even harder this time—

At that moment, a commotion broke out beyond the door of Tristan’s private lounge.

“Y-Your Highness! Please, wait—your buttons aren’t even—”

“I don’t care! My fiancée is waiting!”

...What?

The hot tea hadn’t even touched my upper lip yet—

When Tristan’s door flew open with a bang.