Acidity of Regret Ch 52
- Jan 9
- 8 min read
Vanessa wanted to sit at the end of the row, but Declan, anticipating her move, acted first.
[Declan] "The center seat offers the finest view. You should take it, My Lady. Hayden, you don't mind, do you?"
[Hayden] "Of course not."
Hayden, oblivious to Declan’s dark intentions, readily agreed.
She attempted to decline several times, but it was to no avail. It would have looked absurd to refuse a seat that they were offering so graciously. In the end, she was forced to sit between Declan and Hayden.
As soon as she took her seat, she leaned subtly toward Hayden.
[Vanessa] "Thank you for inviting me to join you today, Your Highness."
With a shy smile, she carefully brushed the back of Hayden’s hand. Even that fleeting contact caused him to stiffen. He looked at her, his eyes wide with nerves, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed hard.
Though it was too dark to see clearly, she suspected the tips of his ears were flushed a deep crimson, as they usually were. It was a modest reaction from a man who, despite his outgoing personality, was actually quite unaccustomed to such intimacy with a woman.
Vanessa pointedly ignored Declan’s presence, offering her gratitude only to Hayden. She acted as if she hadn't heard that Declan was the one who had suggested the play in the first place.
The earlier incident in the carriage had thoroughly soured her mood, and she wanted to snub him openly. She knew that, above all else, he found being ignored intolerable.
[Declan] "I was the one who made the suggestion."
[Vanessa] "..."
[Declan] "Do you have nothing to say to me?"
As if seeing right through her, his cold voice pierced the back of her head.
Hayden’s presence was a blessing and a curse; while the Prince prevented Declan from acting out, the same constraint applied to her.
She turned her head slowly. Declan’s eyes were sharper than before. At this point, it was hard to tell which of them was being more stubborn.
[Vanessa] "...Yes. My thanks to you as well, Your Grace."
She whispered in a tone so monotonous it was devoid of any soul. If it were up to her, she wouldn't have answered at all, but Hayden was right there.
Declan let out a short, knowing laugh, and then—
He suddenly reached out and seized her left wrist, which had been resting neatly on her lap. It was another bold, unwelcome touch.
[Vanessa] "!"
In front of the Prince...!
Vanessa flinched and tried to shake his hand off, but his grip was ironclad. She couldn't move her arm too violently for fear of drawing Hayden’s attention.
She quickly hid her captured hand where the Crown Prince couldn't see it, shifting her body slightly to block his view.
Declan held her wrist tightly before sliding his hand down to interlace his fingers with hers. In the blink of an eye, his thick fingers pushed intimately between hers. Her eyes wavered with panic at a contact that went far beyond a mere touch.
The theater was dark, but anyone looking closely would surely notice. She glanced to her right. Hayden was looking down at the stage with interest, waiting for the play to begin. He didn't seem to have noticed anything suspicious yet.
She glared at Declan and stomped hard on his foot. It was a silent demand for him to let go. The pain from her sharp heel must have been considerable, yet he didn't even flinch. If anything, his grip on her hand tightened.
Left with no choice, she dug her nails into the back of his hand. She didn't want to actually scratch him like a beast—especially after he had called her a cat—but she was desperate.
She pressed down hard with her fingertips, deep enough to draw blood. Yet, far from letting go, the fire in his gaze only grew more intense. His obsession was clear: no matter how much pain she inflicted, he would never release her.
[Hayden] "Ah, it looks like it's starting."
Hayden spoke cheerfully.
Vanessa, whose every nerve was focused on her hand, felt as though her heart might leap out of her chest.
She should have gotten out of the carriage the moment she saw him. She knew her ominous premonitions regarding Declan were never wrong, so why had she recklessly agreed to go with him?
[Declan] "...I chose this play specifically for you, My Lady."
Hw murmured, his eyes filled with a predatory hunger, as if he were barely restraining himself from lunging at her.
[Declan] "I do hope you enjoy the performance."
His words had never sounded more terrifying.
Fortunately, he released her hand just before the house lights came up. Though the physical contact was gone, her thundering heartbeat refused to subside.
Once she regained her composure, rage took hold. He still knew exactly how to toy with her emotions through the smallest provocations. The feeling of being manipulated was loathsome. She barely managed to suppress the anger that threatened to erupt like a volcano.
At that moment, the curtain rose on the magnificent stage.
Vanessa clutched the fabric of her skirt tightly. Since she couldn't allow her face to twist in anger, she funneled all her emotion into her hands.
On stage, a woman screamed at the top of her lungs before collapsing to the floor, her hair disheveled. The sound of her voice, steeped in despair and anguish, was chilling to the ear.
The play was a nightmare.
The plot was a destructive, tragic romance about a man who ruins a woman’s entire life just to possess her.
Technically, the play was flawless. Like most art, it radiated an intensity far removed from mundane reality. The actors' performances were superb.
