Acidity of Regret Ch 57
- Jan 14
- 8 min read
Helia bit her lip as if chewing over Vanessa’s words. Her small head seemed busy, frantically checking if there was any logic to what she had just heard.
[Vanessa] "You are a guest of the Grand Duke, are you not?"
When she asked, watching her closely, Helia’s eyes snapped up in surprise. She caught a fleeting glimpse of anxiety in her gaze. It seemed Helia was suddenly afraid she might be scolded for her earlier discourtesy—approaching a stranger so abruptly and prying with such relentless questions, all blinded by her own heart.
She offered a gentle smile, signaling that there was no cause for concern.
[Vanessa] "I think you two look quite good together."
[Helia] "...Pardon?"
[Vanessa] "The Grand Duke and yourself, I mean."
Helia’s naivety revealed itself in that moment. As soon as she heard Vanessa’s words, her cheeks flushed a bright, unmistakable crimson.
[Helia] "Do you... Do you think so?"
Remarkably, with those few words, the hostility and jealousy that had clouded her eyes began to thaw. It was as if spring had suddenly descended upon a frozen heart.
Her consistent, transparent honesty was almost endearing. Having once been someone equally swayed by the whims of love, Vanessa found she couldn't bring herself to harbor any real ill will toward Helia.
How am I any different from this woman?
Knowing that love was a force that rarely obeyed one’s own desires, she couldn't find it in her heart to blame her.
But that’s as far as it goes.
Understanding her didn't mean Vanessa forgave the torment Helia had put her through in the past. While a blunt nature was better than a deceitful one, it didn't mean she had to like her. Despite the polite smile on her lips, her inner thoughts remained as cold as ice.
[Vanessa] "Yes, very much so."
With that, she brought the conversation to a polite but firm close.
[Vanessa] "In any case, it’s about to begin."
With perfect timing, the blare of trumpets signaling the start of the tournament echoed across the vast grounds.
The opening ceremony commenced.
It followed the traditional order: a speech from the Emperor to boost morale, a blessing from the High Priest, and finally, the procession of the participants.
As the formal steps concluded, it was finally time for the competitors to reveal themselves. They were to ride their horses around the perimeter of the arena once before returning to their designated waiting areas.
The gates beneath the spectator stands swung open, and Hayden was the first to emerge.
"Waaaaah!"
As soon as he appeared, a thunderous roar of cheers shook the arena.
A ruler might wield absolute power, but winning the genuine affection of the masses was a far more difficult feat. Yet, the reaction was intense. It was a moment that made one actually realize just how much Hayden was loved by all. Behind him, the knights of the Empire followed in a disciplined line.
Following the Imperial procession, the participants from the Grand Duchy immediately trailed behind. Their attire stood in stark contrast to the white and gold-trimmed uniforms of the Imperial knights.
The Duchy's knights mostly rode black horses, and the man at their head wore a pitch-black formal uniform—so dark that even a spray of blood would leave no trace. It was Declan Vinkart.
Even as she tried to ignore him, Vanessa felt her every sense gravitating toward him. As if sensing her gaze, Declan looked toward her without a single moment of hesitation. Even across the vast distance, their eyes met in a straight, unwavering line.
[Hayden] "You came, Vanessa."
She was the one to break eye contact first, albeit unintentionally. Hayden had already guided his horse toward her.
[Vanessa] "You did ask me to come, after all."
As she whispered her reply, Hayden pulled her hand toward him, a broad smile lighting up his face. The way he pressed his lips to the back of her hand looked almost sacred, like an act of worship before a deity. She wasn't the only one who felt the weight of it; gasps ripple through the surrounding crowd.
The reaction was so vivid that, even though she had expected it, a cold sweat broke out down her back. This was the moment their private, whispered relationship was undeniably thrust into the public eye.
[Vanessa] "...Please, do not get hurt."
Hayden gave her a confident smile and pulled on his reins.
She was watching his retreating figure when a sudden whinny broke the air. Her gaze naturally turned toward the sound.
There... stood Declan, who had approached within arm's reach before she realized it.
He looked at her, then shifted his gaze to her hand resting on her lap. His dark, sunken eyes swept over her like a passing wind.
Unlike Hayden, he did not stop.
The rhythmic thud-thud of hoofbeats hitting the earth followed as Declan moved past.
Yet, for some reason, that fleeting glance felt heavier and lingering than even Hayden’s public kiss.
This was her third time attending the Grand Tournament.
She barely remembered the first as she had been a small child, but she held a faint memory of the second. She had been utterly captivated by the disciplined movements of the knights, their silver blades flashing as they parried and lunged. She had assumed this time would be no different.
However, the feverish anticipation that had gripped the Empire for days was no exaggeration.
Another victory.
Even before the tournament officially began, a lighthearted wager had circulated among the nobles: would the champion emerge from the Empire or the Grand Duchy?
