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

Could it be that he ignored me?

Even as the servant alternated glances between me and Tristan, he simply kept walking forward, his gaze slightly lowered in the typical pose of someone pretending to be lost in thought. 𝒇𝙧𝙚𝓮𝔀𝓮𝒃𝙣𝓸𝒗𝒆𝒍.𝙘𝒐𝒎

Usually, such a "could it be" doesn’t have a high chance of being true.

I fumed internally and quickened my pace.

But speaking up again to someone who might have deliberately ignored me required quite a bit of courage...

"Tristan, Your Highness...?"

Damn. Even to my own ears, my voice sounded on the verge of tears, practically crawling out of my throat.

Yet, it was this very voice that finally got a reaction from him. Tristan stopped abruptly, as if caught in a trap, then slowly turned to face me.

"Dory. What brings you here?"

"Your Highness... I, um, had a tea-time appointment with Her Highness, the Crown Princess, so I came by."

"I see. Do you need something from me?"

"Huh?"

Since when do you need a reason to stop your fiancée, Tristan? Even coworkers don’t act like this!

Hell, you used to drag me to the tea room every time we bumped into each other in the palace!

Just as this unfairness swirled in my throat, Tristan quickly added, "I’d love to have tea with you too, but I’m a bit tied up right now. I just received word that the trial for Count Braum has concluded."

"Ah? What was the verdict?"

"Execution, of course. But we can’t stain the joyous Harvest Festival with blood, so the sentence will be carried out quietly right after the celebrations end."

"I see..."

But it wouldn’t end with just the execution. Tristan would only get busier afterward.

After all, he’s the one who has to personally oversee the transition after killing the very person who was supposed to hand things over to him.

Time to get to work.

I suppressed the urge to keep talking to him.

Even if I wanted to help, I had no expertise in administration. Maybe I should pick up a book on the subject later.

"Understood. Your Highness, I’ll see you next time."

I made a cool exit.

Of course, internally, I was anything but cool—more like lukewarm disappointment. I hadn’t expected our conversation to last barely a minute. I’d wanted to check if the awkwardness I felt at the last banquet was still there...

And above all, I’d wanted to hear his voice calling me, as if I were someone special...

"Dory."

"Yes?"

Just before I could get too far, Tristan’s voice stopped me.

"Did you hear we’ll be appearing together at the festival? At the square, I mean."

"Ah, Her Highness the Crown Princess mentioned it. She said it’s just a simple dance with you in the square."

"For me, yes. But for you, dancing isn’t exactly ’simple,’ is it?"

"Your Highness..."

"Don’t worry. If you just lend me your hand, I promise everything will be over in an instant."

"..."

Some of my frustration eased.

And then, his next words stirred my heart again.

"Honestly, only a handful of people will even see us. But I’ll shield you as much as possible, so... don’t worry too much about their eyes."

It was as if he knew that what truly weighed on me wasn’t the dancing itself, but the stares of the crowd.

"Thank... you. I’ll, um, look forward to the festival."

"No need to go that far. Well, until then."

Tristan walked away with his servant. Even before they were fully out of earshot, I could hear him discussing the trial in earnest.

Despite having barely spent a few minutes with him, and despite my feet throbbing belatedly from standing too long, I didn’t feel entirely bad.

...I’ll just have to work harder.

To become someone who doesn’t fall short in his eyes. There’ll be plenty more chances to see him later.

A World Without Christmas.

In this world, the Harvest Festival in October is the grandest and most dazzling celebration in the capital.

While the nobility generally sees it as "a noisy commoner’s event," it’s an open secret that young nobles often sneak into the festivities in plain clothes or masks to indulge in a bit of rebellion.

In the original story, Arthur proposes to Maria while eating grilled chicken legs at the festival.

Fortunately, the current Arthur seems to have proposed much earlier than in the original, so this time, they’ll probably just enjoy a normal date.

Though I’m not sure if Arthur managed a proposal better than "chicken-leg proposal" this time... Well, as long as they’re happy.

Meanwhile, my parents have become even more obsessive about my wedding preparations.

My mother nagged endlessly as I tried on the dress tailored for the Harvest Festival.