The problem lay with her. Like the protagonist on stage, who thrashed on the floor and screamed in fury as if trapped in a swamp from which she could never escape, the woman seemed no different from Vanessa herself before the regression. It was horrific.
It was nothing less than a calculated attempt to forcibly awaken the trauma she was trying so hard to bury.
“I chose this play specifically for you, My Lady.”
Finally, she understood the malicious intent behind the words that had sent a chill down her spine.
The agony and sorrow she had felt just before her death surged back to life. It felt as if someone were rubbing salt into an open wound, making her chest sting with a sharp, biting pain.
The presence of the man who had brought her to that state, sitting right beside her, made it all the more unbearable.
Though she hadn't seen the end yet, she could already envision the climax. The male lead, who had hypocritically lingered by the woman’s side and made her rely on him, would eventually be revealed as the true villain behind it all.
And then, she...
The innocent protagonist...
Her stomach churned with a nauseating revulsion.
[Vanessa] "Um, Hayden."
The sickness was becoming too much to handle.
[Vanessa] "I’m feeling a bit unwell. I need to get some fresh air."
Hayden, who had been engrossed in the play, immediately turned to her with a worried expression.
[Hayden] "Are you alright? Shall I call for a physician?"
[Vanessa] "It isn't that serious."
She managed a strained smile despite her pale complexion. She fled the VIP box without even glancing at Declan. To anyone watching, it would have looked as though she were running for her life.
She headed for the balcony connected to the VIP corridor. Since the Crown Prince's guards were on duty today, her family's knights had not accompanied her. Naturally, Eliot was not there either.
She had been worried about it when she left home, but now she was glad he wasn't here. She was already exhausted; having to worry about his watchful eyes would have been taxing.
Stepping onto the balcony allowed her to breathe a little easier. It wasn't just the air; it was the distance from the tragic woman’s voice that helped.
The wretched woman on stage was a mirror of herself. Her own foolishness, wandering through the maze Declan had constructed. She had eventually found the exit, but it was only through the act of taking her own life.
She hadn't realized it while inside, but a drizzle was falling from the sky. She reached out her hand. The rain soaked into her silk gloves, making the thin, delicate fabric limp and heavy with water.
Her mood sank, mirroring the damp gloves.
She felt pathetic for being unable to break free from Declan’s influence. Despite having returned through the Goddess' grace, she felt as though she were still standing still.
More than anything, she was furious.
[Vanessa] "...!"
Suddenly sensing a presence behind her, she spun around.
Her heart hammered against her ribs. When had he followed her?
Declan’s face was inches from her own.
Recognizing his breath so close to her face, she reflexively raised her hand. His lips brushed against the back of her hand. A second later, and he would have stolen a kiss from her lips, just as he had done before.
Her eyes burned with resentment. Thinking of what he had done today made her grind her teeth. It was bad enough that he treated her like a pet, but deliberately forcing her to watch such a play was an unforgivable insult. Every word from his mouth and every touch of his hand felt like a scheme to drag her back into the mud.
[Vanessa] "...You."
She couldn't maintain even half the composure she’d had during luncheon. The image of the protagonist thrashing in pain continued to swirl in her head. The vivid memory of herself dying like a living corpse in her bedroom was too fresh.
[Vanessa] "You are despicable."
Choosing such a play. Using such devious, cowardly methods to torment her.
Just when Vanessa thought he couldn't sink any lower, he found a way to surpass himself. It was as if he were testing her patience, trying to see where her breaking point lay.
The rain made the air quite chilly, but her insides were burning with rage. She didn't want to spend another second with him. Being in the same space made her feel as though his filth were staining her black.
She refused to wallow in the abyss with him any longer. She had no intention of wasting this hard-won opportunity by falling into ruin alongside him.
Vanessa tried to shove past him to leave the balcony, but Declan, expecting her reaction, caught her by the shoulders and pinned her against the wall.
[Declan] "I know you're angry. So stop being so stubborn."
[Vanessa] "And who exactly is being stubborn here?"
[Declan] "You love me."
His voice was softer than the sound of the falling rain—brief, yet ringing with an arrogant certainty. The moment she heard it, her heart skipped a beat.
He leaned in, whispering so close that his breath brushed her ear. His voice was as dark and murky as the rainy sky.
[Declan] "You still love me, don't you?"
Lately, his words and his actions had been at odds. Even now, while his tone was full of haughty conviction, his eyes were shaking violently. He looked as though he were desperately searching for a single shred of evidence to prove his own words.
As if he were hunting for proof that she still loved him.
[Declan] "Am I wrong?"
His eyes were filled with a desperate longing for her to say yes. It was a glimpse of the vulnerability he tried so hard to hide—a weakness buried deep beneath his cruel exterior.
Any other woman might have succumbed to such a seductive whisper from such a handsome man. Vanessa couldn't deny it; she had once fallen for his deceitful acting and would have died for him.
[Vanessa] "..."
But that was over.
His vulnerability was her opportunity. If she could bring him to ruin, she would not hesitate to become the blade that pierced his heart.
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