Even If Your Regret Tries to Hold Me Back - Chapter 4

They say people who have received their death date have a list of things they want to eat and do that reaches the sky. But Helena had only one thing.

To have a small, modest house of her own in Praeterita.

That village held the graves of Basil and her mother. It was her hometown, filled with longing and affection. Being near the communal cemetery, it wouldn’t cost much to build a warm log cabin.

Once the house was completed, she would place a soft, plush single-person sofa and a table with a white lace tablecloth by the window.

She would fill shelves with honey and various jams, and, ah, she almost forgot the clattering wooden tableware. Perhaps she would store fruits in glass bowls rather than wooden baskets.

She would buy ingredients from the small but generous grocery store and butcher shop to cook meals. And like a cemetery keeper, she would visit the graves daily to pull weeds and catch insects.

That’s all she wanted to do after giving up her title as Grand Duchess. Instead of allocating funds for her mother-in-law’s banquets, she calculated what she needed to fill her own home.

And so Helena set out on the journey to Hyer, where the Owen mansion stood. Before going to Praeterita, she intended to collect Basil and her mother’s belongings that remained with the Owen family. And also gather funds to build her house.

“Hey there, pretty lady! These just came in this morning, they’re so fresh! Come take a look!”

“You’ll regret it if you don’t buy now, you’ll regret it!”

“Just lower the price a little more!”

The journey was chaotic. The tumult everywhere was something she couldn’t have imagined in Evergale.

Helena wandered wherever her feet took her, trying on clothes that caught her eye. Stopping in front of a passing shop window, she saw a reflection of a provincial-looking woman.

Suddenly she realized that living carelessly was much harder than she had thought. At least for someone who had lived calculating every small gesture for others.

A baby elephant tied to a stake cannot pull it out even when grown. For Helena, regression was like that.

Not a new opportunity for enlightenment, but shackles that gradually subdued and broke her through repeated failures.

She couldn’t be the protagonist in stories who boldly shakes everything off and stands up.

She was utterly ordinary, perhaps at best a supporting character who needs constant effort. The price of stepping down from the stage herself was great.

‘That person is gone now. I abandoned him. I’m the one who left.’

Already repeating this for the thirteenth time, Helena habitually undid the thin string that had tied her hair. There was no longer any need to look proper.

People couldn’t suddenly change. Even after leaving Eugene, she was still, even more so, the insignificant Helena.

So she kept repeating to herself like a form of brainwashing.

‘I’m not lonely. I don’t feel empty.’

Even this was so calculating that it left a bitter taste in her mouth. Remembering her mother-in-law’s scolding of this trait, she had to bite her lip.

[Men don’t water wilted flowers, Helena. It’s hard enough to look at you like a pile of dry firewood, let alone secretly kindle a fire.]

At the time, she had been busy swallowing back her tears, but there was no lie to filter out.

After all, wasn’t it her lack of courage to filter out lies that had brought her this far?

So Helena deliberately did things that a noble Grand Duchess would never do.

She forced herself to laugh at street clowns, ate food sold at market stalls, and even slept in the corner of a shabby stable.

Making her worries before leaving the mansion seem pointless.

Seem pointless.

‘I’m not lonely.’

It was fun.

It had to be.

She repeated it habitually.

Whether she was living or just enduring, time passed faster than she thought, without her knowing.

The carriage body bobbed up and down to the rhythm of the clopping hooves. Within it, Helena placed her hand over her hungry stomach. Surely her hand must have a person’s body temperature, yet it felt cold.

Treacherously, the bottom was easily revealed, and she keenly felt how starved she was for everything.

Sometimes she thought she should have brought some money from the Grand Duke’s residence. But she quickly erased that thought from her mind.

‘Even if it’s a struggle, it can’t be helped. If I can’t deceive myself, I shouldn’t leave any room for it.’

From the moment she left, she neither expected nor hoped that her life would become rainbow-colored. If she had, she wouldn’t have rushed out so recklessly.

She just wanted to finally deny the shelter that had become her skin. Even if it meant bleeding vividly, she had to peel it off.

‘And even in the midst of that, I…’

Deliberately ignoring her hungry side and insides, she turned her head sideways. Dark green vegetation brushed the edges of her vision.

Having been quite far from the destination, she had been changing carriages and riding for a full five days.

Though somewhat awkward, she would soon meet her family.

‘Not that they’re particularly affectionate toward me.’

Her mother, who had been her only ally, died after giving birth to her younger sibling, and her father brought in a new woman before the soil on her mother’s grave had even dried.

The older brother who came with her stepmother constantly reached out with malicious hands until she left for Evergale.

They were people who, blinded by money, married her off like selling livestock. Even so…

“They’re still family after all.”

“Pardon?”

The coachman sitting beside her asked, perhaps having heard her mumble to herself. His eyes, lined with fine wrinkles, were round with curiosity.

It had already been half a day since she boarded the final carriage.

