It's Too Late for Regrets - Chapter 4.4

A pale, slender hand tightly grabbed the soft sheet. Her lips trembled, then pressed firmly shut.
Her clenched teeth showed.
The tense muscles in her face twisted all at once in a terrible way.
A ball of fire kept rising inside her, but she couldn’t tell what kind of emotion it was…
A fragile corner of her heart suddenly crumbled.

“Hey, Berry.”
“Yes?”

Berry stopped making the bed and turned her head. Her lady was sitting up in bed, leaning against a pillow.
The blue eyes that always shone brightly were now cast low in shadow.

Five days ago, the Grand Duchess had suddenly vanished without a trace, shocking both Berry and Ronya.
But just a few hours later, she returned to her room.
Since then, she had stayed like that.

Berry asked with forced cheerfulness,
“What’s wrong, Your Grace?”

“To Eleanor’s people, I only look like his mistress, don’t I?”

Berry froze in the middle of removing the sheets.
“…Why would you say that? That’s not true. Please don’t talk like that.”

But she quickly regained her composure. Ines quietly watched her maid’s gentle smile.

For the past four days, Rayan and Kyra had been away from the mansion. They were handling something they said she didn’t need to know about.
During that time, Ines kept thinking.
‘What am I even doing here right now?’

She looked back on her role in this mansion for the past two years.
And all that came to her was deep self-mockery.

She had done almost nothing.
She opened her legs for a man, caught her breath in his arms, whispered meaningless words of love, and after they were done, when he left, she would fall asleep alone on the cold bed.
That was her daily life.

She once thought it was the image of a normal married couple built on love, but it was nothing like that.

The servants of Eleanor didn’t see her as their lady.
And Rayan probably didn’t truly think of her as his wife either.

Ines muttered in a dry voice.
“…They’re not wrong, Berry.”

“Your Grace, why do you keep saying such things…”

“Now that I think about it, it’s true. I’m no different from a mistress.”

She was just someone he came to when he needed to satisfy his desires.

“You knew too, didn’t you? Everyone sees me that way.”

Berry couldn’t bring herself to answer, but her silence was as good as confirmation.
Ines gave a bitter laugh.

Everyone but herself had known the truth.
Rayan, Berry, Ronya, Kyra, and even Edgar.

When she thought of the man who had protected her that summer, it became hard to breathe. Ines ran a hand down her neck.
It felt like a burning lump was stuck in her throat.

“What must the Crown Prince have thought of me?”

That day, hearing everything from the terrace, watching a man treat his cousin in a way no husband should, seeing a foolish woman say she loved such a man…
What must Edgar have thought watching them?

Edgar had left early that morning, but he didn’t leave without a word.
After some hesitation, Berry handed her a neatly sealed envelope.

“He told me to give this to you… before he left.”
“And not to tell His Grace…”

Inside was a short note. Ines read the clean handwriting.

<Write to me anytime. Say anything you want. I’ll be waiting for your story.>

Story? What story?
Ines knew she could never write to him.

How could she contact someone who saw her shamelessly spreading her legs without pride or dignity?

“Ha…”

She took a deep breath to relieve the tightness, but the heavy weight in her chest only grew heavier.

She chanted to herself desperately.
Still, because I love him.

‘No…’

But Rayan had never once answered her love.

As that truth came back, all her attempts to brainwash herself seemed foolish.

Ines gave a hollow laugh.
“Love…”

No matter how many times she told Rayan she loved him, the loneliness never left.

Was it because her love never reached him?
What was once a pure feeling slowly turned into a way to fill her loneliness.
Eventually, it became stubbornness.

Saying “I love him” was proof that she hadn’t made the wrong choice.
That’s why she clung to that love.

I’m not wrong.
This is where I belong.
I can be happy here.
He promised…

All the things she used to comfort herself now felt completely meaningless.

She was on the verge of being swallowed by a wave of emotion.
If the dam broke, she felt like she would drown.

Her thin fingers clutched the sheet tightly.

“This isn’t it.”

This wasn’t what she gave up Apael for. It wasn’t why she came to Eleanor.

Ines stood up and walked to the door. She had to see her husband.

Since that day, five days had passed, and Rayan hadn’t come to her once.
As if holding her roughly on the balcony had been just a one-night passion.