"We absolutely cannot afford to fall out with the royal family! The first broken engagement was His Highness Percival’s fault, but if a second engagement falls through, the blame will shift to our family for sure!"

"Don’t worry. You know I always do my best for the royal family."

I did my best to screw Percival over too.

"I know, I know! But even if there are misunderstandings, you must let them slide. If you act prickly, the reporters who made a fortune off the Percival scandal will swarm you."

"That would be troublesome."

"Of course! Ugh, just the other day, some reporter even cornered Natalie, asking if she knew more about the ’Percival scandal’!"

"What? Is she okay?"

"Natalie’s fine. The reporter, not so much... Want to hear the details?"

"No thanks. I’ll be careful."

I mean, even when Tristan was all over Maria right in front of me, I treated him normally.

But will he be okay?

I recalled how, during our last encounter in the palace, Tristan had ignored my first greeting. Could he really not have heard me when even the servant beside him had?

Just then, my mother clicked her tongue.

"Dory. What’s worrying you now?"

"Nothing!"

"Do you think I’ve lived all these years for nothing? I can tell just by looking at you. You’re anxious about His Highness causing trouble again, aren’t you?"

"..."

"Honestly, one grand proposal doesn’t make up for his behavior up until this spring. And it’s not like we can peek into his heart to see if his feelings have truly changed. So instead of agonizing over the unknown, just do your best."

"Mother..."

"My best is this: Tomorrow evening, Dorys Redfield will dance before everyone as the most... no, the second most beautiful lady in the capital."

As I stood before the mirror in the dress my parents had commissioned, adorned with accessories from my mother’s jewelry box, I caught my reflection.

"I look... pretty."

"Of course. The blue dress His Highness sent is lovely, but I’ve always thought pale green suits you best. Natalie has good taste, but she keeps picking overpowering colors—such a problem!"

"True. Sister outshines even the most dazzling jewels."

"Honestly, how did I end up with a daughter like her...? Her personality’s the same. I sigh just thinking about how she’ll navigate life. Straighten your back, Dory. You’re not going to dance like a flea in front of everyone, are you?"

I’ll probably keep disliking many things about my mother.

But sometimes, I still feel love for her.

And so, little by little, she was transforming from "Villainess Parent Trope A" into my family.

The Final Day of the Harvest Festival.

I stood in the city hall corridor overlooking the central square.

Beyond the glass doors, a spacious balcony—doubling as a banquet hall—was to be our stage.

Past the railing, the cityscape glittered like a garden embroidered with light—street stalls, lanterns, small fireworks, mini circus acts... All the sparks of joy from citizens celebrating the festival’s final night.

Beside me, Tristan spoke.

"Nervous, Dory?"

"Less than I expected. Since I can’t see the crowd’s faces, it just feels like we’re dancing alone."

"That’ll change once we step out. They’ll cheer when they see us."

"Are you trying to make me nervous?"

Instead of answering, Tristan chuckled, spiking my tension by 150%.

"Your Highness..."

"...Didn’t I say it before? If you lend me your hand, everything will be over before you know it."

"You did. Such comforting words!"

"It’s not comfort—it’s the truth. Don’t think. Just give me your hand."

Is not thinking even possible? The moment you tell someone not to think of A, all they can think of is A...

But there was no more time to hesitate. In the distance, bells chimed to mark the dance, and Tristan opened the glass doors.

"Let’s go."

Before I knew it, my hand was on Tristan’s arm as we stepped forward. Just two steps in, the crowd’s cheers crashed over us like a wave.

"Wooaaah! The Prince!"

"Your Highness, the Crown Princess! You’re stunning!"

The voices of the festival-goers, drunk on excitement, made my heart pound.

Will I be okay? What if I trip while dancing? What if I mess up?

But just as my mind spiraled into chaos—

Tristan lowered his head slightly, brushing his lips against my forehead.

"..."

The moment I realized what he’d done, his whisper tickled the bridge of my nose.

"...It’ll be fine, Dory. I promise."

Even as another wave of cheers surged from the square, this time, my mind didn’t tense up—it went completely blank. At the same time, Tristan’s arms wrapped around me.

Only one thing was certain now: Just as Tristan had said, everything would fall into place.