I'm Not Sorry But The Prince Will Marry Me Anyway

Chapter 12



Chapter 12

“Your aunt will be here soon to act as your chaperone. If she starts nagging, just shift the topic by blaming me,” Natalie advised casually.

“Sister...”

“The Queen always serves waffles at her balls, and they taste incredible with a strong cup of coffee. That’s a fact.”

There was no point in arguing, so I puffed out my cheeks and replied, “I’ll eat ten servings!”

“Haha! You should. I’m looking forward to the rumors that the third daughter of the Redfield family singlehandedly wiped out the royal palace’s butter supply.”

With that, Natalie dropped me off and left in her carriage without so much as a backward glance.

The abrupt departure left the palace servant a little flustered.

“Milady, do you not have a chaperone with you?”

“She’ll be here soon.”

“Would you like to wait over here, then?”

Is an unaccompanied lady treated like a lost child?

I was led to a small patio next to the hall. The lush greenery provided some privacy, and a maid kindly brought me tea and snacks, making the wait less awkward.

Ugh, how do I clear up Natalie’s misunderstanding?

‘Could it be that she’s trying to set me up with Arthur?’

This is bad. Natalie is supposed to be the one charming Arthur!

Sure, transmigration stories tend to veer away from the original plot, but...

Where did it all go wrong?

‘The original story didn’t delve much into Natalie’s thoughts.’

She was a stereotypical villainess, transparent as Alaska’s ocean waters. Her actions screamed: I’m beautiful, I deserve everything, and of course that perfect man is mine!

The narration painted her as someone who didn’t genuinely care for Arthur but saw him as a prize.

‘In the original, she pursued Arthur because of the Earl and Countess’s meddling. But this time, it seems she isn’t listening to them.’

That’s great personal growth as a human being, but...

‘If Natalie doesn’t pursue Arthur, will he still end up with Maria?’

They’re one of those couples: I love you, but we’re not meant for each other. I’ll let you go... but I can’t live without you after all! They thrive on external challenges to ignite their passion.

What should I do?

‘Should I explain to Natalie how amazing Arthur is as a potential husband?’

No way. That would only make her misunderstanding worse!

As I wrestled with my thoughts, guests began arriving at the ball.

Most of them were debutantes from this year. They were all adorably nervous, trembling like young deer.

Even Maria Meyer, who had seemed like a flawless royal portrait come to life when I saw her in the greenhouse, wasn’t exempt. She was fidgeting in front of a servant, speaking with shaky hands. It was... a little endearing.

Wait. Why is she coming this way?

“Excuse me,” Maria said apologetically, looking genuinely contrite.

“My chaperone forgot her bag and went back to retrieve it. Would it be alright if I sat here with you until she returns?”

“Of course.”

“Thank you.”

She smiled shyly and took a seat across from me.

Help. This setup forces me into small talk. I just wanted to be alone!

Soon, Maria received her tea and naturally began introducing herself.

“I’m Maria Meyer, a debutante this year and the niece of Baron Meyer. May I ask for your name, milady?”

“I’m Doris Redfield, the third daughter of the Earl of Redfield.”

“If you’re the third daughter, then the title ‘Miss Redfield’ doesn’t belong exclusively to you. May I call you Doris?”

“‘Doris’ is only used when my parents are scolding me. You can call me Dori instead.”

“Dori... Miss Dori.”

She rolled the name on her tongue like tasting candy, and then her face lit up with a radiant smile.

“Wow! This is the first time I’ve called someone by their nickname. It feels like I’ve made a friend!”

"I thought your corset felt a little loose—so you were planning to stuff yourself today, weren’t you?"

"I didn’t even know I’d be coming to the ball!"

"Wait here. I’ll check if there’s a cloakroom we can use. Tightening your waist another inch might help you forget about snacks altogether."

She didn’t just threaten—she actually left to make good on it.

Ugh! It’s bad enough that Natalie tricked me, and now I have to deal with an even tighter corset?!

What’s the point? It’s not like I’m debuting in a girl group.

...Wait a minute. Should I grab something to eat before she gets back?

Right in front of me was a mini sandwich filled with potato salad speckled with crispy bacon bits. It looked savory and delicious—not too heavy like butter-laden pound cake.

But as I reached for it, I hesitated.

I could feel the sharp gazes of the other chaperones in the room, idly observing and whispering about the young ladies. No doubt I was within their line of sight.

If I ate that sandwich, they might tattle to my aunt.

Reluctantly, I pulled my hand back.

Meanwhile, the lady next to me sliced into a waffle. The knife crunched through the crispy surface, releasing a puff of steam that clung to the blade. It was cooked to absolute perfection.

Don’t stare.

Just enjoy the tea. You always feel bad paying 4,000 won for a teabag, but here it’s free. This is... kind of nice...

Butter. The smell of butter!

I couldn’t take it anymore. I stood up.

Just a quick escape to clear my head.

I didn’t go far, stopping in the corridor outside the hall. I idly examined the portraits hanging on the walls, guessing which era each painting style belonged to.

And then, an unexpected voice—though it was very fitting for this place—called out to me.

"Dori Redfield."

I turned to see... Tristan. Looking even more handsome than usual.

Perhaps it was the royal ball. His hair was neatly slicked back, and his formal attire, minimalist in decoration, emphasized his strong frame. He looked like the quintessential male lead of a romance novel.

Of course, Tristan was more like the petty antagonist who couldn’t even qualify as a second male lead.

"So it’s you from the Redfield family. How curious. I was certain Natalie would rush to attend a royal ball."

"There were some... circumstances."

Natalie tricked me with the promise of sweets.

Tristan, naturally, misunderstood.

"She must not be feeling well."

"Perhaps."

"And you? Are you unwell in any way?"

What? Why is this suddenly about me?

"I’m perfectly fine, Your Highness."

"It’s just that I noticed you haven’t eaten anything. I wondered if something was bothering you."

"Oh... no, the tea is just very good!"

"Of course it is. However," he said, his tone suddenly serious, "you’re known for having a sweet tooth."

...Excuse me?

My face flushed with heat. How does he know that?!

No, no, no—I don’t love sweets that much!

"Y-Your Highness, why would you think that?"

"Is it surprising? Anyone who watches you could see it—"

"See what?"

"...That is, I’ve heard such rumors. They’ve been passed along."

Why would that even be a rumor?!

I felt the heat in my face grow. Is there some unspoken rule about limiting dessert consumption here?

"Ahem. Anyway," Tristan coughed to clear the awkwardness, "I don’t know why you’re refraining from eating sweets, but if you’re not unwell, should I fetch you some candy?"


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