Dear Ex-Fiancé, I Hope You Regret Everything - Chapter 17

“More importantly, Lord Skyford.”

The click-clack of approaching footsteps from down the hallway came to an abrupt stop right outside the room.

This was followed by a sharp, loud knock.

The suddenness of it made me feel like my heart might leap right out of my mouth.

In the tense, wire-taut silence, a man’s voice rang out.

“Lady Dostoevsky, are you in there?”

Immediately, I thought, (It would be bad if they realized we’re here alone together.)

“Y-yes! I am! I am making use of His Highness’s kindness to change my attire.”

“Do you happen to know where His Highness might be?”

My eyes met Lord Skyford’s. I saw him give the slightest shake of his head, and I swallowed hard.

“I believe he may have returned to his office, or perhaps gone to change his own clothes.”

“I see. My apologies for disturbing you while you were changing.”

We listened to the footsteps recede, and then we both breathed simultaneous sighs of relief, our hands going to our chests.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Lord Skyford run his hand through his hair and loosen the buttons of his shirt.

For some reason, my cheeks grew hot watching his long fingers wipe away sweat.

The memory of the kiss surfaced, and my heartbeat grew loud and bothersome. The mere thought that he might notice it made it pound even more erratically.

“…Well, we can’t linger here long either. Shall we return to the main hall?”

(Ah, in the end…)

I hadn’t been able to ask him what he meant by ‘cursed blood.’

The only thing I could say for certain was that I couldn’t let my guard down in this castle.

The connection between Haira and Isac seemed to run deeper than I had thought.

(And it seems the history passed down in Isac is completely different from the one in Haira.)

According to the Isac historical record that I know, it was Haira who was the aggressor, the one who invaded. The only narrative I’ve ever known is that Isac repelled them and achieved victory.

Isac only became known as an oil-producing nation in modern times. That’s a story from much later.

(But is this a version of history conveniently tailored for Isac?)

It must be different from Haira’s historical records.

Nowadays, uncovering the truth would be the harder task.

Even though I haven’t witnessed it myself, if they could wield powerful magic like Lord Skyford described, then why did Haira suffer defeat?

(Isac was victorious, Haira was defeated… Is that truly what happened?)

✳︎ ✳︎ ✳︎

Even though I thought I would never be chosen again and had braced myself for punishment, I was somehow kept on as the attendant for the Countess, Iris Dostoevsky.

I let out a heavy sigh. Why does this young lady persistently insist on having me style her hair?

(Is she an idiot?)

A palace maid showing malice towards a lady destined to marry in from another country—under normal circumstances, I’d be facing the gallows.

My continued service to her is, in itself, a powerful statement of my profound distaste for it.

(I’ve said it clearly: I would rather die than serve anyone from Isac. Has the message not gotten through?)

I want her to hurry up and go back to her own country. I want my previous work environment back. If that’s not possible, then I’ll just have to hold fast to the pride of being a maid of the Hairan royal household and die.

Serving a young lady who is a pure-blooded Isac, born and raised there, is nothing but humiliating to me. It makes me sick.

‘I’m embarrassed by my lack of study, but I would be so grateful if you could teach me various things.’

Her words from the bath resurfaced.

Does it feel good to put on this nice-girl act? I’ve heard Isacians are overly concerned with appearances, so I’m sure it must. Is this how she ingratiated herself with Lord Skyford too?

It makes my skin crawl.

According to Lord Skyford’s report, I heard something about her fiancé’s son and her own maid having an affair.

I don’t know if it’s true or a lie, but if it’s true, it just shows she only has the capacity to drive her own maid to such acts. If it’s a lie, then it’s just a scheme to ensnare Lord Skyford.

Either way, it’s utterly nauseating.

I have the pride of having served the Hairan royal family. I hold no sworn loyalty for a woman like this. If I were forced to swear it, I’d rather be dead.

(Now then, what hairstyle shall I put you in?)

The funeral hairstyle would be good. The traditional wedding hair arrangement would be good too. Yes, why not give you the bridal updo? Since your very presence is out of place, a head full of flowers would surely suit you perfectly.

Heh. I felt the corner of my mouth twitch upwards slightly, and I hid it with a swallow.

In the mirror, Lady Iris simply maintained her gentle smile.

(Silly girl. You haven’t noticed a thing.)

However, without her smile faltering, Lady Iris spoke.

“Fonmi, you know it’s not that I want to be friends with you.”