When You Started to Regret - Chapter 39

“My Dominic,” Elaine began, lips tightening into a serious line as though revealing a grave and important secret.

“He’s filled to the brim… with love for me.”

Then came a burst of laughter, unbefitting a proper young lady.
Realizing she’d fallen for her lady’s little prank, Anna scowled and began slathering oil a bit more heavily than necessary onto Elaine’s skin.

“That’s just your wishful thinking, my lady.”

“And it’s the same for me,” Elaine said brightly. “My heart is filled with nothing but love for him too. Ah, Dominic… my love…!”

As Elaine once again drifted into one of her theatrical fantasies, Anna let out a long, weary sigh.

“Truly, I think there’s something wrong with your eyes, my lady. Just think about His Highness Prince Turner. That elegant auburn hair, those graceful movements, his gentle voice—so kind…”

“Wait. Kind?” Elaine narrowed her eyes.

“Don’t you remember, Anna? When Turner was little and he put a frog in your basket?”

“I don’t remember. I’m far too busy to keep track of such nonsense.”

“What on earth could you be busy with?”

“In any case, my lady,” Anna pressed on, ignoring the jab, “all I’m saying is that His Highness would be a much better match than that man—”

Just as Anna was gearing up to repeat her Turner-praising sermon, the door opened, and someone cut her off.

“I happen to agree with that.”

Fernando stepped into the room, his face tired and drawn.

“Oh, Master!”

Startled, Anna quickly grabbed a shawl and draped it over Elaine’s bare shoulders.
Sure, they were siblings, but Elaine was now a proper adult lady.

“Dominic Cheshire. That man came to the estate again, didn’t he?”

He stood in front of Elaine, his tone stiff and controlled.

“You’re late to the news. And here I thought you were the head of House Aiola,” she replied coolly, still focused on her reflection in the mirror.

Since Vanessa’s birthday, Elaine’s tone toward her brother had turned icy.

“Elaine, I don’t think he’s a good man.”

“And who are you to decide that?”

Her emerald eyes flared—an anger she’d kept bottled up for days finally showing itself.

“You promised to respect my choices. Are you going back on that now?”

“Elaine, at least look at me when we talk—”

“I don’t want to see your face right now.”

“…”

At her firm, unyielding response, Fernando fell silent. Anna, caught in the middle, anxiously looked between them.
Normally, Lady Vanessa would mediate these tense moments—but she wasn’t here. The atmosphere turned heavier still.

“What are you doing, Anna? Why haven’t you finished drying my hair?”

“Y-yes, my lady.”

Anna scrambled to remove the towel from Elaine’s head and gently combed through the dripping platinum strands.
Her careful brushing was practically a silent order for Fernando to leave.

After standing there wordlessly for a long moment, Fernando finally sighed and turned to go.

Just then, Elaine spoke—still staring into the mirror, her tone quiet but cutting.

“Dominic is already everything to me.”

The pain in her voice held anger, disappointment, sorrow… but also an unwavering clarity.

“Don’t try to take him from me.”

✦✦✦

Water streamed from his crown down his chiseled frame.
Finishing his cold shower, Dominic stepped out of the bathroom, a robe loosely tied around his body.

“Master, here are the records you requested.”

Walker handed Dominic the report he’d acquired from an information broker. Dominic took it wordlessly and walked over to the sofa. As his eyes scanned the contents, his face remained devoid of expression—his default state when Elaine wasn’t near.

“…In the year 218 of the Hermandan calendar, Crown Prince Edmund was assassinated by a slave born in the Kingdom of Emilta… Aiola family head Fernando apprehended the suspect, but no conclusive evidence has yet been submitted…”

Dominic’s eyes stopped at one sentence.

“Evidence…”

He tilted his head slightly, thoughtful. If there was one thing he regretted about killing Edmund, it was letting him die too easily. The conclusive evidence—he was sure—had ended up in Fernando Aiola’s hands.

“So why didn’t he hand it over?”

His face, previously calm, twisted faintly. He could still picture Fernando’s smug face as he blocked the path of Dominic and Liliana during their escape five years ago. And beside him, her voice—unshakably calm, in full control.

“One of you has to die for killing my brother. So it’ll be you who lives.”

Vanessa.

Back then, when Edmund’s cruelty had become unbearable, she was his only light.
That beautiful, untouchable kindness—far too noble for a filthy slave like him—had completely deceived him.

Even when he’d committed an unforgivable act, she hadn’t punished him.
Instead, she’d simply said: “Good boy, my sweet pup.”

With those softly spoken words, Dominic began to believe she was the one who had written him that note:
[Don’t die.]

From the age of eleven, he followed her everywhere.
She used to laugh, calling him a little pet that trailed after her.

At fourteen, he confessed that he liked her—she laughed in his face.
At fifteen, they shared their first kiss.

By then, he’d grown tall, nearly as large as a grown man. But Vanessa would still giggle and poke fun at his awkwardness.

At seventeen, he finally told her he loved her. And eventually, they became lovers.
She was three years older—already experienced.
Back then, he thought maybe all princesses were just naturally good at everything.

He didn’t know there was another man.

He thought they were lovers—real lovers—until everything shattered in front of one of Hermanda’s noblemen.

“Wait… Did you seriously think you and I were an actual couple?”

Vanessa had asked, stunned, as if the very idea was absurd.

“Don’t worry, Dominic. Nothing has to change. I love Fernando, but I care for you too.”

Even after getting engaged to Fernando, she still called Dominic to her bed.
Still praised him. Still played with the heart of a boy who loved her too much to see the truth.

“Good boy. Come here. It’s okay, Fernando’s not coming today.”

Dominic had watched her engagement ceremony in silent misery—and still didn’t leave her.
Instead, he turned all that pain and hatred toward Fernando Aiola.

Aiola.
Aiola.
What was so special about that man?

He had loved Vanessa with everything he had.
It was foolish, desperate, and one-sided—but he believed it would last forever.

Until he overheard that conversation between her and her maid.

“As if I’d actually fall in love with some dirty little slave boy.”

Her voice had carried a tinge of pity. That day, Dominic dug out the old note and the little medicine box—the same ones he’d kept hidden away for so long.
What he once believed was love turned out to be pity. Nothing more.

“What’s wrong, Dominic? Are you mad at me? Don’t pout—make me happy. Huh? Why so rough all of a sudden? Wait, stop—! Ah… you’re the best, Dominic. Even all my mother’s lovers couldn’t compare to you.”

That’s when he finally understood.
Vanessa wasn’t some gentle, kind soul.
She was selfish. Manipulative. She saw him not as a man, but as a toy—something exotic and amusing.

Bella had been wrong. Vanessa wasn’t good.
And yet, Dominic still couldn’t leave.

His resentment for her was never as strong as his need to stay near her.
Even knowing she didn’t love him, he came every time she called—like an obedient dog.

To her, he was nothing more than a pretty pet.

But that was fine, he told himself.
Because he loved her.
Even if it wasn’t real love. Even if it was a lie.
That note—Don’t die—that tiny scrap of kindness had kept him alive for half of his miserable life.

He only left the kingdom when—

“Liliana…”

“D-Dominic… h-hic… I don’t… I don’t know what to do…”

His younger sister ran to him, trembling and broken.

She was a wreck from head to toe—and in that moment, he saw their mother.
How she had looked after Edmund’s soldiers tore her apart, years ago.

“The princess… Edmund… I told them no. I begged… I begged them not to… I didn’t want it… It hurts, Dominic… It hurts so much…”

BANG. BANG. BANG.

Three gunshots.

That was the end of the memory and the beginning of something far, far worse.

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