Please Grant Me a Glorious Regret [Novel] Chapter 5

"My Lady, are you alright? Did you perhaps stay out in the wind for too long?"

Martha, the maid brushing Arte's damp hair, asked worriedly.

"No, I'm fine. I'm just a bit tired, that's all."

Arte forced a smile, trying to reassure her maid.

Even Arte herself was barely sure how she had managed to drag herself back to her room.

After Dimion had turned away so fiercely, she had remained frozen in that very spot for a long while, utterly unable to move.

The cold fury radiating from him had paralyzed her, and the unimaginable story he had unveiled left her completely immobilized.

"Are you sure you aren't catching a cold? You look more than just tired…"

"I'm really fine. I'm perfectly okay."

It was a lie, of course.

The look in Dimion's eyes and the tone of his voice as he declared Phelia to be his dead lover continued to haunt her.

But she couldn't exactly relay that story to Martha, nor did she have the energy to explain even a condensed version.

Her only choice was to hope Martha would buy her lie.

"Ah! My Lady, is it because of the Duke of Rocata? Did you exhaust yourself worrying over it? You did, didn't you?! A young maid in the dining room earlier mentioned that the way the Duke looked at you was unusual. And she said you were staring right back at him! My Lady, staring at a man! I completely understand, though. It's the Duke of Rocata, of all people. He's the most handsome man in the Empire!"

Fortunately or unfortunately, Martha didn't just buy the lie, she ran with it, enthusiastically adding her own wildly embellished details.

"He's far more handsome in person than in the newspaper photos, so all the maids are in a tizzy today. There's a girl in the kitchen named Terry, and she is absolutely obsessed with the Duke. She has practically memorized every bit of news about him from the gossip rags. Thanks to her, even I ended up memorizing things about him!"

"You know everything there is to know?"

"Yes! There's all sorts of information. His various tastes, his family relations, his romantic affairs, stories from his deployments…"

Arte, who had been letting the chatter go in one ear and out the other, suddenly felt her eyes spark to life.

The moment she heard those words, the image of Dimion, demanding if she truly didn't know who Phelia Darton was, vividly resurfaced.

Dimion hadn't believed for a second that Arte genuinely didn't know of Phelia's existence.

He seemed entirely convinced that it was impossible, that everyone simply had to know.

"Martha. Do you happen to know someone named Phelia Darton?"

"Oh my! Of course I do, My Lady. How could I not?"

Martha affirmed without a shred of hesitation.

Her reaction was akin to being asked which direction the sun rose, as if it were the most obvious question in the world.

There was even a hint of bewilderment in her response.

"Who wouldn't know of Lady Darton, the Duke of Rocata's lover!"

Arte, the who in question, was left momentarily speechless.

"Don't tell me… My Lady, do you really know nothing at all? About the story between the Duke of Rocata and Lady Darton?"

Her lips parting slightly, Arte slowly nodded.

At that, Martha reacted with genuine shock and unleashed a torrent of words.

"Truly? You've genuinely never heard of it?"

"Yes. Is she really that famous?"

"Famous doesn't even begin to cover it, I doubt there's a single person alive who doesn't know! Good heavens! Just think of all the romance novels that were spun off from their story… Ah, right, you never read romance novels, My Lady."

Martha, initially astonished, quickly realized the truth and nodded in understanding.

Unlike other young women her age, Arte had no interest in romantic love between men and women.

She didn't believe in love at first sight, romance, passions that drew people like moths to a flame, or eternal devotion.

She scoffed every time she heard the phrase "eternal love".

An emotion that lasted endlessly?

It was the grandest illusion of all.

Arte was absolutely certain that the emotion called love came with a strict expiration date.

Because of this, she couldn't understand Lisa or Peter, who were both holding out for a once-in-a-lifetime romantic love.

While it was reportedly a trend among nobles in the capital to declare they wouldn't marry without true love, Arte actually considered the traditional aristocratic marriage ideal.

