I Proposed to My Childhood Friend After Regressing - Chapter 95

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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 Regression, I Proposed to My Childhood Friend
Chapter 95
At the sound of Beatrice’s voice—strained as though wrung through cloth—the bustling movements of her family ceased.
Her appearance, flushed red as a perfectly ripe tomato, was adorable, embarrassing, and somehow amusing all at once.
Among the family members who had been silently gauging each other’s reactions, the Earl of Hartwell cleared his throat loudly.
“Ahem! Ah-hem! Well. It seems the sunlight is rather strong here, doesn’t it? Don’t you think so, my dear? Aren’t you feeling a bit warm yourself?”
Catching the signal the Earl had subtly thrown, Jedrick quickly took up his cue.
To be precise, everyone in the room participated without hesitation.
“Oh yes, quite right. You’re not wrong, Beliana—the house does feel rather warm. Perhaps we ought to open some windows?”
“I shall see to it at once.”
“No, Ian. Let’s go together.”
“Big brother, Father! Me too!”
As the three men hastily excused themselves, the Duchess opened her mouth with practiced ease.
“Hmm, then would you like to take a stroll, Beatrice? We’ve laid out quite a comfortable walking path behind the residence.”
“Yes, the flowers are in full bloom—quite lovely. Go have a look. If you’d rather not, you can rest in your room. As for Clyde…”
“I shall keep him occupied if need be.”
Faced with the desperate efforts of the Hartwell household, Beatrice covered her face with both hands.
Clyde, suddenly cast in the role of someone requiring protection, looked equally mortified—and so did she at the sight of her own predicament.
“…Yes, thank you very much…”
Accepting the family’s studied obliviousness with gratitude, Beatrice made her way toward the rear of the building.
The words of the Duke and Duchess had not been mere pleasantries to escape the moment.
The modest path, clearly laid with genuine care, was lined with flowers in full seasonal bloom.
Drawing in a deep breath of the soft, drifting breeze, Beatrice finally managed to settle her mind.
In the quiet solitude where no one else could see her, at last she found the courage to unfold the feelings she had so hastily crumpled away in her confusion.
‘Honestly, I wonder if I could just… not think about this.’
But no matter how she considered it, that simply wasn’t her way.
Putting it off wouldn’t make the tingling sensation crawling through her entire body like earthworms disappear, nor would it ease the tight squeezing of her heart.
Beatrice scrunched her face in the most dramatic display of reluctance and forced herself to confront her own state.
A single word from Clyde sent heat rushing through her. His gaze, she noted with eerie precision, never escaped her notice.
She couldn’t simply brush off even his smallest jest, and there were these odd moments during conversation when her spirits would inexplicably soar.
All of it pointed to one and only one conclusion.
“…God, I think I’m in love with him.”
The brief, unvarnished admission that slipped from her lips struck her with the force of a blow.
Rather than elation, she stood dazed, staring blankly into empty air as though she’d been betrayed—until, without meaning to, words tumbled out.
“God, I really am insane! How is this even possible?”
Once she acknowledged it, it became even harder to believe.
‘Who am I?’
The youngest daughter of a wealthy family wanting for nothing, good-natured, beautiful, and successful—Beatrice Hartwell, that’s who!
‘And this me, falling for Clyde Dalton? A man with nothing but a handsome facade? It makes absolutely no sense!’
The thought was full of fabrication and prejudice, but it didn’t matter. This was a privilege of childhood friendship.
‘Look—I’ve only said the word “love” and already I have goosebumps on my arms!’
After bouncing about on her feet for a moment, Beatrice composed herself and began deliberately recalling Clyde’s most pathetic moments.
More precisely, all those instances since becoming his friend when she’d found him contemptible, been disgusted by him, or struck him in anger.
‘What else was there…’
Ah yes.
‘The way he’d admire his own reflection in the mirror, turning his face this way and that, marveling at how handsome he was. That was utterly unbearable.’
