I Proposed to My Childhood Friend After Regressing - Chapter 1

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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After My Regression, I Proposed to My Childhood Friend
Chapter 1
There are a few facts in the Edbain Empire that mark you as a spy if you don’t know them.
One was that Alec, the Emperor’s older brother, was devastatingly handsome; another was that the strawberry cake from Luna Bakery, a 127-year-old establishment, tasted like heaven itself; and the last was the deep bond of friendship between House Hartwell and House Dalton.
In other words…….
“My goodness, Beatrice! You look absolutely radiant today!”
“Oh, thank you for coming on such short notice.”
“Of course I had to come! And not just anyone’s wedding—yours! Honestly, we all kind of saw this coming with you and Clyde, you know?”
It was to say that everyone had naturally accepted the marriage of Beatrice Hartwell and Clyde Dalton, who had been friends for so long.
Even though the two people who had insisted they were never that close held their wedding within a month, like striking flint on a whim.
Beatrice gazed at her friend—who had known it from the moment they used to bicker carelessly at the Academy—and smiled without conviction.
“Really?”
“Really! You two are in different departments and different years, but you showed up so much that everyone thought you were in the same one.”
That was because Clyde Dalton, scatterbrained as ever, kept leaving his assignments in her room.
“And at graduation, you two ended up as partners anyway, right? There were rumors that you were dating in secret.”
That was just… he’d forgotten the date and couldn’t find a partner, so it happened that way.
She still vividly remembered Clyde’s expression when she’d gone to ask him—the way he’d grinned obnoxiously, asking if she was curious about the effort he’d put in.
‘I even had to give him that limited-edition cake from Luna Bakery…….’
She’d waited months just to buy it, and that stingy idiot ate it all by himself without giving her a single bite.
But she couldn’t bring up such things at a wedding. Beatrice swallowed down the genuine frustration rising to her throat and forced her lips into another smile.
“Really.”
“When Clyde escorted you out, people’s suspicions turned to certainty. There were actually people crying in the back. Today will probably be worse, right? Or maybe even better since there’s no denying it now?”
“Really?”
She couldn’t fathom why anyone would cry out of envy.
Her friend, nodding rapidly, continued as if it were obvious, shrugging her shoulders.
“Even if he is the Duke’s second son, Clyde is handsome. Capable, sincere.”
“Mm-hmm.”
Handsome…….
‘They don’t realize.’
That it wasn’t just the Duchess who deserved credit for Clyde Dalton’s celebrated appearance.
‘Every time I get my skin treatments, he sneaks my whitening paste and oils to use on himself—no wonder his skin glows.’
And that’s not even counting it. Sincere? Sincere?
Beatrice wished everyone in the empire could see him sprawling on the carpet, whining about not wanting to do his work.
Then these compliments would stick in people’s throats!
‘Ugh, I don’t want to write this report…….’
‘So what? And why are you in my room doing this?’
‘Beatrice, can’t you just write it for me? Hm? Please write it.’
‘Leave.’
‘Leave? I’m shocked, Beatrice. Did I raise you to be this cold-hearted?’
‘What are you saying? You’re only a year older. Leave.’
She was barely maintaining her smile while recalling a scene she’d witnessed just days ago when a light knock came from the door. It was her older brother, Ian.
“Beatrice, it’s time to make your entrance.”
“Already?”
“Yes, already.”
Why was everything moving so fast?
Ian watched his younger sister gathering up the hem of her dress for a moment before turning to greet her friend.
“Thank you for attending despite your busy schedule, Susanna.”
“Of course! Come on, Beatrice, let’s go! You’ve got this!”
Leaving behind her excited friend waving her hands, Beatrice took her brother’s hand.
Before the chapel doors.
Noticing his younger sister’s expression—smiling but somehow sullen—Ian chuckled softly and tapped her shoulder.
“What’s wrong with your face?”
“There’s nothing wrong with my face.”
“You threw such a fit in front of the family saying you’d marry Clyde, I thought you’d be grinning ear to ear, but you’re not.”
“Well, that’s……!”
Beatrice was about to reflexively argue with her older brother when she clamped her mouth shut. Not because she had nothing to say, but because the chapel doors were opening for the bride’s entrance.
Catching a glimpse of his sister’s nervous expression, he smiled quietly and extended his hand again, whispering softly.
“Let’s go.”
“All right.”
