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

Tristan was a pathetic supporting villain.

At least, that was his role in the original story.

A character who flaunted his natural advantages—his looks and status—without understanding that his advances could be perceived as harassment by others.

But if I were to step outside the perspective of the story’s protagonists…

Perhaps I could see a more nuanced person.

The obstacle blocking the window when viewed from inside a room might actually be a tree with its own history and roots.

Regardless, I…

"I want to know what could hurt someone like you, someone whose face seems three centimeters thick."

The carriage, which had been steadily moving forward with a clatter, soon stopped in front of the Redfield estate.

I’d planned to get out without waking Tristan, but, as if he had a sixth sense, he opened his eyes right as we arrived and prepared to disembark.

“Your Highness? Are you planning to visit the estate?”

“Why would I? Do you want me to?”

He just had to add an irritating comment.

Then he stepped out of the carriage, extending a hand to me. Oh, he was offering to help me down.

What a rollercoaster of a man.

Following his lead, I elegantly took his hand and lightly supported myself as I stepped out of the carriage.

“Thank you for today, Your Highness.”

“Of course. Anyone could tell by the number of empty plates you left behind.”

I’d expected him to spew nonsense, and he didn’t disappoint. This man was a rollercoaster that could dig all the way to the mantle.

Unfazed, I continued.

“It wasn’t just the food. It’s been a while since I reflected on what I actually enjoy.”

“You mean colors?”

“Yes.”

The first two months had been spent adjusting to the life of a lady, and the time after that was consumed by trying to follow the original plot. During all that, my only source of joy had been the primal delight of desserts.

But now…

I finally understood.

“The color I like best is the shade of the sky reflected on the lake you brought me to today.”

“…”

“I truly had a wonderful time.”

Even as I spoke kindly, I didn’t expect much in return.

Considering Tristan’s personality, he’d probably come back with something dismissive, like, ‘What do you know about lakes when you’re always holed up in your room?’

But after a brief silence, what I got wasn’t a snide comment.

Instead, I felt a firm, almost desperate grip on my hand.

A grip that felt as earnest as roots reaching for water.

Only then did I realize we were still holding hands.

“Uh… Your Highness, I should head inside now!”

Flustered, I tried to pull my hand away.

Tristan moved his hand too—but not to let go.

Instead, he raised my silk-gloved hand and pressed his lips lightly against it.

The moment of contact was brief, yet his breath and voice lingered over the back of my hand.

“…We’ll meet again, won’t we?”

“Of course! Absolutely!”

“Good.”

Tristan, still holding my hand, looked down at me for a long moment before his silver-blue eyes curved into a triumphant smile I knew all too well.

“You must be exhausted from an outing so ill-suited to you. Go inside and rest.”

Ah, there was the Tristan I knew.

At last, my hand was free. He turned his head sharply, climbed into the carriage, and didn’t look back even once.

I was sure he was grinning smugly as he left.

“…Ha.”

Warmth spread across my face.

Why am I reacting like this over a simple kiss on the hand?!

‘No wonder Tristan found this entertaining!’

It was the kind of response you’d expect from Doris, the original one-track-minded fool of the story, but it still made me bristle with irritation.

And yet, strangely enough, I didn’t feel bad about it.

***

A monster appeared in the Blue Atrium.

This news would have been reported to the royal family first.

The royals likely sent envoys and troops to the Blue Atrium, and from that moment on, the news of the "monster outbreak" could no longer be kept secret.

Rumors began to spread among the nobility.

"It looks like Prince Tristan won’t be inheriting the Blue Atrium after all. They’ll probably hand it over to the duchy."

"The power of Duke Frost Hill and the young duke will only grow stronger."

Naturally, this led to the Redfield couple—those incorrigible opportunists—harassing me yet again.

The countess’s eyes gleamed.@@novelbin@@

“Doris, at this moment, you’re the person closest to the young duke, aren’t you? This could be your chance to become the lady of Frost Hill and the Blue Atrium!”

“Closest? I’ve only met him twice—once at a ball and once when I visited him while he was ill.”

“There are plenty of ladies who haven’t even danced with him once! And didn’t you receive a get-well gift? I bet you gushed over how grateful you were for it!”

…I rated it three stars.

Damn it. All I did when I was alone with Arthur was give him relationship advice. Do they even know how his eyes sparkle when he talks about Maria?

But I couldn’t exactly spill the details of someone else’s love life.

“Mother, I—”

She cut me off, already anticipating my excuse.

“Don’t tell me you’re going to say, ‘But my fiancé is Prince Tristan,’ again! Spare me!”

“…”

“Why are you the only one sticking to your principles? Do you think one outing will make up for the past five years, during which he danced and laughed with countless ladies—excluding you?”

Mother bit her nail in frustration.

“There’s no time to waste worrying about this. We have to act before all the other ladies swarm the young duke. Keep your schedule clear for this Saturday!”

