I Proposed to My Childhood Friend After Regressing - Chapter 6

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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 Confessed to My Childhood Friend
Episode 6
“Recognized as a married couple, you say…. How dare you, right in front of me, weave another woman—not me—together with you?”
She gnawed at her lower lip as if offended, growling the words while her gaze cut toward the princess with razor sharpness.
“Is that actually true?”
“…… Yes. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you beforehand, Baloa. Since this concerns not just anywhere, but the Hartwell Earldom and the Dalton Dukedom, I sought my father’s blessing first and received his approval.”
Sorry, my foot. And ironically, it had been the princess herself who’d suggested obtaining the Emperor’s approval before the wedding ceremony.
‘I thought she was just excited at the time…’
Now it was clear—she’d been laying groundwork for this very moment.
If she meant to use Baloa’s willful rampage while keeping the marriage intact, she needed the Emperor as a shield, after all.
“Ha, haha! Hahaha!”
Sure enough, even Baloa—willful as she came—could not ignore the Emperor.
“You want me to step aside? Tell me to vanish without a word while two shameless people cling to each other in plain sight? Ha!”
Fury blazed to the tips of her hair as she thrashed from her seat, and in her rage, she hurled a Vase that shattered with a tremendous crash.
Behind her, gasps from the guests and the hurried footfalls of guards echoed as Baloa opened her mouth with exasperation.
“Seems you’re determined to paint me as the villain, so fine. Today I’ll withdraw just as you wish. But you know, a hunt doesn’t succeed by pushing alone, does it?”
“……”
“Still, remember this. I will never abandon what I want. If I cannot have it, I’ll break it, tear it, destroy it—whatever it takes to seize it once. And once I’m bored with it, I’ll discard it without hesitation!”
She swept her gaze slowly across the room as if searing this foul mood into memory, then spun on her heel with a cutting air.
Naturally, no one reached for her as she left.
***
The stormy wedding—a spectacle that would linger long in High Society—had ended. The pair who had seen off the last remaining guest had now become those being seen off themselves.
Family and friends offered their final farewells to the couple standing before the carriage.
“Congratulations again on the wedding, Beatrice! Safe travels!”
“Yes, I’ll bring back something delicious. Thank you for seeing us off to the very end, Miriel.”
“Congratulations on your marriage, senior! You two really do suit each other.”
“I’m so glad to hear it. Thank you for attending, Susanna.”
“Oh, don’t worry too much about what happened with Baloa. She’s always been rather…like that, you know? Besides, everyone in High Society sides with you two.”
“Right! We’re already legally married according to Imperial Law—what more can she do? Let’s just forget it ever happened!”
Forgetting is rather difficult given how vivid the memory remains…but does the truth matter? What matters is the kindness of the friends who stand by her.
Beatrice nodded emphatically and wrapped Susanna in a tight embrace, beaming.
“Who else was here? I don’t remember anyone besides you lot.”
“My goodness~!”
“Brother, once we’re gone, please look after my friends!”
“Don’t worry—just make sure you two travel safely. And no quarreling on the honeymoon, you hear?”
True to form as a sister, she ignored his counsel and climbed into the carriage.
Clyde, who had already boarded, assisted Beatrice with a courteous bow.
“We’ll pay our respects when we return.”
“Of course.”
The two had been waving tenderly through the window, arms intertwined, but the moment the figures of their relatives began to blur in the distance, they shifted to opposite sides of the carriage.
The timing was precise, as if rehearsed.
“Ugh, I thought I’d die from goosebumps.”
“You’re one to talk.”
Beatrice loosened her Cravat as she fired back, but before she could add another word—
—something seemed to occur to him. His brow lifted slightly, and a smile played across his lips.
It was one of those troubling smiles he wore whenever he meant to tease her.
“But there’s a problem. You’ll have to get used to this ‘goosebump-inducing’ business from now on, won’t you?”
