I Proposed to My Childhood Friend After Regression
Chapter 10
The hallway, where the heat of the boisterous ballroom had somewhat subsided.
Valois quietly followed Beatrice as she walked toward somewhere.
Then, as soon as she confirmed that the people had thinned out and the two of them were finally alone in the hallway, she let out a loud "Ah!" and slumped to the floor.
Hearing the cry from behind, Beatrice turned around, hesitated for a moment, and then slowly approached her.
"Oh my... Is something the matter?"
As expected. Just as she thought.
Valois curled the corners of her lips at the sight of Beatrice, who was as naive and kind as she had imagined.
Beatrice belonged to the type of person Valois found ridiculous. The kind who had no skills, no power, and yet was overflowing with goodwill, making them easy to exploit.
'Well, that works in my favor.'
Sneering inwardly, Valois let out a weak groan.
"My... stomach..."
"Your stomach?"
"My stomach hurts so much..."
"Oh, I see... um, is that so?"
"I don't think I can walk on my own... Could you please help me to the lounge over there?"
"Oh..."
Valois watched Beatrice’s face carefully, waiting for her to glance back and forth between the direction of the lounge and herself.
The wavy platinum blonde hair that looked like it would feel soft to the touch, the gentle-looking light green eyes, the flushed cheeks that made her look dim-witted.
'She looks exactly like who she is.'
Setting aside the aesthetic aspect, that was the vibe she gave off. Vacant and hopelessly soft-hearted.
Even while judging Beatrice in her mind, Valois never once thought she would refuse.
Unless Beatrice knew her true identity, people like her simply couldn't leave someone in distress alone.
'So hurry up and say yes.'
Just as she was barely holding onto her fading patience, an unexpected answer popped out from Beatrice.
"Um, I'm sorry. I... I have to go somewhere urgently right now."
"Urgently? Is it so urgent that you can leave a sick person behind?"
"Well... I would have helped you under normal circumstances, but I have an appointment to meet someone..."
"..."
"Are you having trouble moving? For now, please sit here! I'll call a servant on my way so they can help you right away!"
...An appointment to meet someone?
Valois, eyes narrowed beneath her mask, calculated rapidly.
Come to think of it, she remembered hearing something related to that from the people who were chattering loudly a while ago.
'To think he’d bring a shawl to the powder room, Sir Dalton is as gentlemanly and sweet as the rumors say! Why, the rumors were rampant even in the Knights, weren't they?'
'Ah, I’ve heard that story quite a bit too... I think he has a cuter and more romantic side than I thought?'
'A romantic side, you say.'
'I only overheard it in the powder room so it’s not certain, but it seems he prepared some kind of event just for the two of them. He emphasized several times that she must come to the meeting spot. You know, that old tree in the garden.'
'If it’s the old tree in the garden, you mean the one famous as a confession spot?'
'Yes! That one!'
Valois’s eyes sank low as she retraced the conversation that had surfaced in her mind.
'Was this the reason they separated for a moment? And Beatrice, this woman too. To refuse to do what she would normally do just to meet her beloved husband?'
—Grind.
'My, what a grand love.'
Valois kept her eyes on Beatrice, who had seated herself on a stool provided in the hallway and turned away.
Various thoughts flashed rapidly through Valois’s mind.
Should she cover her mouth from behind and drag her into any room right now?
Since she knew where she was headed, should she have her prepared lackeys ambush her on the way to the garden?
Either way, it was self-evident that it was easier to strike when she was alone, which was a rare occurrence. However...
'...I have to see it with my own eyes.'
Once her mood was soured, Valois had the twisted thought of wanting to see just how far this feeling would hit rock bottom.
'To spend even that fleeting moment of separation for the sake of the other? Clyde Dalton?'
It was a side of him she had never seen, heard of, or even imagined while chasing after him.
What hurt Valois’s pride was that there was a side to Clyde Dalton that she didn't know.
Whether it was feelings for her or not, whether he had found out through secret investigations or not, there shouldn't be anything about Clyde Dalton that she didn't know.
'Because he is mine.'
It was a highly possessive and insane thought, but to Valois, it was a right as natural as the common sense that the sun rises in the morning.
