I’m Not Sorry But The Prince Will Marry Me Anyway

"Yes, I’ll be back soon. Take care of things while I’m gone."

Doris’s voice.

Tristan instinctively moved to conceal himself, vaulting onto the estate’s outer wall.

Immediately, the sharp barking of a dog rang out.

"Woof! Woof!"

"Oh, you clueless mutt! Here, have this!"

Thankfully, a not-so-perceptive maid quickly pulled a strip of jerky from her pocket and ran toward the inner garden. The dog instantly stopped barking and sprinted after her.

That was close… huh?

That was when Tristan noticed something odd.

The maid who had run back into the estate showed no signs of returning. Meanwhile, Doris—who had just stepped outside—closed the back gate behind her and began walking down the alley alone.

She’s going out alone? At this hour?

Commoners could roam freely for several more hours, but a noble lady walking unescorted after sunset was unheard of.

If anyone saw her, pointless rumors would spread like wildfire.

And Doris knew that.

Where is she going?

The first possibility that came to mind was a gathering with friends.

Right after Arthur Albion had cruelly stepped on Doris’s foot, Tristan had once caught sight of her returning home drunk late at night.

…But was that really a meeting with friends?

Now that he knew Doris Redfield much better than before…

Tristan could say with certainty.

Doris was not the kind of person to attend a late-night social gathering.