He seemed surprised that she had broken the silence she had maintained throughout the journey. Helena shook her head, erasing her bitter expression.

“It’s nothing.”

Fortunately, the coachman didn’t inquire further. Since she wasn’t in the mood for pleasant conversation, he was a satisfactory companion to her.

The bumpy carriage was now approaching its destination. The coachman, gradually slowing the horse, casually started a conversation.

“So what brings you here? You seem to have come from quite a distance.”

“…My family lives here.”

“Looks like it’s been a while since you’ve seen them. How many years has it been?”

“…Yes. I haven’t been able to visit since attending my younger sibling’s funeral.”

“Oh my. Still, it must be nice to see your family’s faces after so long.”

Helena pressed her lips tightly shut. This time she didn’t answer. It was a conversation she couldn’t continue.

She closed her eyes again and leaned against the hard wooden board. Until they arrived and she paid the fare, Helena spent her time just like that.

Getting off the carriage and slowly entering the outskirts of the village, the coachman waved to her.

“Have a pleasant time with your family, lovely miss!”

He was exceedingly kind. But Helena couldn’t even happily receive that encouragement. Only a bitter smile lingered on her lips.

‘A pleasant time with family.’

Could there be a more dissonant sentence? It felt like thorns had sprouted in her ears that had consumed the words.

Helena stood still until the sound of horse hooves on the gravel road could no longer be heard. Everything around her felt unfamiliar.

The wind tousling her hair,

The undergrowth touching her ankles,

The blazing sun,

The weight of the luggage bag in her grasp.

Every object and sensation in the world pressed down on her. It felt as if the silent ground would flip over and swallow her at any moment.

The Grand Duke’s physician had told her to take deep breaths and clear her mind as much as possible whenever such thoughts came, but it wasn’t as easy as he made it sound.

Helena remained frozen in place for a while, like a tree that had taken root. The first step forward was difficult.

‘It’s okay, there’s nothing to be nervous about.’

How nice would it be if emotions could be cut off as easily as cutting useless hair?

Despite her resolve not to expect anything, there was still a corner of her heart that longed for affection. It made her a little sad.

****

The capital of the Western Continent’s Empire of Rihalt, Thebe.

In the heart of the imperial palace, there was a room where the lights never went out, even at this late hour.

A voice, more solemn than usual, filled the spacious room as if it would overflow.

“Dion. As far as I know, I’ve completed everything I needed to do.”

The one called instinctively shrank back. Looking at the owner of the voice, he noticed one eyebrow slightly raised. His justified ominous feeling grew.

Whenever he looked at him that way, it always meant events that required him to search for blood pressure medication.

‘What on earth is he planning to do now? He’s been working nonstop lately, not even sleeping…’

Dion imagined pulling that eyebrow back into place as he answered.

“You have indeed completed all the essential schedules, but you mustn’t neglect preparations for next month’s trade and exchange meeting with the Kingdom of Usturn. Especially since the Crown Prince will be attending this delegation, you should pay more-“

“I’ve already paid great attention and finished.”

“The recommended personnel for imperial appointments-“

“Seen it. I’ve organized and sent it to the administration department, so you can check it later.”

“The newly revised tax bill-“

“Hey.”

Without giving him a chance to finish, the man tilted his chin.

Dion’s gaze followed its direction. A pile of documents, stacked like an impregnable tower, immediately filled his view.

Normally, he would have meticulously checked documents addressed to him for any omissions or proper approvals. But Dion didn’t bother to sift through the pile of papers.

His monarch, despite occasionally displaying incomprehensible eccentricities, was not someone who did his work carelessly. In fact, due to his tendency to see things through to the end, Dion often found himself more exhausted.

The fact that his interests were limited was why serving a capable monarch still gave him headaches.

Remembering something, Dion brought up a new agenda.

“Then perhaps you might consider narrowing down the candidates for Empress… You’ve been saying you’ll handle it yourself every time, but there’s been no progress for two years now. You need to ignite the competition among candidates and hold the royal wedding before it’s too late.”

“Yes, that’s a good idea.”

“No matter how much you postpone it, you can no longer… What? W-what did you just say?”

“I said that’s a good idea.”

Dion’s drowsy eyes snapped wide open. Why is he approving so easily?

He had been immovable despite the ministers’ pestering. Whenever they managed to push even a list of candidates, he would vehemently reject it as if it were a poisoned cup. This had been going on for a long time.

Dion excitedly blurted out:

“Then I’ll prepare the list right away…!”

“I need to go on a trip.”

Dion’s face, which had lit up with joy, darkened within seconds. His bad feeling had never been wrong.

‘Better to die than suffer.’

Though inwardly exasperated, all he could do was bite his lip. The man before him was of a status where one couldn’t rashly display disloyalty.

The ruler of the Empire of Rihalt. The moon that brought the day by overthrowing tyranny.

Ian Kamel Aksen Fevernheim.