Acidity of Regret Ch 78
- Feb 2
- 7 min read
The dark, heavy chain, which mirrored the despair hanging over her, was connected to a massive bedpost—one that wouldn't budge even if she threw her entire body weight against it.
Her eyes darted frantically as she stared at her ankle, then the bedpost, and finally at him, her gaze filled with disbelief. She knew she had to say something, but her tongue felt frozen, refusing to obey her will.
[Declan] "I don't intend to keep you chained forever."
He reached out and stroked her pale cheek. Under normal circumstances, she would have slapped his hand away fiercely, but in her current state, with goosebumps rising all over her body, even blinking felt like a monumental effort.
[Declan] "I'll release you once we're married."
His casually tossed words forcibly grabbed her mind, which had been drifting far away, and slammed it back into reality.
Marriage.
It was a word she had grown accustomed to, but it was supposed to be tied to Hayden, not him.
Why were his lips daring to utter that word?
A strange chill licked down her spine.
[Vanessa] "What... are you talking about?"
[Declan] "You will marry me. Not that bastard Hayden."
Vanessa, who had been dazed, let out a dry, hollow laugh a moment later.
[Vanessa] "...You."
He's lost his mind.
She couldn't even count how many times she had mentally sentenced him with that verdict today. Yet, without thinking that way, it was impossible to understand him who had strayed so far from the realm of sanity that it was unbearable.
From a mindset that made her wonder how anyone could think so twistedly, to the reckless execution of bringing those thoughts into reality…
Ever since she encountered him after regressing, Declan’s words and actions generally evoked the impression of madness. But today, this very moment, was the most extreme of all.
[Vanessa] "You're crazy. Unless you're insane..."
She struck away the hand caressing her cheek.
[Vanessa] "Unchain me. Right now."
[Declan] "I've booked a tailor for the day after tomorrow. And the marriage contract... it will likely take about a month to proceed without the Count's permission. I plan to prepare everything as quickly as possible, so it shouldn't take more than two months."
[Vanessa] "Declan!"
[Declan] "I told you I wouldn't stand by and watch you marry that bastard."
Suddenly, his breath was right against her face. In his eyes, now inches from hers, reason was nowhere to be found. The only forces filling his pupils were obsession and madness.
Facing him so closely, she felt a chill harden deep in her lungs, choking her breath.
[Declan] "I just have to marry you first."
As his words pierced her mind, which had been clouded with confusion just moments ago, she ironically felt a slight sense of calm. At the same time, she began to realize just how grave the situation had become.
[Declan] "Then what can that bastard do? Right?"
She looked at him with eyes slightly different from before as he tucked a strand of her disheveled blonde hair behind her ear.
It was extreme fear. Or perhaps, something closer to terror.
[Declan] "No one can take you away from me. No one."
His voice, smiling at her terrified face, seemed to leak from the very bottom of his being—from his raw instinct—making it sound utterly desperate.
Her fingertips cut through the air, pathetic and unreachable.
A breathy, precarious sound formed like dew between her lips, which she had chewed raw over the past few days, before rolling off repeatedly.
[Vanessa] "...Ha."
She tried to stretch her arm as far as possible, but she soon had to give up, unable to endure the stinging sensation of the skin tightening around her ankle. As her body registered the pain, her strength drained away, and a frown naturally creased her face.
In the end, she collapsed without even getting close to what she wanted. Clank—as she curled her body, the cold ring of the rusty chain echoed through the space.
Vanessa glared sharply straight ahead. In the direction she had been desperately reaching, a tall candlestick stood. It was a fragile weapon compared to a dagger, but right now, she was desperate to hold anything in her hand.
It was understandable...
Her gaze fell from the golden candlestick and hesitantly turned toward the bedpost.
For days, she had been pulling on the chain, groaning with effort, but the pillar—as thick as her own torso—showed no intention of budging.
She sighed deeply and examined her ankle.
Thanks to being pulled relentlessly by the shackle for a while ago—no, since a few days ago—bluish bruises had formed on her white skin. By tomorrow, they would surely turn a hideous shade of purple.
It had been four days since she was imprisoned here.
During that time, she had endured isolation so complete it made her shudder. The servants who brought her meals never made eye contact, and her range of movement was limited to about three meters from the bed due to the shackle. Being locked up, taking a walk, or going outside was, of course, impossible.
This wasn't the first time she had worn shackles. Before her regression, she had experienced this when she was dragged to a slave auction without knowing why.
The bedroom she was currently trapped in was incomparably more luxurious than that of the auction house. Every day, glossy, varied meals were served; the bed was wide and soft; and warm sunlight poured into the room through the window.
