If I Were Reborn, I Wouldn’t Marry You - Chapter 139

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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 139
“Restrain yourself. This is my final warning. If the chaos caused by your continued tenure as Crown Prince exceeds that of a succession change, I am prepared to alter my decision accordingly.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
I had no idea what state of mind prompted that response.
Had the mask I’d worn for so long not operated unconsciously, I couldn’t even imagine what words might have escaped my lips.
My reason worked frantically to comprehend and analyze what the Emperor intended by such words.
‘I must leave this place at once.’
Prince knew he was deeply flustered, his composure utterly shattered.
Remaining any longer with the Emperor would only expose his vulnerabilities.
Prince maintained a composed expression, offered me a respectful bow, and returned to the Crown Prince’s Palace.
Whether it was escaping the immediate threat or arriving at the place most familiar to him—
His razor-sharp reason dulled, and his instincts were honed to a lethal edge.
‘Chaos,’ he thought.
The Emperor’s gaze—as if regarding him as vermin—lingered like an afterimage before his eyes.
His insides roiled as though he’d swallowed molten lava.
The kind of rage and fury that only bloodshed could quell.
It was a familiar sensation.
The anger he’d forcibly suppressed since the ‘unexpected incident’ weighed heavily upon him.
Prince’s eyes bloodshot with fury, his fists clenched so tightly his nails drew crescents of blood.
He could not surrender to impulse now.
It had been mere minutes since receiving the Emperor’s warning.
With his rage directed at none other than the Emperor himself, he absolutely had to endure.
Yet Prince’s half-fractured reason whispered temptation.
‘What if it weren’t possible?’
The Emperor was the only one Prince need ever defer to.
Without him—that lingering phantom—Prince would become Emperor.
He would become a wielder of absolute power.
Even the monster in the Separate Palace and the presumptuous Roderick would bow their heads beneath his feet.
The seductive impulse did not fade easily.
His vision tinged crimson.
Yet this was irrational emotion.
Reckless sentiment that would yield him nothing but ruin if exposed.
Prince was a noble destined to become the next Emperor.
He could not indulge in impulse like some vulgar commoner.
‘This will not do.’
In the end, Prince resolved to indulge in the ‘hobby’ he’d long restrained himself from pursuing.
A cold smile played across his lips, curving only at the corners.
Prince rang the bell to summon his attendants.
He had no intention of foolishly returning to the Underworld; he needed to find an easier target.

