Dear Ex-Fiancé, I Hope You Regret Everything - Chapter 12

Today, I boarded a ship bound for Haira, embarking on a journey to Skyford-sama’s homeland.

The royal family of my country came to see us off, and I exchanged words with each of them in turn.

I found myself utterly captivated by Skyford-sama’s princely, beautiful demeanor and his flawless responses.

However, when we reached His Majesty the King and Trad-sama, though it wasn’t visible from a distance, they were whispering complaints to each other right by my ear.

Occasionally, though they made no sound, their shoulders shook with laughter. Could it really be that amusing?

“Maybe I’ll come again next week or so.”

“You don’t need to come for the rest of your life.”

“What’s that? You’re lonely, aren’t you? Want me to sleep with you again?”

“Don’t say such disgusting things!”

(This is a joke, this is a joke!)

If I didn’t repeat it to myself each time, it would be bad for my heart.

I couldn’t help but tug on his sleeve, but all I got in return was a mischievous smile.

Having spent time with Skyford-sama, I’ve come to realize that he seems to meet with the royal family of my country quite often.

It’s as if they’re relatives, close friends, or siblings… that kind of closeness.

Once we boarded the ship, my father and mother waved from a distance away from the others seeing us off.

I waved back hesitantly.

A slight feeling of loneliness washed over me.

It was an incredibly peaceful departure.

The ship advanced across the sea, heading toward the horizon. As I watched my homeland fade into the distant beyond, I bit my lip tightly.

The sea breeze combed through my hair. When I let my gaze drift with the wind’s direction, Skyford-sama wrapped his arm around my shoulder.

Looking at the arm embracing me, I asked,

“How is your wound?” But Skyford-sama made a subtle expression.

“Hmm? Well… I guess it’s fine now.”

When he flipped up his sleeve, not even a scar remained—just a smooth, clean arm.

“Um? Huh? Was it the other arm?”

“Want me to roll up the other one too?”

But sure enough, the other arm was just as clean.

“Huh? Whaaat?”

I was so bewildered that I started to wonder if I was the one going crazy.

(Did a new arm grow!? There’s no way that could happen!)

My swirling thoughts gradually drifted further from reality.

“Since we’ve already set sail and you’re going to become a citizen of Haira from now on, shall I tell you a secret?”

He rolled his sleeve back down and grinned. I like the way he fastens his cufflinks though I don’t say it out loud.

“To put it simply, the people of Haira can use various kinds of magic.”

“Um…? Like the Clear Glasses I wear?”

“That’s part of it, but that’s everyday magic. Even people from other countries with weak magical power can learn to do it with practice. But in Haira, we can also use healing magic, attack magic, support magic, and others that consume vast amounts of magical energy.”

“This isn’t a fairy tale. No matter how much of a novelist you are, saying something so story-like.”

If it’s just magic, even I can do things like keep my tea from getting cold.

I thought Clear Glasses were in that category, but magic that surpasses human understanding—isn’t that the stuff of stories?

“Well, for example, this ship is powered by magic.”

“No way! Not by heavy oil!? But Haira is one of the world’s leading oil-producing countries…”

Didn’t my country, Isac, go to great lengths to secure an energy source, desperate to form an agreement with Haira?

“That’s true, indeed. We can sell oil to other countries at a high price.”

“Se… sell?”

“Unfortunately, we don’t use it much in our own country. It’s just a commodity that sells for a high price—that’s all.”

“But Haira is an industrial nation, right!?”

He chuckled, “Fufu,” then said, “…It seems your homeland has already disappeared beyond the horizon. Now, hold on to me tightly.”

As he pulled me close, I felt as if the air pressure changed. Startled by the pressure of the gas, I closed my eyes.

“…We’ve arrived. Open your eyes. Welcome to my country, Haira, Countess Iris Dostoevsky.”