Dear Ex-Fiancé, I Hope You Regret Everything - Chapter 16

I was born to my father, the king and a pureblood Haira, and my mother, who is a mixed-blood Isac.

Both of my parents have beautiful tanned skin, but in contrast, I had the skin tone and hair of an Isac person, perhaps due to an atavistic trait.

At first, my mother was suspected of infidelity by those around her, but surprisingly, my father defended her.

When the king himself protected his queen, everyone fell silent.

I was raised receiving affection from both my father and mother. I was their only child, then and now, and even when urged to take a concubine, my father stubbornly refused to bring one in.

As I grew older, I noticed that the looks from those around me weren’t ones of expectation for the crown prince, but rather carried implicit meanings like, “Who does this nobody think he is?” or “A crown prince with pale skin is an insult to Haira.”

Since my maternal grandfather lived there, I visited Isac many times. In fact, I felt more at ease there than in the castle. My grandfather was a half-blood of Isac and Haira.

Because of that connection, I became good friends with Isac’s crown prince, Trad. For me, who had no siblings, I quickly grew close to him, as we shared the same circumstances of being crown princes.

One time, during an unofficial visit, I spotted you at a party.

Since it was an unofficial visit, I was secretly hiding and observing the scene.

There you were, being neglected by your fiancé, laughed at, and even having your appearance mocked.

(How blatant. But…)

Somehow, I felt we were the same.

I’ve never been neglected or mocked myself, but the looks directed at us were identical.

Those are the kinds of glances that only those who receive them can truly understand.

They’re an attack that makes your legs freeze, as if you’re constantly being watched, threatening to shatter your sense of self.

(You’re a beautiful person, though. It must be because of that makeup and dress. Is it intentional, I wonder?)

If you were dressed in an absolutely wonderful gown and had a top-tier maid do your makeup, you’d possess enough charm to captivate everyone in this venue.

(Why and how did things end up like this?)

It made me want to tilt my head in confusion. But that was the first step in my endless curiosity about you.

After that, I visited Isac many times unofficially. Even Trad seemed to suspect something was up because of it.

“Aha, so Skyford has fallen for Lady Iris, has he? If that got out, the young ladies would surely faint.”

“Don’t be stupid. I know she has a fiancé. I’m not so tactless as to interfere. …But I can’t help wanting her.”

“Hey, you…”

“I know, I know I should stay calm. But it seems this kind of sickness can’t be cured by willpower alone.”

“Sigh… Skyford, it’d be better if you didn’t come here so often anymore. This is for your own good.”

(Damn that Trad…!)

As I stood there irritated, bathing in the wind blowing through the window, I saw you coming out of the Royal Library carrying a stack of books.

Even though I was told not to come, I kept visiting, and Trad was exasperated with me, but I grew fond of watching you become a bookworm in the library.

(Mysteries, all of them… So, you like mysteries, huh?)

On sunny days, I’d watch from outside the library as you leaned against the zelkova tree, quietly turning the pages.

Before or since, I’ve never known anyone who reads books with such beautiful posture.

Even the way you adjust your thick lenses every time they slip exudes an undeniable elegance.

(Oh, that’s unusual. Today you’ve borrowed math and chemistry books.)

But I learned that it wasn’t for her own interest but to help her fiancé.

(I shouldn’t think about it. I shouldn’t…)

But the intense desire to take you away from it all just kept growing, becoming impossible to suppress.

No matter how much it hurt you, I wanted to tear apart your feelings for Cain. Like my affectionate parents, if our bond was certain, I thought we could overcome anything together, even if you were from Isac, ignoring the voices around us.

✳︎ ✳︎ ✳︎

Your eyes remain wide open, as if about to overflow.

“…Because you like mysteries, I pulled some strings with a publisher to have it published. It didn’t sell at all, though. But I just wanted you to read even one page of it. Since you read so much, I thought maybe someday you’d come across it.”

I let my fingers glide over your smooth cheek.

“That was the only way I knew how to comfort my feelings.”

I smiled self-deprecatingly, but beautiful tears streamed from your eyes.

I wiped your cheeks where tears were falling one after another.

“Do I disgust you?”

“Not at all. When I think that among all those scornful looks, you… only you were looking at me with concern, it strangely makes me happy.”

“…That’s unexpected! I was prepared to get slapped, to be honest. I never intended to confess how I came to know about you. Even though I’m like this, I’m glad you’re looking straight at me.”

“…But publishing a book is going too far.”

“Well, it gradually became fun, so now it’s like a hobby. Actually, I’m thinking about a new work, and I’d really like your feedback.”

(Ah.)

I’m glad you smiled for me.