Acidity of Regret Ch 24
- Dec 23, 2025
- 7 min read
Vanessa felt a jolt of panic.
She had been laboring under the foolish delusion that because the woman was projecting her hostility from a distance, she wouldn't actually approach. But the brown-haired lady shattered that assumption, marching toward her with predatory intent.
Click. Click.
Despite the din of the crowded ballroom, the sharp, aggressive strike of the woman's heels rang out like a warning bell in Vanessa’s ears.
There was no reason to be terrified of someone simply walking toward her. Yet, the woman bore down on her with such vindictive fury that Vanessa was certain the glass in her hand was destined to be emptied over her head.
[Vanessa] "..."
Just as the gap between Vanessa and the mysterious lady closed to a dangerous margin, someone intercepted them.
A man with broad, dependable shoulders stepped into the line of fire. He possessed the same rich brown hair as the lady, marking them as kin.
The two engaged in a muffled, frantic struggle. The lady shot a venomous glare at the man trying to restrain her, but he remained unmoved, deftly snatching the glass from her hand. He hissed something at her, his expression stern and unyielding.
The lady, who only moments ago looked ready to douse Vanessa in wine, let out a sharp huff and turned on her heel.
Before she vanished, a single, heavy tear escaped her eye and chased down her cheek. As if loathing the idea of showing even a drop of weakness to Vanessa, she quickly wiped the trace away with her silk-gloved hand.
Vanessa watched the woman’s retreating figure, only to realize the man had remained behind, watching her.
Up close, the resemblance was undeniable.
Ah, they must be siblings.
Vanessa concluded they were likely brother and sister.
The man, his brown hair shimmering under the chandeliers, cast a long, unreadable look at her. Then, with a slight tilt of his lips, he offered a curt bow.
Caught off guard, Vanessa reflexively returned the gesture.
[Declan] "What are you doing?"
Startled by his whisper, Vanessa flinched. She gave his arm a discreet tug and gestured with her eyes toward where the man stood.
Declan let out a soft grunt of recognition, clearly knowing exactly who it was.
[Vanessa] "Do you know him?"
[Declan] "He’s a close friend. Count Quasar."
A friend?
Vanessa’s eyes widened at the unexpected intimacy of the connection.
Julian—Count Quasar—offered a faint, knowing smile to Declan before turning away.
Vanessa expected him to come over and exchange formal greetings, but the Count vanished into the crowd before anyone could stop him.
Declan didn't seem particularly bothered by his friend’s abrupt exit.
As peace settled back over them, Vanessa couldn't help but think of the lady who had been quarreling with the Count.
Why had she looked at her with such animosity?
And what did those tears mean?
It was then that a thunderous announcement shattered the atmosphere.
[Herald] "His Imperial Highness, Crown Prince Hayden de Ingzella, enters!"
The herald’s cry sliced through the sweltering heat of the ballroom.
A sudden chill swept through the hall, as if a bucket of ice water had been dumped over the festivities. The room fell into a stunned silence before erupting into a fresh wave of frantic murmurs.
Regardless of the crowd's reaction, the great doors groaned open. The Crown Prince and his retinue stepped into the light.
Vanessa’s heart, which had only just begun to steady, skyrocketed once more.
She watched Hayden approach, his long strides eating up the distance.
The scene felt surreal, disconnected from reality. Yet, the memory of the cold, damp dungeon surged back, bringing with it a vivid, suffocating fear that seeped into her bones.
Declan felt the sudden, desperate grip of Vanessa’s hand on his arm. He glanced down at her. Her face had gone deathly pale at the sight of the Prince—it was pure, unadulterated terror.
Seeing her cling to him in fear of Hayden gave Declan a dark sense of satisfaction. It was a refreshing jolt of clarity after enduring a night of tedious socialites.
He pulled her closer, wrapping a possessive arm around her waist, and stared directly at Hayden as the Prince neared.
Hayden looked frayed, a far cry from his usual polished self.
His silver hair was windswept and tangled, and his travel-stained robes fluttered behind him—proof that he had ridden like a madman to reach the Duchy.
He was trying to project an air of calm, but the cracks were visible.
Hayden came to a halt exactly five paces away. His eyes darted frantically between Vanessa and Declan, as if his mind refused to process the image before him.
When his blue eyes finally landed on Declan’s hand anchored to Vanessa’s waist, the light in them died. A shadow of profound despair clouded his gaze.
Noticing the shift, Declan let his lips curl into a sharp, mocking smile.
[Declan] "Your Imperial Highness. You’ve arrived?"
The marriage had been decided three months ago, yet Declan had kept the Imperial Palace in the dark.
He had waited until a mere three days before the ceremony to send word, under the flimsy pretext of being "overwhelmed with state affairs."
The journey from the Empire to the Duchy required three days of relentless riding.
The fact that Hayden stood here on the very day of the wedding meant he had likely set out the moment he received the news, without pausing for breath.
Declan knew exactly why the Prince was so desperate.
