When You Started to Regret - Chapter 27

“Ah…”

Realizing her mistake, Vanessa buried her face in her hands and sank to the floor. Fernando, who had been silently watching, now wore a stunned, vacant expression—as if a horrible truth had just dawned on him.

“Dominic Cheshire… the one Elaine’s been talking about—is that him?”

His voice came out pale and hollow, drained of all color.

“…”

Vanessa didn’t answer. But that silence was the clearest answer he could have received.

‘If you’re both okay with it, I’d like to invite Dominic to the Aiola estate next time and introduce him properly.’
‘Yes, Sir Dominic Cheshire. Don’t you know him? We first met at the spring party here at the estate.’

He remembered how Elaine had glowed as she spoke, introducing the man she loved with innocent joy.

Why… why didn’t I notice him until now?

Elaine claimed they met for the first time at the Aiola spring party, but his name wasn’t on the guest list.

During her debut at the royal ball, Fernando and Vanessa had both stepped out mid-event to attend to a sudden summons from the queen. Elaine had stayed behind—blushing, dreamy-eyed, speaking of coincidences and fate, convinced that her meeting with Dominic was destiny.

Coincidence. She called it coincidence. As if a few random encounters had blossomed into something meaningful.

But wasn’t it all a little too convenient?

Elaine believed it was fate, a string of beautiful accidents. But could coincidences so perfectly calculated still be called accidents?

That man—him—the one who held a grudge against both Fernando and Vanessa… he had found a way. A way to reach Elaine, to get close to her, to use her. To ruin her in order to get revenge on them.

At the very thought, Fernando’s skin erupted with goosebumps. Rage and dread twisted in his gut.

Finally, the long-anticipated day of Vanessa’s birthday had arrived.

It was still hours before the party would begin, yet the estate was already bustling with early arrivals.

Upstairs in her second-floor room, Elaine sat by the window, fully dressed and ready. For nearly an hour, she had done nothing but gaze out the window, clearly waiting for someone.

“Elaine.”

A soft male voice broke her focus. She frowned slightly, irritated by the uninvited guest who had entered without permission—and at the young maid closing the door quietly behind him, eyeing her carefully.

No doubt it was Anna—the cheeky girl who dared to meddle, always rooting for the romance between the noble Lady Aiola and her childhood friend, the Crown Prince.

Elaine opened her mouth to scold them when—

“Don’t blame Anna,” Turner said with a small smile, as if he’d read her thoughts. “I insisted.”

“Then you’re truly no gentleman, Turner. A man barging into a lady’s room uninvited?”

Elaine’s voice was sharp with frost, and Turner gave a short, incredulous laugh.

“Hah? Since when did we start caring about things like that?”

It was true—they’d never stood on ceremony. But Elaine raised her chin proudly and spoke with deliberate clarity.

“Well, from now on, we will. We’re both adults now. And I happen to be seeing a man who makes you look utterly unimpressive.”

“A man?”

Turner’s face twisted instantly. His voice came out hard, uncharacteristically bitter.

“A man? You? Last time we spoke, you weren’t even—wait. Don’t tell me. It’s him…”

“That’s right. Sir Dominic Cheshire.”

Elaine beamed as she said the name, her cheeks tinted pink like a girl in love. The expression on Turner’s face soured completely.

The bouquet of yellow flowers in his hand slipped to the floor with a soft thud.

Oh no… what a waste…

Watching from the side, Anna sighed with regret. The bouquet shimmered with gold dust on every petal. The satin ribbon and the large red jewel in the center were worth more than a commoner’s monthly wage.

Still, the cold-hearted young lady and the proud crown prince didn’t seem to care one bit. Typical of the privileged—how little things meant so little to them.

“When did this happen?”

Turner’s normally playful voice was now flat and strained. Elaine was surprised to hear such a tone from him, but she welcomed it. Now was her chance to make things clear between them.

“Why are you angry, Turner? Don’t tell me you’re as foolish as my brother Fernando—thinking you have some right to control who I fall in love with.”

“And why shouldn’t I?” Turner shot back. “Elaine, I—I…”

He stumbled over his words, unable to finish. Elaine scoffed in disbelief.

