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

Looking back, Tristan’s behavior since I ended up in this body had been consistently strange.

Sure, he was always rude. That part was consistent.

But there were these odd moments where he treated me surprisingly gently.

He bought me delicious food, took me to the kitchen when I was hungry, gifted me clothes, brought me to beautiful places like this…

It sounds absurd, but this is practically a cliché in reincarnation novels.

The kind where side characters or villains, who were supposed to love the original heroine, suddenly develop feelings for the reincarnated protagonist.

But there was no reason for this to happen.

I’ve lived as close to the original Doris as possible—quiet, unassuming, and entirely forgettable!

If this were true, though, wouldn’t it be a good thing? I should feel happy. Yes, it’s absurd, but… still good? Though a bit unsettling!

But I couldn’t accept it immediately.

How could I confirm it?

Asking outright was a bit… much.

‘Maybe I can use this atmosphere?’

The moonlight is lovely, the sound of the water is soothing—it’s the kind of setting where even sworn enemies could coexist for thirty seconds.

I shifted slightly closer to Tristan, just enough for the hems of our clothes to brush if I got lucky.

Our fingers briefly touched as I moved closer, and he didn’t pull away. Eventually, I was the one who retreated, embarrassed.

Is this a green light?

“Um… Your Highness.”

No answer.

“I’d like to ask you something.”

I turned my head toward where I thought his face would be.

And immediately regretted it.

Tristan had already turned his head toward me.

Neither of us had time to react, and in that instant, something brushed against the bridge of my nose.

Tristan’s lips.

It was a mistake.

Clearly, it was an accident born from our mutual lack of spatial awareness.

It could have been shrugged off as a mere mishap.

But I didn’t pull away…

And Tristan’s lips, trembling slightly, slid from my nose to my cheek…

And then, to my lips…

…Or did they?

I felt something on my lips, but I couldn’t tell if it was his skin or just his breath.

Before I could process it, Tristan pulled back abruptly, swallowing his breath in a visible panic.

“…”

Half-standing, Tristan stared down at the ground.

What’s with this reaction? It’s not like I stole your virtue or something. Besides, even if we did accidentally kiss, this can’t have been your first time!

Then Tristan slowly raised his head and completely derailed my thoughts.

“…What was it you wanted to ask earlier?”

“…”

Oh, so we’re pretending nothing happened?

If this had been five seconds ago, I might have let it slide.

But after considering where your lips went after my nose, there’s only one thing I can ask now.

“Your Highness. What just happened?”

“…It was a mistake born of coincidence.”

“The first contact was an accident, yes. But, Your Highness, you know as well as I do that the second one wasn’t.”

“…”

Tristan stared down at his hands as if trying to find an escape.

Don’t even think about running away.

I decided to ask directly.

“Your Highness. Do you have feelings for me?”

“That’s ridiculous.”

The worst possible answer came out instantly, without even a second’s hesitation. He even followed it up with an echo.

“That’s ridiculous… absolutely not.”

“…”

“It was just a reflex. There’s no impure desire or emotion involved.”

“…I see. Understood.”

This was so absurd that I felt my common sense pack its bags and leave for a long vacation.

‘So that’s how little he thinks of me. Enough to play around with fake romance and brush off my questions with flimsy excuses.’

People like this exist.

They enjoy the thrill of flirtation but run away when it comes to actual relationships.

My heart, which had been pounding earlier, now felt cold and heavy.

Fine. What did I expect from you, anyway?

You’re the kind of person who always does whatever you want without taking responsibility.

I stood up abruptly, the stones beneath my dress scattering with a harsh sound.

“As you wish, we’ll consider this incident forgotten. But, Your Highness, your excuses only make this situation more bizarre!”

“…”

“Thank you for showing me the beautiful scenery tonight.”

I forced a smile. That kiss—or near-kiss—never happened, right? That leaves us with just a brief walk together.

Tristan didn’t try to explain himself further. He only turned his face away, his expression rigid.

“Well, I’ll take my leave now. If I stay out too late, my family might start worrying.”

“Wait. I’ll walk you back. Even if there’s only one path, it’s still dangerous to go alone—”

“It’s fine. What worries me more is the chance of another ‘accident’ if we walk together!”

“…”

Normally, I wouldn’t have said something so biting to Tristan.

But I was angry, and Tristan didn’t offer a rebuttal.

I turned around and hurried away.

The camp’s lights glimmered faintly over the low hill ahead, so I wasn’t afraid of losing my way.

‘Night walks are great! Just fantastic!’

