Dear Ex-Fiancé, I Hope You Regret Everything - Chapter 43

The news of the princess’s birth raced throughout the nation, and the Kingdom of Haira was dyed entirely in a celebratory mood.

It was customary to celebrate with navy blue for a prince and pale pink for a princess. As far as the eye could see, everywhere was filled with soft pink. On the main streets, pink banners fluttered, there were pink balloons, children holding pink cotton candy, and people wearing pink clothes coming and going.

Even before the baby’s neck could fully support its head, the debut parade for the first child of Crown Prince Skyford and Crown Princess Iris was held.

On a float drawn by white horses that slowly departed from the royal castle, Crown Prince Skyford and Crown Princess Iris were happily holding their newborn child.

“Waaaaah!!!!”

That rain-like roar of applause showered down upon Princess Windia.

“In the next ten years, there will probably be an increase in girls named Windia, period…”

The newspaper reporter recorded the parade scene in his notebook.

(I see, so it’s based on Crown Prince Skyford’s name. If I recall correctly, it meant ‘to cross the sky’…)

Hmm, hmm, he thought as his pen raced across the page.

(Wait? I believe Crown Princess Iris was called ‘Haira’s New Wind,’ wasn’t she…?)

After pondering for a while, it suddenly dawned on him.

“I see! So, it’s wind—Lady Windia!!!!”

He clapped his hands repeatedly, pat pat pat.

✳︎ ✳︎ ✳︎

“Windia is so quiet, isn’t she? Hey, Lord Skyford, she’s not crying at all amidst all this cheering.”

“Indeed. It seems she was born with more royal dignity and elegance than I could ever possess.”

“Is that self-deprecation?”

“Ha ha ha!”

Waving to the crowds who were waving pale pink flags with great excitement, they smiled at each other.

(Oh my?)

Slightly apart from the crowd, an Isac vagrant stood frozen, staring blankly in their direction.

While Haira’s trade was flourishing and internationalization was rapidly progressing, on the flip side, they were struggling with immigration issues.

(We must take swift measures.)

The Isac vagrant stared intently at me, then dropped to his knees on the ground.

(Oh…?)

Placing both hands on the ground, he then prostrated himself completely. His cheeks were hollow, his hair overgrown, but his features were indeed recognizable.

Seeing this, I gently whispered to the wind.

“My former fiancé, please be filled with regret.”

“…? Did you say something?”

“No, nothing.”

Pressing our foreheads together, we savored the happiness held in our arms.

✳︎ ✳︎ ✳︎

“Hey, you’re in the way! Move it, Isac!”

A drunken man kicked an Isac vagrant who had collapsed by the roadside. I couldn’t help but frown at the sight.

“They’ve been increasing lately… I should make a note for my next article. The immigration issue from Isac is the most critical matter that must be resolved going forward, period.”

The vagrant, who had crawled over without me noticing, grabbed the newspaper reporter’s leg.

“Hey, what are you writing?”

“Whoa! Stop it!!”

The man forcibly snatched the reporter’s notebook and fluently read the writing.

“…You can read?”

“I am a nobleman!! This… this thing!!!”

“Aah!! What are you doing?!”

He tore the notebook to shreds and slammed it onto the ground.

The newspaper reporter punched the man with all his might and scrambled to gather the torn pieces.

The punched man crouched down, groaning.

“Iris……!!! Dammmmit!!!”

He pounded the ground with his fists, bang bang, sobbing uncontrollably.

Feeling creeped out, the newspaper reporter decided not to get further involved and left.

✳︎ ✳︎ ✳︎

The remaining paper scraps danced in the spring breeze, and from the float, Iris watched the scene intently, making the man appear even more pitiful.

(I told you, didn’t I? Our paths would never cross again in each other’s lives.)

I heard that Count Bellad passed away not long after disowning Caine. There was no way to know what he had come to Haira seeking, having lost both his family home to rely on and his friends.

(You crushed the hope for your future and your happiness with your own hands, and then you withered away.)

I stopped looking at that pitiful person any further. In that moment, I felt I had truly parted ways with my bespectacled former self.

The cheers, the gentle breath in my arms, and the gaze Lord Skyford gives me—these are my everything now.

The parade procession advanced steadfastly along the road where happiness showered down, heading straight toward the future.