“If you’re talking about that pathetic confession of yours—I’m pretty sure I’ve rejected it more than a dozen times.”

“Pathetic… confession?”

For a moment, something strange happened—Turner’s face lost all trace of expression.

“…Ha.”

A breathless laugh slipped through his lips.

“Elaine. So that’s how lightly you’ve always treated my feelings?”

“And why shouldn’t I?”

Elaine lifted her chin, meeting his gaze with unflinching cruelty. Her voice was clear, cutting.

“Don’t delude yourself, Turner. You’re not anything to me.”

“I…”

He started to speak but closed his mouth again, jaw tight.

“……”
“……”

A heavy silence stretched between them. Neither one moved, their gazes locked. Only poor Anna, caught in the crossfire of her superiors’ emotions, fidgeted anxiously in the background, trying her best to disappear.

Eventually, Turner bent down and picked up the yellow bouquet he had dropped. Dusting it off with a few quick pats, he held it out to her with a face as composed as ever—like nothing had happened.

“Alright. I’m sorry, Elaine. I won’t act like I matter to you anymore. But at least take these. I brought them for you.”

“……”

Elaine narrowed her eyes at the bouquet, then at Turner. She wondered how someone from Queen Clemencia and Vanessa’s bloodline could be so soft. As if he’d inherited none of that ruthless pride.

“Do you have no pride? And you’re the Crown Prince, no less.”

His gentle demeanor annoyed her. It made her feel like the cruel one.

“I just rejected you again, Turner. I stomped on your sincerity without leaving a shred of hope.”

“It’s fine. I’ve always known I can’t force my feelings on you.”

“……”

The moment he became too gracious, her will to fight vanished. With a soft sigh, Elaine took the bouquet and passed it to Anna.

“…Put it in a vase and decorate the dining room downstairs.”

“Yes, my lady!”

Grabbing the flowers, Anna rushed out like a rabbit fleeing danger. She, of course, knew neither of her “great” masters gave a single thought to the poor maid caught in their squabble.

Once Anna left, a strange stillness settled in the room again. Turner rubbed his face, letting the tension show at last. Elaine watched him quietly.

Eventually, he dropped his hands and gave her a crooked smile, his eyes downturned like a puppy in the rain.

“Don’t look at me like that, Elaine.”

“Like what? You’re not pitiful. You’re the future king of Hermanda.”

Elaine snorted.

“You don’t actually see yourself as pitiful, do you? If you do, the people barely surviving in the slums of the capital would riot.”

She thought of that day—her first real act of rebellion with Dominic. She recalled the faces of those who lived in the depths of that broken world. The little gypsy boy who had handed her a flower. Even the servants living at the lowest levels of the Aiola estate looked better off than him.

And yet, the boy’s bright smile had lit up the darkness, a light far warmer than the chandeliers in the grandest noble halls.

That memory still glowed in her mind—not because of pity, but because of Dominic. The man who had smiled so gently and stirred something deep inside her.

He had called that world his own. There were many times she wanted to ask about his past, but she never did. She loved him—but she wouldn’t trespass into his world unless he invited her in.

“You’re cold, Elaine.”

Turner’s voice broke her thoughts.

“I’m glad you finally realized it,” she replied smoothly. “Now do yourself a favor and go find someone else. Someone who won’t be as cold as Elaine Aiola.”

“…I see now. The real pity here isn’t me—it’s him. Dominic Cheshire. Poor guy. What did he do to deserve your love?”

His laugh was bitter. He didn’t leave. Instead, he pulled out a chair and sat down like he had no intention of going anywhere. Chin resting on one hand, he started picking a fight.

“Tell me more about this tragic Dominic Cheshire—the poor bastard who has to deal with a nasty woman like you.”

“You were just apologizing five minutes ago, and now I’m a nasty woman? So much for sincerity.”

“Apology’s still valid. Doesn’t mean you’re some angel, though.”

Turner shrugged, playing it cool. But Elaine could tell—he was fuming inside.

She clicked her tongue in annoyance.

If she were in his position, she wouldn’t have let it slide. Not after having her sincerity crushed like that. She’d have burned the whole room down before letting her pride take that hit.

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