“Nonsense……actually, you’re right? Hmm…. Just managing the wedding ceremony for that short stretch was exhausting, and now you’re saying I have to keep doing this constantly? Even changing how I address you—to ‘my,’ to ‘my…’ whatever that form is? Right?”
“My dear.”
“I didn’t forget the word.”
“If you find that too awkward, there’s darling, or honey, or my love. Oh, and sweetie.”
With each endearment Clyde rattled off, Beatrice’s expression grew colder. Displeased with every option, her eyes rolled as her voice turned glacial.
“I hate them all even more.”
“Is that so? I find they slip off my tongue rather naturally.”
“What? That’s a lie!”
The moment Beatrice fixed him with a skeptical stare, she realized she’d made a terrible mistake.
Clyde was smiling at her with an angelic softness in his eyes—as if he’d been waiting for exactly that objection.
Most suspiciously at that.
Catching the dangerous undercurrent, Beatrice reached out to cover his mouth, but he was faster.
He caught her hand deftly, interlaced their fingers with affection, and smiled as he spoke.
“A lie, you say? How could you, my darling. You don’t trust the word of your one and only honey, your other half?”
“Ugh.”
“Clyde is so hurt that my love mistrusts him so. I suppose we’ll have to call you ‘my dear’ instead, won’t we?”
“No! No, no, no! I concede! All right? Enough! Yeah?”
Beatrice was so flustered she nearly bit her tongue, and Clyde leaned in closer still.
“Hmm? What do you concede? Now, now, don’t squirm about so. Are you embarrassed, my darling? But thrashing about in a carriage can be dangerous, my dear.”
“You slick-tongued devil! Stop it, you maniac!”
With his other arm wrapped around her waist, trapping any escape, Beatrice swung the Cushion from the backrest at him.
Clyde caught the Cushion with ease, releasing his hold. His shoulders shrugged in victory as he added with a smug air:
“If you don’t want to keep losing to me, adapt quickly. You’ll be saying it constantly from here on.”
“Exaggeration. You weren’t this clingy even at the wedding. What reason is there to be stuck to each other like this?”
“Well, that’s…”
His unusual hesitation made Beatrice’s eyes narrow once more. She was trying to gauge what nonsense he was cooking up now.
Despite her wariness, he fell silent as if mulling something over before lobbing an unexpected question at her.
“Since we’re alone, let me ask honestly—Beatrice, how did it feel when the princess supported our marriage and helped us conduct the ceremony so swiftly?”
“How did it feel, you ask…”
She chided him for the strange question, but even so, Beatrice sank into thought. His expression had grown more serious than she’d expected.
She propped her chin on one hand, blinked a few times, and slowly parted her lips.
“Well, at first I was satisfied, right? As someone who knew the ending, I was looking forward to it too. And…”
“And?”
She lowered her gaze briefly, pressing her lips together softly.
‘And it was somewhat unpleasant.’
She couldn’t pinpoint the exact emotion, but her stomach had churned.
Paradoxical though it was, she’d felt both positive emotions—triumph, relief—and negative ones—frustration, irritation—all at once.
‘Like I’d won and lost simultaneously, somehow.’
“And when Baloa Edmund Crawford came and caused a scene?”
“Huh?”
Well…
‘But why am I thinking through the answer?’
Wasn’t it he who’d asked why she needed to grow accustomed to the form of address? Beatrice was about to protest when—
“I was furious.”
His quiet voice from beside her made her eyes widen slightly. She turned to look at him, and he was no longer smiling with that playful air.
“It’s true we moved cleverly. In the end, we won. We used the princess as a shield, but we managed the situation with Baloa well enough.”
“……”
“But setting all that aside, what infuriated me was simply that this was the best I could manage right now.”
If only I had the ability and authority to navigate the situation without borrowing anyone’s power.
‘Of course, if I had such standing, I’d still use it if I could…’
But there was a vast difference between choosing from a position of absolute control and not. And Beatrice knew that truth better than anyone.
‘Because I’ve experienced it.’

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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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