Though hastily arranged, the hall was filled with fresh flowers and clearly decorated with care.
Beatrice held her breath and let her gaze drift past the people watching her, focusing instead on the man standing upon the elegant white cloth.
Deep blue eyes like the sea, a straight and sharp nose, a strong masculine jawline, and lips curved in a gentle arc.
The man with hair the color of golden honey stood in perfect form, like a prince from a fairy tale.
It was Clyde Dalton, soon to be her husband.
‘The exterior is genuinely well-made, I’ll give him that.’
No wonder everyone fell for his appearance.
Thinking what a wretched creature humans were, so dependent on sight, Beatrice approached him.
As the two clasped hands and smiled tenderly, they whispered softly to each other.
“If you dare kiss me during the vows, I’ll actually kill you.”
“Just get your veil angle right.”
A light scoff and a grip that tightened with resolve.
There was nothing remotely harmonious about the betrothed couple when seen up close.
And there was good reason for these two to be holding a wedding ceremony.
Standing before the officiant with Clyde, Beatrice recalled what happened a month ago.
That is to say, when she had proposed to him…… or rather, been proposed to…… well, anyway, that day.
* * *
Duke Dalton’s Glass Greenhouse.
In a place normally off-limits to all but family members of House Dalton, Beatrice sipped the head maidservant’s special Ice Tea while carefully reading over a note she’d written.
[If Clyde Dalton asks why he should marry you, here’s what to say:
1. Eventually people will start pestering us about marriage anyway—how about we use each other as shields?
2. Because I’m cute
3.
……wait, because I’m… cute?
4. (Only as a last resort!☆☆☆☆☆) Get down on your knees and beg. ‘This is my one and only request. Please do this as if you’re saving a life.’]
Faced with content that was essentially “no plan,” Beatrice stuffed the note into her pocket and pressed her forehead.
“What good is a regression if I can’t even plan something like this properly?”
Suddenly, her advisor’s repeated nagging came to mind.
‘Remember! The ability to construct appropriate lies and pretense is the virtue of nobility!’
Beatrice let out a small sigh as she recalled the professor’s ringing voice.
‘I should have paid better attention…….’
Who knew she’d regret brushing off lectures on high society because she had no interest in it?
A shameless part of her whispered that if she had to be regressed anyway, she wished it had been pushed back by one year—or three, even—so she could finally become a model student and graduate top of the Department of Liberal Arts.
‘Then I really would have been a model student this time!’
It was a hollow promise that would have made Clyde laugh until he cried.
Just as Beatrice was letting her idle imagination wander, the door opened and golden hair suddenly appeared.
It was Clyde Dalton, her intended.
“Sigh…….”
At the sigh that slipped out without her noticing, Clyde’s eyebrows rose slightly as he pulled back his chair.
Settling his rear into the seat and tilting his head slightly, he casually brought Beatrice’s Ice Tea to his lips and asked.
“What’s with the sigh?”
“From looking at your pathetic face, why else.”
“Oh, it must have been a gasp of admiration at how handsome I am.”
“Are you hurt? Did His Highness the Crown Prince hit you on the head for being useless at your work?”
“That’s blasphemy.”
Beatrice pouted as she watched him sip the Ice Tea again, as if the price of her silence was his continued theft of her drink.
The person who should be drinking Ice Tea was not him with his ‘oh, the peach is nice and ripe’ comments, but her, whose throat was so parched it felt like it might wither.
‘How should I even begin this?’
Clyde, all the days we’ve spent together…….
‘No, that’s too corny.’
I’m going to be direct, Clyde—you’re my…….
‘Ugh! No!’
Just thinking about it made her fingers curl in embarrassment.
She touched the crumpled proposal note once more, then took a deep breath and steadied herself again.
‘Get it together. You can do this. No, you have to.’
Otherwise, she wouldn’t be able to avoid the tragedy she’d seen haunting her dreams.
Having gathered her courage at last, Beatrice was just parting her lips when Clyde, setting down his Ice Tea on the table, suddenly opened his mouth and met her gaze.
“Beatrice, will you marry me?”
After My Regression, I Proposed to My Childhood Friend
Author: Nok An
Publisher: Feelyeon Management
E-mail: [email protected]
Price: Web Serial
UCI: G720:N+A038-20260527031
* This work is protected by copyright law. You must obtain permission from the copyright holder to reuse any part of this book’s content.

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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