Acidity of Regret Ch 23
- Dec 22, 2025
- 7 min read
The wedding preparations began while the world was still draped in early morning shadows.
Perhaps because she had grown accustomed to a life of languid solitude, Vanessa had to be practically guided into the bath in a state of half-slumber.
The warmth of the water was a siren song luring her back to sleep, but the maids’ touch—brisk and borderline frosty—snapped her awake.
She had no more desire for their assistance than they had to give it, but since she couldn't prepare herself, she endured their silent ministrations.
Once she emerged from the bath, the true transformation began.
Vanessa’s role was simple: she sat before the vanity like a porcelain doll.
A flurry of hands moved across her face.
Initially, the maids worked with a mechanical sense of duty, but as her beauty began to bloom under their brushes, they grew increasingly meticulous, almost as if they were seeking vicarious satisfaction from the masterpiece they were creating.
She was striking even with a bare face, but with the addition of color, the result was nothing short of transcendent.
The maids found themselves entranced, shaking themselves back to reality only to lose their focus a moment later.
Finally, it was time to wear the wedding dress she had spent a month admiring from afar.
[Maid] "Oh, my..."
[Maid] "How is this even..."
Even the maids, who had never offered a kind word, couldn't suppress their gasps.
Vanessa stood before the full-length mirror to inspect herself.
The silk draped over her pale skin whispered of its exorbitant cost, exuding an aura of refined elegance.
In the reflection, she saw the maids' eyes glittering behind her.
The moment their gazes met hers in the glass, they hastily bowed, clasping their hands. It was as if they had only just realized that this woman was truly becoming the Mistress of the Grand Duchy.
Vanessa considered trying to bridge the gap with a kind word, then thought better of it.
They were the type to act submissive now only to plunge a knife into her back the moment she turned around.
The echoes of their hushed, vitriolic whispers she had overheard in the corridors still rang in her ears.
[Butler] "It is time to depart, Your Grace."
The butler appeared, signaling that the hour had arrived.
The ceremony was to be held in the chapel within the castle walls, presided over by a High Priest from the Duchy’s temple.
Accompanied by her attendants, she navigated the path to the chapel with hesitant steps.
In place of guests, the pews were overflowing with pale pink blossoms. Their sweet fragrance saturated the air, creating the illusion of standing in a sun-drenched garden.
She stood at the edge of the long crimson runner and looked straight ahead.
There, at the far end, stood Declan.
They had shared a bedroom for months; there should have been no reason for nerves.
Yet, strangely, he looked like a stranger today. Or perhaps it was the weight of the word 'husband' that made him seem so new.
Declan wore a black tailcoat that stood in stark contrast to her ivory gown.
Seeing him, her mind drifted back to their first meeting.
The chance encounter on the balcony. His presence had seeped into her life as naturally as a lingering scent.
The soft pressure of their first kiss. A rush of excitement, as if they had been lovers for a lifetime, surged through her.
Declan reached out his hand, his gesture bordering on impatient, urging her to his side.
Vanessa clutched the heavy folds of her dress and took her first steps toward him.
The crimson runner was short, yet every step toward the altar felt like an odyssey.
Finally, she stood before him and took his hand. It was large and warm, offering an immediate sense of sanctuary.
The ceremony itself was incredibly brief.
Under the High Priest's guidance, they recited their vows, exchanged rings, and received a blessing.
For a union born of such long anticipation, it was remarkably simple.
Vanessa gazed down at the band on her ring finger. The small, embedded diamond sparkled with a clear, ethereal light. Declan leaned down and pressed his lips to the ring.
[Declan] "You are finally my wife, Vanessa."
A faint, predatory satisfaction played at the corners of his mouth.
The ceremony concluded without a hitch.
Vanessa was now, legally and completely, Declan’s wife. However, there was no time to savor the moment. The reception was looming.
She felt as if she were moving through a dream during the transition.
As she changed out of her wedding dress, her face was a mask of mounting anxiety.
She glanced out the window and saw a line of carriages snaking toward the castle, as if they had been lying in wait for the reception to begin.
The slight nausea she had felt earlier intensified into a violent roil. She could almost see the trials awaiting her just beyond the door.
The time finally came to reveal herself.
Now dressed in an evening gown, she walked with Declan toward the Great Hall.
Standing before doors three times her height, Vanessa took a deep, stabilizing breath.
At that moment, Declan reached out and hooked her arm through his.
It was a simple touch, yet it infused her with a sudden, fierce resolve. She felt as if she could withstand any storm as long as she was anchored to him.
This was why she had agreed to this. She believed that with him as her husband, she could endure anything.