The woman Hayden had been scouring the Empire for had suddenly resurfaced in the Duchy—as the Grand Duke’s bride. The shock must have been a bitter pill to swallow.
[Hayden] "...I received the news of your marriage quite late."
When Hayden spoke, Vanessa flinched.
His voice acted as a trigger, dragging her back to that night of persecution when she had been branded a traitor. She could still hear his voice echoing in her ears, promising to help her.
[Hayden] "I... I haven't had the chance to prepare a gift."
The Prince’s voice was hollow, devoid of any celebratory warmth. It was a low, fractured sound heavy with a tangled web of emotions.
Usually known for his gentle demeanor, he looked grim today, his face stripped of its customary smile.
In contrast, Declan laughed heartily, lacing his fingers with Vanessa’s to display their matching rings.
[Declan] "What does a gift matter when Your Highness has graced us with your presence? Your attendance at my wife’s reception is more than enough."
[Hayden] "Your... wife..."
He let out a hollow, incredulous laugh.
[Hayden] "Since when have you two been... like this? I had no idea."
[Declan] "It’s quite a long story. Perhaps too long to recount here."
Declan deflected the question with practiced ease.
Hayden, looking like a man who had lost a vital piece of his soul, found himself unable to string a sentence together, his gaze drifting repeatedly back to Vanessa.
Feeling the oppressive weight of the Prince’s stare, Vanessa clung to Declan’s arm. If he weren't there to anchor her, she feared she might collapse under the sheer pressure of the moment.
The gazes of the three individuals tangled in the heavy air.
[Noble] "Your Highness! It is an honor to have you here!"
Fortunately, members of the surrounding crowd finally worked up the courage to intervene, and the icy atmosphere began to thaw as they drew the Prince into conversation.
However, the exhaustion Vanessa felt now was incomparable to before. The presence of a royal from the capital dragged her back to her status as a sinner and resurrected the nightmare of that night.
Worst of all, Hayden had promised to save her, only to let her be dragged to a slave auction. The humiliation of that moment—the feeling that death would have been a mercy—returned as vividly as if it had happened yesterday.
If he had only given her despair from the beginning, she wouldn't have felt such profound betrayal. Vanessa hated Hayden for torturing her with that scrap of hollow hope.
Time became a blur after the Prince’s arrival. She stayed glued to Declan’s side, moving only when he moved—it was the only way she could maintain a semblance of composure.
[Vanessa] "Declan."
When the circle of nobles surrounding them finally shifted, Vanessa finally spoke.
[Vanessa] "May I go out to get some air for a moment?"
[Declan] "Of course."
The moment he answered, a bitter realization struck her: she was seeking his permission for something as trivial as taking a walk. The feeling of being "lesser" continued to bloom within her.
Vanessa bit her lip. Clutching her stomach to ease the rising nausea, she managed to slip out of the Great Hall.
The moonlight, caught between scattered clouds, illuminated the dark corners of the castle.
She walked along the stone gallery until the sound of the ballroom orchestra faded into a dull hum. Leaning against the balustrade, she finally let out a long, ragged sigh.
She had prepared herself for this to be difficult, but reality, as always, exceeded her expectations.
The judgmental eyes that had scrutinized her felt as if they were still pricking at her skin, and she rubbed her arms repeatedly to shake the feeling.
The Crown Prince...
Her thoughts inevitably circled back to the man with the brilliant silver hair.
Hayden.
Truthfully, she hadn't expected anyone from the Imperial Family to attend. She had thought Declan—who had been so considerate of her situation—would have surely struck them from the guest list.
But she immediately scolded herself for the selfish thought.
Now that the previous Grand Duke and his wife were gone, the only "family" Declan had left—however distant or political—was the Imperial bloodline. Since her own family had met a dishonorable end, Declan had no reason to exclude his own kin.
[Vanessa] "Haaa..."
She recalled the way Hayden had looked at her. His eyes were still transparent, revealing every thought. The old feelings buried within them hadn't faded with time; they had only grown heavier.
But she had Declan now. She didn't want to spare a single thought for Hayden's heart.
Now that she was bound to Declan, whatever the Prince felt was nothing more than an impurity that threatened to stain her new life.
[Hayden] "Lady Rohawk."
She had been staring awkwardly at the wedding band on her fourth finger. Though her title had changed to Grand Duchess Vinkart, 'Rohawk' was still a part of her soul, and she reflexively turned toward the voice.
She froze.
Hayden, who had been so busy entertaining guests in the hall, now stood in the shadows before her.
Recovering her senses a beat too late, she offered a formal, stiff bow.
Hayden’s lips parted again.
[Hayden] "Ah... I suppose I shouldn't call you that anymore."
Vanessa nodded.
When she offered no further reply, he fell silent. A chilling stillness settled around them.
Hayden repeatedly clenched and unclenched his fists, as if fighting a wave of nerves.
[Hayden] "I was... truly shocked to hear you were marrying Declan."
[Vanessa] "..."
[Hayden] "How did you... How did you end up here in the Duchy?"
Hayden finally asked, his voice thick with hesitation.
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