I Proposed to My Childhood Friend After Regressing - Chapter 38

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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 38
—Bang!
A loud crash echoing from the Storage drew every eye in the Treatment Center toward it.
Among them was Cassian, who had been moving supplies to create a temporary holding area.
The sight of Beatrice—visibly frantic and unsettled—made Cassian’s expression darken.
“Miss Crowell? Are you alright? Has something happened—”
“No, I—there’s just something urgent I need to attend to, it’s—”
Cassian caught her arm as she tried to brush past him.
“Miss, wait. Before you leave, let me at least check your condition. Your complexion looks quite poor.”
“Later—it has to be later!”
Beatrice seemed to have forgotten this was a Treatment Center entirely.
Speaking in fragments, she wrenched her arm free and bolted from the building without another word.
“Miss Crowell!”
“Ah… I suspected as much.”
A sigh from the side made Cassian pause before he could follow. It was Jeremy.
He shook his head sadly, as though he’d been watching Beatrice for some time, and murmured to himself.
“Just as I feared.”
“What do you mean?”
“Miss Valois hasn’t been in good spirits lately. I suggested she take on different duties, but she insisted she was fine. I knew this would happen.”
“…Was Miss Valois in the Storage?”
“Yes. She’s been attempting escapes rather frequently. I thought it unwise, but… well, here we are.”
“…”
“What harsh words could she have heard to upset her so?”
At Jeremy’s words, Cassian stared toward the Treatment Center’s open doors.
Beatrice’s figure had long since vanished, but his choice was clear.
“Jeremy.”
“Yes?”
“I’ll send someone to handle the temporary holding area.”
“Oh—yes! Thank you so much!”
“Not at all. There’s much I wished to examine myself, but the circumstances don’t allow it at present.”
Jeremy noticed where Cassian’s gaze lingered and spoke quickly.
“It does seem you came today to assess the Treatment Center’s status… If you need any records, just tell me. I’ll have them prepared.”
“Then I’ll ask. First, I need the quantity of relief supplies and provisions distributed to this facility, along with the roster of those who received them. Beyond that—”
A steady stream of requests flowed from Cassian: patient severity classifications and numbers, current staffing deployment, and more.
Some were details Beatrice had shared that needed verification; others he’d deduced from observing the facility.
Having covered the essentials methodically, he hesitated briefly before adding one final request.
“And if possible, I’d also appreciate any information regarding Miss Valois Edvain Crowell.”
“Regarding her in what sense precisely—”
“Everything. More specifically, her movements since arriving in the Marquis Territory.”
Jeremy cleared his throat awkwardly at Cassian’s words.
“Well—ahem! If I may be so bold as to ask: why? Even if she hasn’t formally joined the Knights Order, she is one of our people.”
“Of course. This isn’t a matter of surveillance, but rather a precaution for her safety.”
“…”
“His Highness the Grand Duke is currently at the Border with my father. Should she come to harm during one of her escapes, it would be most grave indeed.”
It was a perfectly reasonable statement for an acting marquis to make.
After a moment’s consideration, Jeremy nodded in agreement.
As the deputy, sharing the safety concerns of both the Marquis and Crowell houses seemed the only justified choice.
* * *
While Cassian concluded his arrangement with Jeremy and set out to follow her,
Beatrice had already reached the Marquis Mansion, breathless and searching for Clyde.
“Miss Crowell?”
“Hah—huff… C-Clyde, are you—”
“Lord Dalton isn’t here at the moment. He informed us this morning he’d be conducting separate operations for some time… But more pressingly, are you unwell? You don’t look yourself.”
Separate operations starting today?
‘That’s an ominous sign if I’ve ever heard one!’
Regardless of genre, splitting from the group in a dangerous environment was a Death Flag.
Especially after hearing such shocking words from Valois Crowell herself!
Beatrice shook her head at the Aide, who had begun to rise uneasily.
Instead, she steadied her breathing and pressed on with her question.
“So… do you know where he is now? Has he gone out, or—”
“Ah…”
The Aide’s response grew evasive at Beatrice’s question.
After a moment’s hesitation, he looked at her face and his lips finally moved.
Knowing her true identity, there seemed little reason to withhold the truth.
He glanced around once more, then lowered his voice.
“I cannot explain all the details here, but His Highness and Lord Dalton will be staying in their respective quarters for some time.”
“In the Mansion’s…?”
“Yes, precisely. However, access is restricted for now, so whether you can meet them remains uncertain. He instructed that even the head maid need not attend to them.”
Surely that was meant to be reassuring somehow…
‘But it just makes things worse.’
Wasn’t that essentially saying it would be impossible to know if something happened to them?
Beatrice’s mind raced faster than it ever had.
‘Valois specifically mentioned Crowell the Crown Prince and Clyde—both their deaths. And how convenient, they’re both shut away in their own quarters right now?’
Could this really be coincidence?
‘Not a chance.’
That left only limited possibilities: either someone within the Knights Order was working with her, or the reverse.
‘Either way… I need to see him.’
Beatrice had to confirm Clyde was safe and relay everything Valois had said to him.
“Thank you!”
“Wait—Miss! Actually—Miss Crowell!”
The flustered Aide’s voice faded behind her as Beatrice rushed without hesitation toward his quarters.
She bounded up the stairs and raced down the corridor.
The hallway was unusually silent—whether from what the Aide had said or otherwise.
Pushing down her mounting dread, Beatrice shoved open the door to Clyde’s room.
“Clyde!”
She called his name urgently, her eyes sweeping the interior.
Within moments, she spotted him pouring water from a kettle to drink.
“Wait… you’re fine?”
At the sight of Clyde looking perfectly normal, her breath finally came.
Ignoring the sudden wave of exhaustion, Beatrice rushed toward him.
She meant to examine him thoroughly from head to toe.
“Don’t come near me!”
His sudden appearance seemed to confuse him, and Clyde’s frown deepened—but he did nothing to stop her approach.
—Click.
As the door swung shut from the momentum, Clyde let out a soft groan.
He rubbed his forehead with disbelief, then turned to look at Beatrice as he opened his mouth.
“…Beatrice, why are you here? You said you were going with Cassian to investigate the Treatment Center, didn’t you?”
His tone suggested she shouldn’t be here at all.
Narrowing her eyes at his strange tone, Beatrice pressed on urgently.
“That’s not important right now! Are you hurt? Did you meet anyone suspicious?”
“What? What are you talking about?”
“Just answer! I ran into Valois Crowell at the Treatment Center, and she told me you and the Crown Prince are going to die!”
“…Valois Crowell?”
“Yes! I got so worried something might happen to you—”
Beatrice struck her chest in frustration. And as she moved to step forward again,
“Beatrice, stay right there.”
Clyde’s short, firm voice stopped her once more.
“Don’t do anything from this point on.”
It was an oddly strange thing to say, one too unusual to simply overlook.

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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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