When he’d dressed up as Princess Elodie to tease Kaylen, she’d found him pathetic—squeezing himself into a dress that didn’t fit his frame at all.
‘When else…?’
It had been when they were both much younger.
He’d insisted he could climb a fence far taller than himself, so she’d laughed at him—and then he’d torn his trousers and burst into tears.
‘…The more I list them out, the worse it gets.’
Doesn’t love require some illusion, some fantasy between two people?
Shouldn’t the other person seem like the finest, most perfect being in the entire world? Like there’s some kind of halo shining behind their face…
‘Actually, scratch that last part. He’s handsome enough that a halo follows him around anyway.’
In any case! Love requires that sort of thing, doesn’t it?
Not this—where she’d witnessed every unseemly, pathetic version of him, and then suddenly been struck as though by a carriage accident!
After flailing about on her feet, Beatrice pressed a hand to her chest and let out a miserable whimper.
“…This is so infuriating…”
No matter how many humiliating or ruined versions of him she recalled, memories of how good it had felt simply to be with Clyde Dalton came rushing back alongside them.
The way little Clyde had extended his finger to ask if they could be friends after she’d given him candy while he was crying.
How she’d done his makeup to help him, participated in his pranks, and fled together from Kaylen—those treasured moments.
Instances like when she and his sister Dalia had cursed him together for his vanity, only to instantly revere him as a god of beauty the moment he dangled the Limited Edition Dessert before them.
She had to acknowledge it.
Whether this affection had bloomed because he was the ‘one on my side’ she’d found after enduring the extremity of Regression, or whether it was an emotion that had sprouted naturally without her knowing…
‘I’ve fallen in love with Clyde Dalton.’
…Which meant the only question remaining was how to handle it.
‘Should I confess to Clyde?’
But what if doing so made things awkward and uncomfortable between them?
Of course, time heals many things.
By the time Cassian came to the Capital, just as he’d asked to be friends again, so too would her relationship with Clyde naturally recover.
Yet the two of them now were different from her situation with Cassian, weren’t they?
Unlike Cassian, who could sort out his feelings without seeing her, the two of them had to maintain a pretend marriage.
‘In front of others, we have to hold hands and say embarrassing things. If things become strained between us…’
That was something she wanted to avoid at all costs.
Love was precious, but she didn’t want it to ruin everything.
The alliance the two of them had formed was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, won through the impossible phenomenon of Regression.
‘And beyond everything else, even if I admit I like him, that’s still a problem.’
Yes, she’d come to like Clyde. She admits that, but…
The idea of actually holding his hand, kissing him, whispering affections the way others did—it simply wouldn’t form in her mind.
‘…Me kissing Clyde? Like Princess Elodie and Kaylen do?’
No. It wouldn’t be easy.
Once she’d thought it through, the conclusion came surprisingly quickly.
“Let’s just… leave it for now.”
And observe how the situation unfolds.
After all, once a phenomenon occurs, it inevitably shapes things in some form—whether through emotion or circumstance.
And there’s a vast difference between knowing what ‘phenomenon’ might happen and being ignorant of it…
‘At least I know about this now. That counts for something, doesn’t it?’
Besides, if she ever needed to confess to Clyde, now wasn’t the time for soft words like ‘I like you.’
‘When I tell him, I need to share what I experienced in the past and openly discuss the time before Regression—the way he trusted me enough to open up.’
Just as Clyde had finally confided in her, she would do the same.
Soon, the two of them would have to face Princess Elodie.
‘…I’m a bit nervous.’
Beatrice imagined his reaction when she revealed her story.
‘He’ll probably be angry like he was with Valois and Kaylen.’
Though it was strange to admit, the thought of him growing cold and furious on behalf of her past self—the version who couldn’t do anything—brought her something close to joy.
Beatrice pictured herself grasping his hand and shaking it as he raged, then quickly shook her head.
Love, she thought, truly makes people behave in the strangest ways.
Never imagining that when that moment came, she herself would freeze entirely, unable to move.

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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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