While the tournament was strictly an individual competition, the presence of the Grand Duchy made it impossible to ignore the sense of a collective rivalry. While most claimed the Empire would obviously win, an odd atmosphere suggested many believed the opposite.
In an age where military power defined a nation’s strength, the Imperial Army had been refined and trained for years. With their own unique swordsmanship styles, they were not easily outmatched. However, it had been ages since the Empire had seen an actual war. Consequently, there was an inevitable gap in real-world experience.
It wasn't that the Imperial knights were lacking; it was simply that the Duchy's forces were superior, having honed their skills in life-or-death struggles against monsters. While the Imperial level was suited for man-to-man combat, the Duchy's knights fought with a chilling momentum, as if they were facing a mortal enemy whose breath had to be extinguished.
As a result, three Imperial knights had already been eliminated.
The state of the defeated was so gruesome that it was difficult to watch. A cold silence would occasionally fall over the stands, the spectators unable to even swallow. Yet, once the referee made his call, they would erupt into cheers as if nothing had happened. They were all enjoying a tournament that was bloodier and more savage than ever before.
[Elliot] "Are you alright, My Lady?"
It was then that Elliot, standing stoically behind her, asked in a low voice.
He must have seen Vanessa flinching repeatedly since the matches began. Whenever a blade came closer to skin than necessary, her body would shudder instinctively. If blood was drawn, she squeezed her eyes shut.
She hadn't always been like this. This was... a symptom caused by Declan. Because he had forced her to witness the execution of her loved ones. Even though the person at the end of the sword was a stranger, her blood ran cold, and a chill settled in her bones.
[Vanessa] "Yes... I’m fine."
In truth, she was not. But she intended to endure until Hayden’s turn. How hollow would it be for him to step into the arena only to find her seat empty? Considering all his sincerity and affection, she didn't want to disappoint him.
Not long after she answered Elliot, another Imperial knight was sent sprawling. This time, the victor was Shiron, a knight who held Declan’s absolute trust. Shiron was the person she feared and loathed most after Declan himself. The memory of him beheading Elliot was as vivid as if it had happened yesterday.
Vanessa stared at the Imperial knight who lay collapsed on the ground, unable to rise. The thought that it could have been Elliot made her feel as though she might faint. She was profoundly relieved she had stopped him.
Shiron handed the winner’s rose to a maid with a basket as if discarding trash and turned away. His indifferent attitude made it clear he had no interest in the romantic custom.
The matches proceeded quickly.
The spectators, who were initially thrilled by the overwhelming gap in skill, began to lose interest. It felt dull because the competition was too one-sided. Everyone had already realized the terrifying power of the Grand Duchy.
Just as the heated atmosphere began to cool—
"It’s the Grand Duke of Vinkart."
A man appeared whose mere presence seemed to crush the surrounding air. Today, his black hair was left natural, swaying in the wind.
The sight of him in full uniform, drawing his sharp blade, was quite foreign to her. Yet, that aura of cruelty was exactly as she remembered. Declan had always been vicious and heartless toward her.
The wandering attention of the crowd snapped back to the arena instantly. The ruler of the Duchy, the master of the knights who had dominated the field. The anticipation of seeing his skill firsthand reignited the atmosphere.
His opponent was a knight of similar build. While Declan stood perfectly still, the opposing knight roared and swung his arms, creating a threatening display.
The duel began in the blink of an eye.
The knight lunged at Declan with the speed of an arrow. Judging by his nimble movements despite his size, he seemed more skilled than the previous participants. The distance between the two men closed in an instant.
Until that moment, Declan stood as still as a stone statue. He didn't even take a defensive stance. Vanessa found herself swallowing hard over and over.
The knight swung his sword with a thunderous shout. The blade flashed as it reflected the sunlight. Vanessa reflexively looked away.
A moment later, a heavy thump echoed—the sound of someone falling.
[Vanessa] "..."
When she cautiously raised her eyes, she saw the knight who had charged so confidently lying at Declan’s feet. He didn't move an inch, appearing to be completely unconscious. It seemed Declan had delivered a single blow... but there was no blood on the fallen man.
[Elliot] "He struck the back of the neck with the hilt of his sword to knock him unconscious."
Elliot, guarding her from behind, explained quietly, perhaps sensing her confusion.
Vanessa looked around. The air felt strangely heavy; everyone else was staring with wide eyes, as if they, too, couldn't quite grasp what had just happened.
In the midst of the silence, the referee approached to check the fallen knight’s condition and declared Declan the winner. Only then did the crowd begin to murmur in dazed admiration. The match had ended so easily that it felt too brief for a proper cheer.
In the awkward atmosphere, a maid waiting on the side hurried toward him. She held a basket filled with roses. Declan looked at them with a face that was far too indifferent for a winner.
The maid, seeing that he had no intention of taking a rose, offered one to him herself.
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