If I Were Reborn, I Wouldn’t Marry You - Chapter 144

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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 144
“I understand your position for now, but recovery comes first. Rest.”
The Young Servant trembled with a different intensity than before, unable to contain the surge of indignation and resentment welling up inside.
Such sudden emotional upheaval could only harm a critically ill patient, so I decided to end the conversation here.
“Roderick will be the safest place for you. Don’t worry.”
After soothing the Young Servant, who remained guarded like a young herbivore freshly escaped from a predator, I had the Physician administer a sleeping draught.
The Young Servant fell asleep almost instantly, as if depleted of strength, and Leonhardt and I left the room.
The room Leonhardt had used before moving his residence to the Imperial Palace remained unchanged.
We chose that room to avoid prying eyes and sat facing each other at the table.
“The Crown Princess of Tervan won’t arrive for another month, and it feels like an eternity.”
As I grew impatient counting the remaining days until Prince’s arrival, Leonhardt gently patted the back of my hand.
“A month will pass quickly. Let’s wait just a little longer.”
“You’re right.”
The Spirit’s Mirror had already been completed days ago.
But timing was crucial to completely break someone as tenacious as Prince.
Grand Duke Orkian was, after all, a person from a foreign nation—one we had been waging fierce war against until recently.
‘And the very justification for that war was that Grand Duke Orkian had been murdered in the Empire. If the culprit turns out to be the Crown Prince, Tervan will never let this slide.’
Given the gravity of the matter, I couldn’t guarantee that punishment would be unavoidable, nor could I be certain that no faction would attempt to suppress it for the Empire’s dignity.
But Prince was like a deeply infected wound.
To heal completely, the only way was to excise the corruption cleanly.
‘Even if it damages the Empire’s reputation, it’s best to dispose of this properly all at once.’
That’s why we had set the D-day for after the Crown Princess of Tervan arrived.
Yet even in those few months—not a long time at all—Prince continued to cause trouble.
‘At this rate, I can’t just sit idle until the Crown Princess of Tervan arrives.’
Since the Empire maintained a rigidly hierarchical social system, Prince’s private punishment of people from the Crown Prince’s Palace wasn’t particularly condemnable.
Especially not when it was clear he had destroyed evidence of false accusations.
With multiple people dying this way, the best he could hope for was a reprimand for excessive severity.
“It’s better to tie his hands for a while at least.”
At minimum, it would prevent more victims.
Still, the Young Servant’s decision to testify—having nearly died at Prince’s hands yet miraculously survived—was tremendously helpful to us.
The Emperor was quite emotional; he couldn’t simply overlook a victim’s plea made before his eyes.
Well, since he was lenient with Prince too, a one-month confinement order would probably just extend to two months.
Even that much time was sufficient.
After discussion, the Young Servant’s testimony was scheduled for two weeks later.
It was a conclusion calculated to allow minimal recovery while striking at the most effective moment for appeal.
A hunting tournament Prince had spent months preparing would be held two weeks from now.
A person with a conscience as ambiguous as the Emperor needs the watchful eyes of others to keep them honest.
‘And this timing carries the resentment of my debutante.’
I clenched my fist, pouring my hatred into it.

* * *
Time passed, and the day of the hunting competition finally arrived.
Leonhardt came to Duke Roderick’s Mansion at the crack of dawn to escort me, his eyes crinkling with an eager, delighted smile.
“Miela. Did you sleep well last night?”
As he spoke, he subtly rolled his eyes, his gaze drifting toward my hands and my bag.
This was far more than mere concern about my waking early for the morning hunt.
His expectation was written plainly across his face.
It was touching to see him now so confidently assert what was his.
Quite endearing, really.
“No, I didn’t sleep well.”
I smiled back at him and produced a handkerchief I had carefully folded, handing it over.
I had overlooked that this was not merely a day to humiliate Prince, but an actual ‘hunting competition,’ and so I had stayed up late last night hastily embroidering the handkerchief.
Perhaps thirty minutes later than usual?
Though I had only embroidered his initials to show sincerity, Leonhardt was overjoyed.
“Thank you.”
“Anyone watching would think I’m a lover who never does anything like this for you.”
Feeling embarrassed and flustered, I grumbled without thinking, and Leonhardt carefully tucked the handkerchief into his breast pocket as he countered.
“That’s not true. You’ve made me forty-three handkerchiefs.”
The specificity of that number—forty-three—struck me as remarkably precise.
The thought that he had actually counted them all made me blush even deeper.
“Hmm.”
I resolved silently to make something more impressive next time, then extended my hand to Leonhardt.
He took my hand with familiar ease, and we climbed into the carriage together, sitting across from one another.
“That young servant was supposed to leave earlier and hide in the tent assigned to you, correct?”
“Yes, he should have arrived by now.”
We exchanged light conversation as we arrived near the mountain where the hunting competition was being held.
As I was descending from the carriage with Leonhardt’s assistance, an unpleasant voice called out from a distance.
“You’re late.”
It was Prince.
He approached with a smile as though he were a kindly older brother, then launched into a needless provocation.
“But Leonhardt, you’re not planning to participate in the hunting competition, are you?”
Leonhardt was dressed properly in hunting attire that subtly revealed his muscular frame.
Though anyone with eyes could see it, Prince scanned back and forth between the carriage and Leonhardt’s face as though his attire were invisible.
He was mocking Leonhardt for arriving by carriage with me.
“It seems Your Highness would prefer I not participate. I assure you, I shall exercise restraint.”
Leonhardt, whose diplomatic skills had grown considerably, responded with fluid grace.
The hunting competition traditionally ranked participants based on the size and rarity of their kills.
Yet for all his cruelty, Prince was not particularly formidable in combat.
He spoke openly of hunting as his hobby, though that hardly meant he was skilled at it.
‘He simply craves the sight of blood and uses this as an excuse.’
Leonhardt, on the other hand, was renowned as the Empire’s youngest Sword Master.
Since the hunting tournament was restricted to adults with knightly titles, Leonhardt had gone to war the moment he came of age, making this his first participation.
Yet everyone understood.
Prince would be no match for Leonhardt.
The number of eyes watching the two of them began to multiply.
It was the time when hunting tournament participants were arriving one after another.
A subtle mockery settled in the eyes of those who had been observing our psychological warfare while pretending indifference.
It was Leonhardt’s victory by decision.
Prince, who keenly caught on to this, flashed a glint in his eyes before it faded away.
Prince still seemed to want to appear as an affectionate and gentle older brother, smiling faintly.
“I wish that were the case. How could I, who learned martial arts merely as a refinement while receiving imperial heir education, possibly defeat someone like you who has done nothing but wield a sword?”
Apparently thinking he had landed a blow, Prince turned away with an air of composure.
Naturally, Prince’s words dealt no damage to Leonhardt whatsoever.
Before the regression, he had already mastered both theory and practice, so his imperial education was far more complete than Prince’s.
When Leonhardt and I responded to Prince’s remarks with an easy scoff, those who had been watching us expectantly for some reaction quickly dispersed.
Observing one by one the backs of people who felt it was time to leave lest sparks fly, I spoke as if to make sure they heard.
“Leon, I want the golden laurel wreath.”
It meant asking him to win first place in the hunting tournament and gift me the championship prize, the golden laurel wreath.
Leonhardt answered with ease.
“Just wait half a day.”

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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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