But her feelings were the same. In fact, this place was even more uncomfortable and suffocating. The fact that Declan still couldn't give up on her and had resorted to this darkened her spirit.
On the first day, she screamed to be let out immediately. On the second day, she tried to persuade him that this was wrong, eventually shedding tears of frustration.
However, he maintained a detached attitude consistently from the carriage ride onward. He was taking steps one by one, very calmly, like a man preparing for marriage with a lover he truly loved.
[Declan] "I'll grant you everything. After we're married. So just endure it a little longer."
Yesterday, when she begged him to release her, the hand that tenderly wiped away her tears seemed so out of place for the culprit behind this scheme that Vanessa felt a momentary flash of horror.
In his eyes, stained with twisted affection, there was not a shred of room for compromise. The layers of madness surrounding him caused her to lose her will.
That didn't mean she stayed still. Although her foot was weighed down by a heavy shackle, she tried every form of resistance she could. Among them, steadfastly refusing the meals that arrived regularly was the act that drew the biggest reaction from Declan.
Thus, all she had eaten in four days was a few sips of water, half a bowl of soup he had forced into her mouth, and a single piece of bread.
Perhaps because her intake was absurdly low, she had little strength.
As she reflected on the past few days, she suddenly clutched her chest at a burning pain spreading from deep inside.
Since coming here, this unknown symptom had appeared little by little, and now it was flaring up rapidly. Today, it felt as if her airway and entrails were being scalded by sizzling heat, making it difficult to even exhale without gasping.
As she lay prone, barely panting, the pain faded after a short while. It was an intermittent symptom of unknown cause.
Knock, knock.
Her face, steeped in exhaustion, turned slowly toward the door. Although it hadn't opened yet, she guessed the purpose of the visit. They had likely brought the meal that was served unfailingly, regardless of whether she overturned the table or kicked the tray.
Vanessa curled her hands, which were resting on the floor, into fists.
Last night, the expression on Declan’s face as he looked down at the untouched food—a form of protest—had been unusual.
[Declan] "If you keep acting like this, I'll have to do things my way, Vanessa."
It was the first time since her regression that her name sounded so chilling. At the time, she thought it was just a simple threat to pressure her.
[Sophie] "E-excuse me."
However, the moment she saw the maid, Sophie, open the door and enter, that thought shattered into pieces.
She stared at Sophie with eyes full of shock, as if she couldn't believe what she was seeing, before burying her face in her hands. Seeing that nervous, naive face, it was natural that memories of a certain night in this place—where they had both crumbled miserably—would surface.
[Vanessa] "Leave it... over there."
Her voice was weak as she pointed near the nightstand beside the bed.
She didn't have the confidence to face Sophie properly. The moment she faced her, it felt as if the painful memories of this place, which she had suppressed with sheer will, would surge up uncontrollably. Her heart was already pounding as if reliving that time.
[Sophie] "Uhm, well."
She placed the tray full of food on the nightstand but hesitated, lingering nearby.
[Sophie] "The Master gave instructions to make sure I saw the Lady eating before I leave."
Vanessa unknowingly bit her lip hard. As she chewed over the thought of that "Master" with the handsome face, a wildfire of indignation raged inside her.
[Vanessa] "I'll eat on my own, so tell him you watched me and left."
[Sophie] "T-that..."
Sophie rolled her eyes anxiously, glancing between Vanessa and the door. It was clear the girl had been thoroughly threatened. Her nervousness was palpable; she was terrified that if she left now, she would be caught failing to follow orders.
Vanessa sighed deeply and signaled for her to bring the tray. For someone trapped in a prison-like space, the meal was lavish. She had no appetite, but she forced the food down her throat.
However, as food suddenly entered her stomach, which had been empty for days of not eating properly, her body seemed to resist, and a wave of nausea rushed over her.
[Vanessa] "Urgh."
As she turned pale and covered her mouth, Sophie, looking ghastly, hurriedly knelt and handed her a glass of water.
Vanessa only looked composed after gulping down the water. But her eyes, which had inadvertently heated up, did not cool down. She pressed her eyes firmly as if in pain.
If she were at home, this would have caused a commotion. She thought of her father, who would have been frantic, demanding a physician be called immediately.
Since being dragged here, she naturally had no opportunity or method to contact her family. It was frustrating not knowing how the situation outside was unfolding.
Count Rohawk must have been horrified to hear the news that his only daughter had suddenly gone missing. Since he was no longer young, she worried constantly that he might have collapsed from the shock.
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