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

Arthur swallowed briefly, startled, but then nodded. The murmurs of the soldiers rippled around them.

There was no need to get caught up in that.

"Focus. We will force the monster to appear today."

"Understood!"

Together, they strode deeper into the rocky mountains. Arthur set fire to the herbs said to provoke monsters and tossed them into every noticeable cave.

The most uptodate nove𝙡s are published on frёewebnoѵel.ƈo๓.

The testimonies of the mountain farmers hadn’t been false. Before long, they felt the ground tremble beneath them.

Before drawing his sword, Tristan clenched the hairpin in his pocket one last time.

For this moment, that hairpin was both his shield and his compass, leading him forward without fear.

***

"Count, after four hours of battle, the monster hunt has been successfully completed! A total of five creatures were taken down..."

Even in the face of this victorious news, Count Braum, the lord of Blue Atrium, furrowed his brows as if he were hearing about some distant kingdom’s affairs.

When the report ended, the first words out of his mouth had nothing to do with the peace of Blue Atrium.

"Who killed how many?"

The messenger barely suppressed his irritation before answering.

"This wasn’t a hunting tournament, so it’s difficult to quantify it so simply, but for reference, the Young Duke took down three."

"Good, good!"

The count chuckled.

"The prince did better than I expected, but... the Young Duke must have been letting him have some of the kills for the sake of his pride! The soldiers must have seen who truly performed best, right?"

"Well... the general opinion isn’t quite what we anticipated."

"What?"

"The soldiers didn’t keep track of how many monsters each person killed. They said that when both of them were risking their lives, it wasn’t something worth counting... The numbers I just reported were ones we managed to pull from them after much pressing."

"Tch! What does that even matter? In the end, numbers are all that remain! His Majesty will only care about those!"

"...Understood. In that case, I’ll conclude the report here."

The count was about to nod heartily when he noticed the messenger glancing at his papers. It was the look of someone with something else to say.

"What now?"

"It’s not exactly about His Highness’s prowess, but... there was something noteworthy about his actions."

"Speak."

"After assessing the damage suffered by the mountain farmers, His Highness declared that he would provide aid. Not just for personal property, but for shared community structures—stone bridges, small irrigation canals, and such."

"Pfft! What a pointless thing to concern himself with."

"......."

"...It is pointless, isn’t it? His Majesty wouldn’t bother listening to the complaints of a few farmers."

Count Braum shot his subordinate a questioning look.

With aged eyes filled only with greed and spite, he waited for a confirmation.

The messenger, however, reported what he had seen and heard honestly.

"The problem is... after witnessing His Highness’s actions, the soldiers’ attitudes toward him have grown noticeably favorable."

"What? Those sword-swinging brutes care about something like that?! Most of them are city men from the capital, aren’t they?"

"The majority of them are sons of rural farmers who don’t own land. It’s likely they empathized with the farmers."

"And they dare call themselves warriors with that soft mindset? Pathetic!"

"Furthermore... the most concerning thing is that Young Duke Arthur himself seemed to respond favorably to His Highness."

"......."

The unexpected turn of events widened the count’s eyes in disbelief.

That was right.

The soldiers and the residents of Blue Atrium weren’t the only witnesses here.

The one with the most influence was the Young Duke himself.

And he was set to inherit Frost Hill. He might not even care about claiming this land.

The count’s jaw trembled as he spoke.

"The Young Duke... he doesn’t seem to be eyeing Blue Atrium? Living in a place filled with monsters and blizzards, wouldn’t he go mad seeing a land this rich and fertile?"

"Not particularly..."

In truth, Count Braum knew the reality.

Frost Hill was a land of monsters, but it was also a land rich in mana stones—a far more lucrative resource.

Why would Arthur bother himself with farming land when his own estate already demanded his full attention?

The count let out a long, weary sigh.

"Must I really have to watch the land I built over my entire life be stolen away by some smug brat? A prince who was only lucky enough to be born into royalty?"

How pathetic for a man who was only lucky enough to be born into nobility to say that.

The messenger swallowed his irritation. After all, his own job security was tied to the count’s political survival.

Drowning in his own petty jealousy, the count clung to one last straw as the messenger leaned in and whispered:

"...Count, before His Highness and the Young Duke leave Blue Atrium, I have a plan I’d like to propose."

The third morning of their vacation dawned.

Unlike me—whose social energy had been completely drained by last night’s party—my parents were positively glowing.

"Prince Percival is truly a considerate man, wouldn’t you agree?"

"Indeed! Even away from the capital, we get to enjoy both nature and sophisticated socializing! When else would we ever have such an experience?"

Percival, you really won them over.

I stole a glance at my sister.

Despite having thoroughly enjoyed the party last night, she didn’t look particularly pleased.

Is she just as annoyed by Percival’s scheming as I am?

And as we were preparing for our short trip with him, one of my sister’s maids entered my room—pale as a sheet.

She whispered cautiously,

"Miss... is Lady Natalie alright?"

"Huh? Why are you asking that all of a sudden?"

"Well... earlier, she told us, ‘Since I won’t be here, you can use my cosmetics while I’m gone.’ She said she brought more than she needed and figured some would go to waste..."

"...What?"

"And last night... when I was brushing her hair, I accidentally pulled out a strand, but she didn’t say anything. At first, I thought she was just in a good mood because of the party, but now that I think about it, it felt strange..."

"Yeah, that definitely sounds strange."

Did she suddenly get diagnosed with a terminal illness or something?!

Just before I rushed off to my sister’s room, the maid grabbed my sleeve.

"Please don’t ask her directly, Miss! If she realizes I told you, I’ll be in trouble."

"...Alright."

"Then, I’ll take my leave. Please, look after Lady Natalie!"

My sister hadn’t exactly been the best employer.

And yet, had they grown attached to her despite everything? The maid bowed to me several times before hurrying out.

Not long after, Percival arrived to take my sister and me on our excursion.

"Your maids and luggage will be loaded onto the rear carriage," he informed us smoothly.

Loaded?

If I had been a language teacher, I’d have marked his phrasing in red ink and written, "Maids aren’t 'loaded'—they’re 'brought along.' Please match your subjects and predicates correctly."

But to him, it was all the same, wasn’t it?

Natalie was just as unimpressed.

"I wasn’t aware we’d be traveling for four days and three nights. I didn’t bring nearly enough luggage to warrant a separate carriage."

"Ah, but a lady can never have too much space for her belongings. Please, make yourself comfortable."

With that, my parents beamed again.

One of Natalie’s maids and my maid boarded the rear carriage.

And soon, our carriage departed.

After some time on the road, Percival, like a seasoned tour guide, pointed out the scenery.

"If you look to your right, you’ll see a beautiful ridge. That is our first destination. Lady Natalie, do you enjoy painting?"

"No."

"Then this is a perfect chance to try! The view is too magnificent to only capture in memory."

"...Is the mountain steep?"

"The lower slopes are gentle, more like a stroll. However, past the ruins, the terrain grows rugged—leading up to the convent."

"Hmm."

"There’s also a breathtaking waterfall. They say that if you misstep while admiring it, your body will never be recovered. Some even call it ‘the most beautiful grave in the world.’"

"Oh my, that sounds like a stunning place."

My sister’s eyes sparkled.

Percival smirked, the corners of his mouth lifting ever so slightly—like he was mocking her.

"Do you only react to provocative topics like this?"

But as I watched her expression, a very disturbing thought formed in my mind.

Was she... planning to push Percival off a cliff?

I mean, she was a villainess in the original novel—but was she really on that level?

...Right?