If I Were Reborn, I Wouldn’t Marry You - Chapter 134

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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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Chapter 134
“Really?”
At my silent question, Leonhardt nodded firmly.
I beamed at Leonhardt.
Yet I couldn’t shake an uneasy feeling in the corner of my heart.
‘Well, it couldn’t be helped. There were reasons we hadn’t been able to become engaged until now.’
My family had approved, but Leonhardt’s family was the problem.
The Empress Dowager hadn’t opposed it, and the Empress showed no interest whatsoever, but the Emperor had subtly begun to object.
The union of Roderick and Leonhardt was indeed a burden for both Prince and the Emperor.
If the Emperor had opposed it outright, my doting parents would have risen up in protest—but his subtle delays meant we’d reached this point without resolution.
The Emperor kept saying, “I support Miela and Leonhardt’s engagement, but aren’t the children still young?” and postponed it again and again.
‘Truth be told, my family was also satisfied with the current situation.’
Even I thought the engagement ceremony was merely a formality.
The purpose of announcing the engagement was to dampen Prince’s wedding, and we’d achieved that goal successfully.
Time had passed that way, and now we were here.
‘It’s about time to move forward.’
I was pondering how to persuade the Emperor when our order arrived.
“Your dark beer, smoked sausage, and fries.”
Though the ingredients were simple and the plating uninspired, it still looked warm and appetizing, as if freshly made by the establishment.
“Wow.”
The mercenaries’ menu I’d only seen in novels was now spread before me.
I let out a small cheer.
Leonhardt chuckled softly and raised his glass toward me.
It was a toast.
“Cheers!”
I lifted the weighty glass with vigor, clinked it against his, and took a sip of the dark beer.
Unlike wine, it had a flavor that felt somehow round and heavy, but it wasn’t unpleasant.
Satisfied, I raised my eyebrows slightly and dipped a french fry into the establishment’s special sauce.
The bitter aftertaste of the dark beer was enveloped by the rich, savory greasiness of the fries.
“Delicious!”
After that single exclamation, I gulped down more dark beer and only set the large glass down after draining nearly half of it.
For Leonhardt, who rarely drank anything beyond aperitifs or dessert wines, this was quite a spectacle.
I caught him watching with wide eyes, gave him a thumbs up, and he laughed awkwardly before asking.
“You like it that much?”
“I do!”
My eyes sparkled as I nodded, and Leonhardt shook his head with a helpless smile.
“You’re only having one glass.”
Even as he said this, he held up a finger, seeking my promise.
“Just this one?”
Though the glass was exaggerated—nearly the size of my face—I felt a little disappointed.
I inherited Father’s strong constitution when it came to alcohol, so I typically stopped eating because I was full rather than because I was drunk.
Even this beer seemed to have a considerably low alcohol content.
“One more glass wouldn’t hurt, would it?”
As I subtly probed, Leonhardt chuckled and issued a warning.
“I’m telling Mother.”
“Tch.”
Before my regression, I was a drinker, and the moment I came of age and the restrictions on alcohol were lifted, I immediately reached for wine.
‘And I overlooked the fact that alcohol tolerance increases the more you drink.’
I drank as much as my pre-regression tolerance allowed and ended up spectacularly intoxicated.
My family, witnessing this, worried I might become an alcoholic.
From my perspective, it was just a failed attempt to properly indulge after over a decade of abstinence, but…
From my family’s point of view, it looked like the newly-adult youngest child recklessly guzzling alcohol without restraint.
Now that I’d found the intersection point where my physical and mental tolerance aligned, Mother’s concerns still hadn’t ceased.
Whenever I attended parties with Leonhardt, she would always entreat him as if to say, “Keep an eye on me.”
“Please watch over Miela carefully.”
“Understood.”
And this surveillance duty had continued even after Leonhardt returned two years later.
“One mistake and I’ll be labeled with this tag for life.”
As I sighed heavily, Leonhardt brushed back my fallen bangs and laughed.
“Surely not.”
“Mother’s memory is incredible.”
As I pouted and grumbled, Leonhardt laughed and countered.
“Then just drink a little. It’s not like I’m forbidding you from drinking.”
…Insufficient.
Whimper.
After sipping away until the glass was nearly empty, I gazed at Leonhardt with the pleading eyes of a cat in boots, but it didn’t work at all.
“You have a schedule starting tomorrow morning anyway.”
Then, as if in place of beer, he cut smoked sausage into bite-sized pieces, speared one with a fork, and offered it to me.
“Have some appetizers instead.”
It looked like he was only offering the fork, but I grabbed Leonhardt’s hand instead.
Then, like a hawk snatching its prey, I snatched the sausage away.
It was a childish act of spite.
The moment I bit down, the perfectly salty flavor and savory meat juices spread across my palate.
“This is delicious too.”
Spite is spite, but delicious is delicious.
As I chewed the sausage earnestly and offered my assessment, Leonhardt smiled faintly.
“Want more?”
Glancing alternately between my completely empty glass and Leonhardt’s glass, which had only a single sip missing, I shook my head dejectedly.
“No, if I eat more, I’ll want to drink beer again.”
I gazed at Leonhardt’s beer glass with sorrowful eyes.
Leonhardt, unable to resist any further, made a soothing proposal.
“Then just this much, and that’s it.”
“Okay!”
I nodded eagerly in response.
Leonhardt passed me his beer glass, and true to my word, I drank exactly two glasses minus one sip and felt satisfied.
However, there was one more thing I had overlooked.
Until now, I had only ever drunk wine and champagne, and I hadn’t considered that some people experience hangovers from specific types of alcohol.