'And if it’s true that my possession has a side I don't know about. Then...'
By the time Beatrice’s back faded from view, she stood up and draped the robe she had brought with her.
Then, she slowly followed the path Beatrice had taken, moving her steps at a leisurely pace.
Walking while imagining the look on her face as she ran off in excitement and Clyde Dalton waiting for her, she felt not just unpleasant, but a surge of perverse amusement.
Of course, if Beatrice had known, she would have surely lunged at her, asking who she thought she was to say that.
Unlike Valois’s delusion that she had run off in excitement, Beatrice had run off in sheer terror.
'Damn it, that crazy woman actually followed me? What kind of love is worth committing a crime over? Is she insane? Or is this what power is? Lady Valois must think the world is a very easy place to live in!'
And she was screaming that in her head like a machine gun.
* * *
"Huff... I made it, I made it... This is the place, right...? Ugh, huff...!"
There is a reason why a madwoman is called a madwoman!
Beatrice had run to the meeting spot without even catching her breath, fearing that Valois might come from behind and grab her by the throat to shake her violently.
Just as she was clutching her bursting chest and holding onto the old tree with her other hand, a water bottle suddenly entered her field of vision.
"...Wow, look at that preparation. I’ll admit you’re a lifesaver for now. No, honestly, I guessed it? But seeing it in person, I got goosebumps!"
"..."
"Like, I thought I could hear my heart beating in my ears? Ugh, I’m dying."
Thinking it was naturally Clyde, she took the bottle and gulped down the water.
"Aren't you talking a bit too much for someone who’s dying?"
A familiar yet strange voice pierced her ears from close by. That is to say, a voice that was definitely not Clyde Dalton’s!
"Cough! Cough!"
"Ah, sorry, I didn't know you’d be this surprised. Are you alright?"
"Cough! Ye, yes... Ugh."
Beatrice, who had barely calmed down, wiped away the tears that had welled up in her eyes from the physiological reaction and examined the person in front of her.
"Eh, Your Highness Crowell?"
"To think you’d have the same reaction as Clyde. Yes, it’s me."
"What, why are you here, Your Highness?"
At her attitude, as if she were looking at a neighbor who rarely came out, Crowell let out a small, dry laugh.
Well, that wasn't entirely wrong.
Crowell’s mother, Empress Iyet, and Beatrice’s father, Jedaric, were from the same country, so if one were to be generous, they were related in a very, very distant way.
Watching her wide-open light green eyes, Crowell shrugged lightly.
"I came because Clyde asked me to help. I came by carving out some of my busy time, mind you."
"Help? With what?"
"Who knows. He did say I’d know right away if I waited by this old tree. For now, I don't know anything other than handing you the water, Beatrice."
Hearing Crowell’s words, Beatrice narrowed her eyes.
That brat Clyde looked like he would get everything for free with just his face, but he was a wily one who used his head.
'...This guy, he didn't tell me everything, did he?'
Clearly, Clyde had emphasized that she should stick to him at all times because he didn't know what the explosive Valois might do.
This meeting spot was also a rendezvous point they had decided on in case something happened in situations where they had to be apart, like the restroom.
In other words, it meant that the two of them had been plotting ways to deal with and resolve whatever Valois might do together.
'That’s why I begged Dad to get me an Obscura for recording in preparation for such a situation!'
Whether the traditionalist nobles would accept the contents recorded here as evidence was a separate issue, but regardless, that was their plan.
'If meeting me here isn't the plan, then where on earth is this guy and what is he doing?'
Just as Beatrice was frowning while fiddling with a brooch that was flashing with artificial light, if one looked closely—
—Clatter, thud!
"...Huh?"
Along with the sound of something being thrown and shattering, a strange burnt smell awakened her sense of smell.
Wondering what on earth was happening, Beatrice poked her head out from beside the old tree and opened her mouth without realizing it.
"Your Highness, th, th, that...!"
"Oh my."
Because standing beside the small flame that had just begun to burn were Clyde, whom she had been cursing inwardly, and today’s person of interest, Valois Edvain Crawford.
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