“Your Grace! Where are you going?”
“I have to see him. I need to talk to him…”

“His Grace is not at the mansion right now…”

Berry shook her head with a worried look.
“Where did he go?”
“He left for Laika early this morning. He might come back next week… or the week after.”

Ines let out a bitter laugh.
She couldn’t even wait one more day like this, and yet he left again.

She used her last bit of patience to wait three more days.
But he didn’t return.

No one in the mansion would tell her why the Grand Duke was away.
Not even Berry.

In the end, she had no choice.
She had waited for a man who never came long enough.

So, after two years in Eleanor, Ines decided to ask for Kian’s help again.

The third week of September—
In Eleanor, they called it “The Week of Tragedy.”

Every servant working in the Grand Duke’s house knew it.
Most had lived through it, but no one ever spoke of it aloud.
It was a forbidden topic.

That time of year was when Rayan became the sharpest and most sensitive.
He always left the mansion during this week.

Because every time he closed his eyes, he saw the bodies of his mother, father, and uncle in his dreams.
Even Ines could do nothing to help with that trauma.

He could only hope time would pass quickly.

Last fall, Rayan had also left the mansion for the whole week.
He stayed in a small town near the capital, where the Eleanor family cemetery was.

It was the same this year.

As if it was promised, rain always fell during the Week of Tragedy.
Autumn rain flowed down the tombstones like tears.
The chrysanthemums, once full and fresh, had long since drooped under the beating rain.

Whenever he stood in front of his parents’ grave, he couldn’t stop the memories of childhood from returning.

<Uncle Millian!>

Millian Eleanor—
The illegitimate son of his grandfather and a prostitute from a brothel.
He was the half-brother of the previous Grand Duke and Kyra.

As a child, Rayan liked his warm and gentle uncle more than his strict father.
Millian was good with swords, spoke well, and most of all, had a comforting presence.

But strangely, Uncle Millian was always alone.
Even with so many people in the mansion, he handled everything by himself.

<Can’t you eat dinner with us? Why don’t you come?>
<Your father and aunt don’t welcome me much, that’s why, dear nephew.>

His grandfather had accepted Millian into the family, but his father and aunt had not.
After the grandfather passed, Millian’s place in the house became even more unstable.

<When Grandfather was alive, they didn’t treat me this way. Strange, isn’t it?>
<If only I’d never existed. That undeserved affection just made me greedy.>

If only he hadn’t ignored those words his uncle often mumbled.
If only he had warned his father and stopped the dangerous thoughts before they grew.
Then maybe his parents wouldn’t have died so brutally.
And he wouldn’t have had to personally kill his uncle.

Every year, this time of year made him feel like he was being swallowed whole by regret.

Rain streamed down his robe’s hood.
Some drops hit his cheek and soaked into his collar.

“It’s not your fault, Rayan.”

Kyra spoke quietly beside him.

“Even if you had warned him, nothing would’ve changed.
No one in Eleanor ever thought Millian would do something like that.
He always looked so gentle on the outside…”

It was the same comfort she gave him every year for over ten years.

Without realizing it, he had bitten his lower lip, and the taste of blood reached his tongue.

He barely moved his lips that felt glued shut.
“Every year I tell myself I should be okay by now… but I’m not.”
“Feeling like a child again… it’s never a welcome feeling.”

It had been twelve years.
Yet every year during this week, he became fifteen again.

<Still, you’re always kind to me, dear nephew.>
<I like you too, Uncle. I’m sure Father and Aunt care for you deep down. Please don’t be sad.>
<Even hearing that makes me happy. I love you, my dear nephew.>

The voice of the man he killed still clung to him like a curse.

The day he tore Millian apart just like his mother had been, he cried for the first time during the Week of Tragedy.
Because he was disgusted with himself for once caring for such a man.
Because he hated how even in that moment, he was sad for Millian.

‘…I’m going crazy.’

Rayan closed his eyes.
Kyra said no more.

How long did they stand there, without moving?

Splash.
Someone stepped into a puddle behind them.

Even with the steady rain, the sound was unusually clear.
As if someone had stepped on it on purpose to be heard.

“…?”

His green eyes, lowered until now, slowly looked up again.

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