* * *
‘When on earth is he going to propose?’
Pretending not to know what I already understand while waiting is far from easy.
Especially when it’s something I’m so eagerly anticipating.
Leonhardt would be the one making the preparations, yet I found myself growing more anxious and restless than he was.
At every trivial moment, I’d wonder—is it now? My mind was practically spinning from the tension and overthinking.
Days like today, when we visited the Restaurant famous as a couples’ destination, only intensified that feeling.
“Did you rent out the entire place?”
It was a weekend afternoon, the height of the lunch rush, yet the Restaurant was completely empty of other patrons.
When I asked in confusion, Leonhardt answered casually.
“I thought it would be better to have it quiet. Do you dislike it?”
Leonhardt glanced at me hesitantly, and I smiled warmly in approval.
“No, I love it.”
Recently, Prince had been making quite a spectacle trying to suppress the unfavorable rumors he’d spread.
As a result, every time we went out, all eyes turned toward us.
‘Until now, it was what I wanted, so I endured the inconvenience.’
Now that the rumors had died down, there was no reason to bear the weight of people’s curious gazes.
“It’s beautiful.”
I looked around the Restaurant interior with satisfaction and offered my assessment.
Fresh flowers, as if just picked at dawn, complemented the antique wooden architecture perfectly.
The distant melody of stringed instruments, audible just enough not to be intrusive, was equally lovely.
Together with the tastefully decorated quiet interior, it created an emotionally evocative atmosphere.
Leonhardt smiled with satisfaction and escorted me inside.
We then took our seats facing each other at a particularly lavishly decorated table in the center of the Restaurant.
For a moment, silence fell between us.
Neither of us was particularly talkative, so quiet moments weren’t uncomfortable for us.
Yet today, this silence—which Leonhardt seemed unaware of—felt strangely awkward to me.
“…I’m hungry.”
I’d eaten breakfast late, so I wasn’t actually hungry yet.
But my mind wouldn’t stop asking, ‘Is it really today?’ and I couldn’t think of anything else to say beyond such simple remarks.
‘And I don’t want to endure this suffocating silence either.’
Fortunately, Leonhardt didn’t notice that this sudden comment was the result of my desperate effort.
“Really?”
He merely signaled the Waiter who had been waiting at a distance, and the meal was brought out immediately.
Whether it had been pre-ordered, after only a brief wait, the appetizer was served.
The first course was caprese.
I felt slightly queasy, but since I’d just said I was hungry, I picked up my fork with determination—and my eyes met Leonhardt’s, who seemed oddly tense for some reason.
‘What is it? What’s going on?’
Could it be now?
I tried my best to calm my trembling pupils.
For anyone else, the timing would have been absurd—but my counterpart was Leonhardt.
I had long since abandoned any hope that this romantic fool would deliver a proposal so touching that tears would stream down my face without my even realizing it.
‘The effort itself is what matters.’
I had resolved to accept with joy even if he merely presented a ring and bouquet in a reasonably romantic setting.
That alone would be far more romantic than his first proposal, after all.
I dragged out the moment by pretending to cut my already bite-sized caprese into even smaller pieces.
‘Now! Do it now!’
I sent the signal countless times in my heart, yet Leonhardt simply continued eating his portion at an unhurried pace.
So it wasn’t happening?
Only after the tomato had been thoroughly mashed did I admit I had jumped to conclusions far too hastily.
‘I’m so nervous that I’ve actually worked up an appetite.’
Setting aside my deflated feelings, I finished the appetizer, and the next course arrived.
My genuine hunger had awakened, and the sense that this wasn’t the moment allowed me to focus entirely on eating thereafter.
Honestly, I was rather embarrassed and needed something else to occupy my mind.
I ate with such earnestness that scarcely any casual conversation passed between us.
Though I was acutely aware of everything, our relationship was old enough that silence felt natural rather than awkward.
The meal continued in a quiet yet peaceful atmosphere.
And then, as the final course, dessert arrived.
It was a panna cotta adorned with berries and flowers of various hues.
The colorful decorations atop the pristine cream pudding evoked the image of a wedding cake.
The plate was set upon the table without a sound.
Leonhardt’s gaze, which had been fixed on me, shifted toward the panna cotta with a peculiar gleam.
Watching him gently bite his lower lip as if to calm his anxiety, I found myself thinking ‘Could it be?’ once more.
I recalled an antiquated proposal method that had been fashionable some seven thousand nine hundred years ago.
‘Hiding a ring inside the dessert.’
Even for a romantic fool, surely not—or so I thought, but my counterpart was Leonhardt.
He had once gone to work during our honeymoon on the pretext that we were heading that way anyway, and when I asked him to prepare couple rings as a first anniversary gift since it was trendy for lovers and spouses to wear matching accessories, he had transferred mining rights instead…..
‘With him, it’s entirely possible.’
Ah, even so, this seemed a bit much—yet I steeled myself.
I self-hypnotized that with this much time having passed, the trend must have cycled back into fashion.
I smiled softly and picked up the dessert spoon.
After preparing myself to react with appropriate surprise should the spoon touch any metallic object, I took a bite—
It was truly just panna cotta.
Wait, there’s nothing?
Why is there nothing?
My expression faltered at the bewilderment.
When our eyes met, and Leonhardt saw the evident confusion on my face, he flinched in surprise.
The waiter, who had been carrying a bouquet nearly as tall as a person, sensed the strange atmosphere and began backing away—a movement reflected in the wine glasses.
Only the orchestra, positioned at a distance where they could not see the situation, continued playing a sweet melody.

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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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