[Declan] "Let’s go in."
As soon as he spoke, the heavy doors groaned open.
Vanessa’s jaw felt as if it might lock from the strain of her forced smile.
She had lost count of how many strangers she had greeted since entering the hall.
The attention was more intense and persistent than anything she had ever experienced as 'Vanessa Rohawk.'
She stole a glance at Declan; he was navigating the crowd with effortless perfection, his composure unchanged.
Hoping for a moment of respite, she raised her glass to her lips. As the fragrant wine parched her throat, a thousand needle-like gazes pricked at her skin.
It was suffocating. Like a caged animal on display, she was trapped in a cage of eyes, barely holding her ground.
Snippets of conversation regarding her 'face' or 'beauty' drifted through the air. Each time, she flinched, remembering the maids’ mocking laughter.
They probably think I seduced Declan with nothing but my face to get here.
The poisonous thought refused to leave her.
[Winston] "Grand Duke! My, what a glorious occasion!"
Her attention shifted at the sound of a boisterous voice.
A man with a curled mustache and a belly that threatened to burst his seams approached Declan, offering a hand.
[Declan] "It has been a long time, Baron Winston."
[Winston] "My sincerest congratulations on your marriage!"
Baron Winston’s eyes shone with the honor of speaking to Declan. He bowed repeatedly, even during the handshake, his posture radiating a nervous, sycophantic energy.
Eventually, his gaze drifted naturally to the woman at the Grand Duke’s side.
[Winston] "And this must be..."
Vanessa felt a sense of déjà vu as she looked at Baron Winston. Carter, Declan’s aide, had worn this exact expression. Even before Carter, men across the capital had worn this look whenever a gala was held.
[Winston] "A pleasure to meet you, Grand Duchess. I am Byron Winston."
Vanessa offered a slight nod and a thin smile. This man was better than most; at least he didn't radiate blatant contempt.
Since they had entered, most of those who approached to congratulate Declan couldn't hide their disdain for Vanessa.
Traitor of the Ingzella Empire.
Though their eyes were clear, the words seemed to hover in the air between them.
They held their tongues only because she was now the Grand Duchess, but they couldn't hide the judgment in their eyes.
[Winston] "I wished to witness the ceremony with my own eyes. It’s a tragedy I missed it."
He wiped away beads of sweat, his disappointment palpable. Declan smirked and pulled Vanessa closer by the waist.
[Declan] "A wedding is for the couple. As long as we are satisfied, the details hardly matter."
Every time Declan made such a public display of their union, Vanessa felt the room shiver with a fresh wave of whispers.
Declan either didn't notice or was masterfully pretending not to; he continued to play the role of the devoted husband with a sly confidence.
[Winston] "Of course, of course! But the loss is ours. Ah, I’ve prepared a gift for this auspicious day."
[Declan] "Deliver it to the butler. I’ve already lost count of the tributes that have arrived; I can hardly inspect them all myself."
Baron Winston’s face fell when his grand gesture was blocked, and he began to fidget like a dog denied a treat.
But he couldn't monopolize the Grand Duke any longer. A line of nobles waiting for their turn stretched behind him.
Vanessa watched the next wave of people surge forward with a sense of weary resignation.
With every guest she faced, a new layer of exhaustion settled over her.
Her jewelry felt heavy, her dress was cumbersome, and her heels were beginning to bite into her feet. If she weren't the guest of honor, she would have fled the hall long ago.
As she scanned the room, her gaze snagged on a young lady staring at her with terrifying intensity.
Many were watching her, but this girl stood out because of the pure, unadulterated hostility in her eyes.
Her gaze was as sharp as a honed blade, yet paradoxically fragile—her eyes were brimming with tears, as if the slightest touch would cause them to shatter.
Why is she looking at me like that?
Vanessa studied her, wondering if it was someone she knew.
The girl had lovely brown hair pulled half-up and a youthful face.
Then, Vanessa noticed her hands; she was clutching her skirt so tightly her knuckles were bleached white.
There was no familiarity in her face. This was a stranger.
Yet the hostility she radiated was too potent to ignore. It wasn't the mere disdain the others showed; it was the look of someone who had lost something precious and blamed Vanessa for the theft.
The girl’s gaze shifted slowly. Even from across the room, Vanessa realized she was staring at her hand.
There was nothing special there—save for the ring on her finger. The matching band adorned Declan’s hand as well.
The girl’s eyes narrowed, turning savage.
She took a breath so deep her shoulders shook, then reached for a glass on a nearby table.
Then, with her eyes fixed on Vanessa, she began to move toward her.
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