“What? What time on Saturday?”

“Obviously, the whole day! You’ll prepare for the party during the day and dance all night!”

What’s “obvious” about that?

I already had plans to go to the Sacred Salon that day!

The hunting competition is just around the corner. The salon is bound to place bets on it this Saturday.

In the original story, this year’s hunting competition turned into a total fiasco. No one but me would guess the correct outcome.

I could easily earn three coins.

Of course, if I couldn’t make it to the salon, the whole thing would be pointless!

“Mother, can’t we choose another day? This Saturday is too urgent.”

“The hunting competition is coming up. Shouldn’t you at least get close enough to the young duke to receive a deer from him?”

“…”

“Make sure he promises you some sort of game. Any lady who doesn’t receive a gift from the hunting competition has no hope. You’ve heard this too, Natalie, haven’t you?”

The arrow now flew toward my sister, who was lounging on the sofa. She shrugged her shoulders.

“Last year, I received two deer and three foxes, but they didn’t bring me any hope either.”

“That’s because you asked for a wolf! In any case, I’ll invite all the good men within reach—including the young duke—for Saturday. You both better show your gratitude for your mother’s efforts!”

“….”

Natalie tilted her head slightly, smirking. Mother, too preoccupied with me, didn’t notice her expression.

“Natalie will manage just fine, but Doris, what are we going to do with you? You’ve been dressing demurely, as befits the fiancée of royalty, but if you want to aim for other men, you’ll need something flashier.”

“It wasn’t about being demure for royalty. I just couldn’t be bothered to dress up.”

“Oh, how proud you must be of that! Anyway, let’s look at your wardrobe. If there’s nothing suitable, we can alter one of Natalie’s dresses in a pinch—”

“No.”

Natalie’s cold voice cut in.

“Why should I give her my clothes? And if you alter them, I won’t get them back. It’s not my fault my sister is so tiny.”

“Natalie! Can’t you even spare a little generosity for your sister’s happiness?”

“I don’t know about that. If you ask Doris whether she’d prefer ‘eating caramel alone in her room’ or ‘being surrounded by ten handsome gentlemen and securing a month’s worth of dates,’ she’d pick the former without hesitation.”

Correct.

The latter sounds like something out of a ridiculous YouTuber’s social experiment. Just imagining it is terrifying.

‘Thanks for the lie, sis!’

Mother couldn’t win a verbal spar with Natalie. Running out of things to say, she shook her head.

The problem was, the countess was much more persistent when it came to me.

“Doris, let’s at least take a look at your wardrobe.”

That would reveal the dresses Natalie gave me for the Sacred Salon!

No way. Those were strictly for salon use!

Just as Mother’s hand clutched my shoulder and Natalie moved to stand in my defense, a maid approached carrying a large box.

“Madam, this arrived from Designer Aston’s atelier. It’s for Miss Doris. Did you order it?”

“Designer Aston? That can’t be right. The last time we used them was for debutante dresses.”

The maid placed the box on the table. The purple velvet box, bearing the atelier’s name, had a tag with my name on it.

Mother gasped as she saw the label.

“Oh my, it really is from Designer Aston. They don’t accept just any client. Who commissioned this?”

As Natalie and I leaned in out of curiosity, Mother opened the box.

The moment I saw the beautiful dress inside, I knew exactly who had sent it.

“Prince Tristan…?”

Dyed in a graceful blue hue, it looked as if it had been crafted from a piece of the sky and water I’d admired at the lake.

Soon, Mother discovered the card tucked beneath the dress.

“It really is. ‘From Tristan Winter Albion to his fiancée, Doris Redfield.’ Doris, did the prince say he’d send you a gift?”

“No.”

“Then how did you know it was from him?”

“…Just a feeling.”

There was nothing else I could say. It defied logic. Even I couldn’t understand why Tristan had sent this.

And yet, my heart raced with excitement.

Carefully, as if touching the first snowfall, I ran my hands over the dress. It was so soft, yet it didn’t vanish like a dream.

It was real. A gift, just for me.

Natalie let out a whistle.

“What’s gotten into the prince? Has his runaway common sense finally returned?”

Could it be? Did he come to his senses faster than he did in the original story? Is this okay?

“Mother…”

I turned to gauge the countess’s reaction. Surprisingly, her expression wasn’t as bright as I expected.

“Doris, do you think it’ll fit you?”

“Wait, let me check. Wow, it looks like it will!”

“They must have kept your debutante measurements on file at the atelier. How convenient.”

“Mother?”

“Anyway, your dress is sorted. Wear it this Saturday. We’ll go shopping for accessories in the afternoon.”

“Mother.”

“What now?”

The irritation in her voice prompted an uneasy question to rise in my mind.

“At the weekend’s party… will Prince Tristan be there?”