* * *
Pleasantly intoxicated, I returned to my room and fell asleep.
After a deep sleep, I woke when the maids roused me.
“Ugh, my stomach…”
It was the most intense hangover I had ever experienced in my life.
My head throbbed and my stomach churned.
Clutching a soft pillow and curling up like a shrimp while groaning, Anna approached me with concern and handed me tomato juice.
“Thank you.”
I gulped down the tomato juice.
I felt slightly better.
As I handed the empty glass back to Anna, she asked carefully.
“Are you certain you’ll be alright? Shall I send word that you cannot attend this morning’s schedule due to unavoidable circumstances?”
It was an extremely tempting proposition.
But I shook my head with difficulty.
“No, I can’t skip today’s schedule.”
The public relations campaign to suppress the false rumors Prince had spread was still ongoing.
Though we held the advantageous position, we still lacked that one crucial blow to seal the victory.
So this was not the time to be complacent.
Especially since today’s gathering would be quite large, with young nobles from the Capital my age participating in a boat excursion together.
Only after drinking another glass of tomato juice did I manage to rise from bed and complete my preparations with effort.
As my escort for the paired invitation, Leonhardt arrived and asked with concern.
“Your face looks gaunt. Are you ill?”
He looked as though I had contracted some serious illness.
I forced a smile and whispered.
“A hangover.”
Leonhardt’s expression of concern shifted to one of disbelief.
As I laughed sheepishly at the embarrassment, Leonhardt sighed audibly.
Thus I arrived at the Lakeside with a face slightly more haggard than usual.
“Welcome. Your Highness the Prince, Lady Roderick.”
The acquaintances who had arrived earlier greeted us.
They subtly examined my face, and it seemed the maids’ makeup skills could not entirely conceal my exhaustion.
Too embarrassed to admit to a hangover even to acquaintances, let alone to Leonhardt, I averted my eyes and offered an excuse.
“I haven’t been feeling well lately.”
“Oh my….”
An ambiguous exclamation escaped her lips.
Oh no.
If I claimed to be ill again so soon after emerging from my seclusion, rumors of my being bedridden would surely spread.
I hastily added a clarification.
“It should pass in a little while.”
Once the alcohol wears off completely.
“Thank goodness.”
Having thus assuaged her concerns, I boarded the boat and settled into an appropriate seat.
“Ugh.”
Alarmed eyes fixed upon me.
…I swear it was merely the combination of a hangover and seasickness.

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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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