Come to think of it, everything worked out.

Tristan doesn’t have feelings for me.

He was just playing at romance.

When our lips almost met, he didn’t apologize properly or even come up with a convincing lie—he made the worst possible choices.

That’s the Tristan I know from the original story!

‘Keep talking nonsense. You’re going to marry me anyway.’

Ha, ha, ha.

This is good. It’s good that Tristan is returning to his original self, even if everything else feels off.

…Maybe I’m just exhausted.

The path back to camp felt oddly longer than before.

***

Tristan rubbed his forehead. His mind had been a mess since Doris said, “What’s beautiful now is enough. It doesn’t need to be beautiful twenty-four hours a day to matter.”

If that was her genuine opinion, then her earlier praise—“You shone the brightest today”—must also have been sincere. Maybe Doris saw Tristan himself in a positive light.@@novelbin@@

But whatever emotion Doris might have had just now was probably shattered.

‘This is driving me crazy…’

When Doris had called out nervously, “Um… Your Highness,” Tristan had turned his head toward her. Her unusually close face filled his vision entirely.

Whether it was the powder on her cheeks or the faint blush, it all stood out. Her hair, carefully styled by her maids, had a few loose strands swaying in the night breeze against her neck.

She didn’t seem to care, but Tristan’s heart prickled uncomfortably.

As his thoughts swirled like a storm, Doris spoke again.

“I wanted to ask you something.”

She turned her head as she said it.

And their lips met.

At first, there had been some distance between them—about a hand’s width. How had they gotten so close?

Tristan knew himself well enough to chalk it up to his own bad habits.

But what came next wasn’t an accident.

Why did he let his lips brush her cheek?

Doris’s cheeks, soft and lively when she ate snacks with delight. Pale, calm cheeks that sometimes uttered cold truths.

‘All for that?’

If it had been mere desire, he wouldn’t have cared about something so trivial.

‘Why did I do that? No wonder she asked if I had feelings for her!’

Feelings? No, of course not.

This was the same woman he had been desperate to escape from for years. His opinion couldn’t have changed so suddenly.

Whenever he thought of their engagement, he could still hear his father’s dismissive words: “Use the Third Prince as a pawn for this political marriage.” The engagement had always been a mark of shame for Tristan.

‘So… surely, I don’t… Doris, I couldn’t possibly…’

The sentence remained incomplete.

A few months ago, Tristan could have immediately thought, “She’s insufferable,” or “She’s boring.”

But now, the emotion hidden beneath the “arranged marriage of convenience” label was…

‘…No.’

Tristan shook his head, trying to forget the faint word that had floated to the surface of his mind.

‘I must be exhausted. That’s all.’

He decided he’d apologize to Doris tomorrow.

Though he had no idea what words he’d use.

Having reached this conclusion, Tristan stood up.

Fifty meters ahead, Doris was walking toward the camp.

The lights at her destination were bright, but the unlit path she was on seemed unnervingly dark.

‘There could be a wild animal wandering around.’

Without thinking further, Tristan removed his shoes and began to follow her.

Sharp stones jabbed into his bare feet, but he didn’t care. It was better than alerting her to his presence with the sound of his boots.

‘She’s exhausted, too.’

The walk to the lake had been long, and Doris’s pace was slowing.

‘Foolish woman.’

Stubborn and upright to a fault.

Why would she insist on marrying a man she didn’t even like?

She could’ve convinced her parents to break off the engagement, especially with the Blue Atrium dispute leaving no advantage in marrying Tristan.

‘I dislike women like you. That’s why I kept looking for another way.’

It had been ages since he’d last sent Maria flowers. Reaching out to her again now would only lead to rejection.

Maybe it was time to find someone else.

Tristan recalled the faces of the ladies he’d met at recent banquets, but most of them blurred into vague pastel smudges. The only one who remained clear was Doris Redfield.

‘Why…’

Why had he wanted to show her his favorite childhood hideaway?

Why, even now…

A faint crunch interrupted his thoughts, making Tristan freeze.

Thankfully, it hadn’t come from under his own feet.

But the situation ahead was far from fortunate.

There, in the source of the sound, someone was blocking Doris’s path.

Tristan recognized him.

Doris flinched in surprise.

“Rick? What are you doing here?”

“That’s my question, Lady Doris. What are you doing wandering outside the camp at this hour?”

“Oh, well, the weather was so nice! I just went for a walk!”

“That’s a rather dangerous hobby. If you’re finished, may I escort you back to your tent?”