What was so wrong with setting aside fleeting emotions to find a mutually beneficial match and treating marriage as a contract?

Whenever she voiced these thoughts, it would leave not just Lisa but even her parents dumbfounded, though Arte paid them no mind.

For a woman this dry toward romance, it was only natural she wouldn't know the story of Dimion and Phelia.

In fact, it would have been stranger if she did.

"Shall I tell you about it, My Lady? I truly have it all memorized."

"Yes, Martha. Tell me."

Arte nodded eagerly.

Normally, she would have been repulsed by such a story, but right now, it was essential listening.

She needed to know exactly who Phelia was and the full story between her and Dimion to make any sense of the questions swarming in her head.

"The story started with a strange rumor."

"A strange rumor?"

"Yes. A rumor that the great Duke of Rocata was loitering around the National Art School."

Martha began the tale with the solemnity of a theater actor taking the stage.

Dimion and Phelia's connection had begun on a summer day six years ago.

The capital was turned upside down by the news that Dimion, who had been labeled a cold-blooded man since childhood, was seen hovering awkwardly around the art school.
Amidst heated debates over whether it was actually Dimion or just a look-alike, with many arguing it was absurd to think another man in the Empire could possess such a striking face, Dimion himself escorted a young lady back to the Ducal estate.

When the news broke, high society in the capital was thrown into another uproar, sparking intense debates over the young lady's identity.

Though perhaps slightly less influential than the Rocata family, she was the youngest daughter of one of the most prestigious noble houses in the Empire.

Within days of her identity being revealed, the nature of Dimion and Phelia's relationship became public: they were fiancés.

It was also revealed that their betrothal was a long-standing agreement between the Rocata and Darton families.

"When it was first announced, everyone was quite disappointed. Arranged engagements are a dime a dozen, after all. But!"

"But?"

"The Duke of Rocata changed."

Dimion had long been famous for showing absolutely no interest in women.

It was so extreme that whispers circulated wondering if his tastes simply lay elsewhere.

Yet, that exceptionally cold and calculating man transformed into a lovestruck boy overnight.

He was spotted far more often near the art school than the military academy.

He began purchasing jewelry and gowns for her, and even started building a greenhouse exclusively for Phelia.

"They say he spent a fortune to procure an item from across the continent in just three months, something that normally takes a whole year to acquire. And all simply because it was something Lady Darton wanted."

Martha spoke with as much emotion as if she had received the gift herself.

It certainly warranted the gossip.

For a man radiating such a chill to overtly display signs of being madly in love, it was impossible for the public not to be in a frenzy.

Sure enough, high society could talk of nothing else but Dimion and Phelia whenever they gathered.

Gossip magazines reported on the pair at every opportunity, unabashedly dubbing them the Couple of the Century.

They even published interviews with cadets who were close friends of Dimion and a young lady who claimed to be Phelia's dormitory roommate, all serving as testaments to the couple deeply in love.

That was how wild the frenzy was everywhere.

"People were even placing bets on the date of their wedding! And this was before they had even held their official engagement ceremony. That’s how much of an uproar it caused. However…"

Martha, who had been recounting the tale with girlish excitement, suddenly turned somber.

"You mean… she died?"

"Yes, My Lady. Did you know she had passed away?"

"…Yes. I heard that much."

Dimion's voice, announcing Phelia's death, was still chillingly clear in her mind.

Arte squeezed her eyes shut as she recalled the icy glare in his eyes while he spoke of Phelia's corpse.

"What happened? I heard the Duke of Rocata personally… recovered her body."

Suppressing a sigh, Arte steadied her heart and asked for the full story.

She needed to know how he had ended up recovering his lover's body himself.

"It was truly tragic. Do you know of the military academy explosion five years ago, My Lady?"

"Yes. I know of it."

"Lady Darton was caught in that incident. She had gone to visit the Duke of Rocata, and she lost her life."