Please Grant Me a Glorious Regret [Novel] Chapter 6

"Ah…"

Arte was momentarily lost for words.

Hearing the full story, everything finally clicked into place.

Why he had been so infuriated by her asking if she might be Phelia, and the piteous look in his eyes the moment he mistook her for Phelia.

"Because of the continuous explosions, the recovery efforts were delayed, and entry was blocked. But they say the Duke blindly charged inside just to find Lady Darton. After wandering for a long time, he eventually… found her."

"…"

"As you likely know, My Lady, the victims' bodies were crushed under the debris of the explosion and severely disfigured, making identification incredibly difficult at the time. Lady Darton's body was much the same. But the Duke recognized the crest etched onto the back of her hand…"

The Ducal House of Darton was famous not only for its prestige but also for its unique hereditary trait.

Direct descendants were born with a scar resembling a magic circle on the back of their left hand.

Phelia, too, bore the mark of Darton, and Dimion had recognized her crest instantly.

"So, could the Duke possibly be in his right mind after the accident? It was absolute chaos. They say he constantly attempted to take his own life. The entire Ducal estate was on high alert. They tried to keep it hushed up, but the rumors spread throughout the entire Empire. I still remember hearing about it vividly."

The more she listened to the story, the more bewildered Arte became.

Just as Dimion had said, Arte could never be Phelia.

Arte was right here, clearly alive and breathing, and she hadn't died.

Therefore, it couldn't be her memory.

Someone named Phelia had plainly existed and lived at the same time as Arte.

The mistake Dimion mentioned was quite literally just a mistake.

The more she thought about it, the more she felt her head might explode.

Countless theories chased each other in her mind, but she couldn't find a clear answer.

Then, suddenly, she realized there was one very important question she had yet to ask.

"By any chance, did Lady Darton also have silver hair and golden eyes?"

Dimion had said Arte resembled Phelia.

She wanted to confirm exactly where and how they looked alike.

"I believe you are the only one in the Empire with silver hair and golden eyes, My Lady. She had long, straight brown hair. It was said her eyes were weak, so she always wore a thin cloth over them, but her eye color was supposedly brown as well."

"Then what about her face? Are there no photographs or portraits?"

"There are no photographs, and the only remaining portrait was painted when she was a child. But she looked nothing like you in it. I'm not just saying this because I serve you, My Lady, but I truly mean it when I say you are far more beautiful."

Martha, with an expression bordering on solemnity, launched into an explanation of exactly how Arte was prettier than Phelia.

It was flattering, but none of it registered in Arte's mind.

She was utterly confused.

This meant that Dimion, looking at an Arte who looked nothing like his former lover, had somehow been reminded of Phelia.

Arte squeezed her eyes shut, feeling as if the more she knew, the more her mind tangled itself into knots.

She felt like her head might burst.

The storm brought by the unexpected guest had shaken Arte violently.

In the end, Arte spent the night tossing and turning, unable to sleep a wink.

Even when she tried to force herself to stop thinking and get some rest, countless questions chased each other through her mind, making sleep impossible.

Still agonizing over the situation, Arte summoned Martha once more.

She asked the butler, who had a hobby of collecting newspapers, to sort out a pile from the past few years.

Then, together with Martha, she meticulously scoured every article that contained the name Dimion Rocata.

She had done this out of a feeling that, to resolve the confusion overwhelming her, she needed to know more about Dimion.

There was no grand discovery.

She only realized further just how dazzling a halo he carried.

He was the youngest genius to enter the Royal Academy, and he had built his merits by also being the youngest to graduate.

He was commissioned as the youngest Captain, as he had led forces to victory on the front lines of battles far beyond the continent, and he had been deployed on a rescue mission and saved his entire platoon.

It was all like that.

Every article sparkled with his achievements.

There wasn't a single scandal attached to his fame.

The only story with a different tone was a report that the nanny who had kidnapped Dimion when he was a child had finally been caught after a long pursuit.

Even that merely served to demonstrate how ruthlessly the Rocata family eliminated their enemies and the immense power and wealth they wielded.

The flavor was different, but it was just another part of the halo surrounding Dimion.

After scouring the newspapers, Arte couldn't hold back a heavy sigh.

She was only left with the daunting realization that she had managed to severely offend a truly incredible man, and she was at a complete loss for how to apologize and resolve the situation.

Thanks to all this, Arte's condition was dreadful.

Her eyes were bloodshot, and dark circles shadowed her under-eyes.

Fortunately, the skilled maids managed to cover it up with makeup, but a heavy fatigue pressed down on Arte like waterlogged cotton.

Normally, she would have used her sleepless night as an excuse to toss around and take a nap.

But today, of all days, was one where that was absolutely impossible.

Today was the day of a charity event hosted by Count Tian.

It was an incredibly significant event for the Count's family, almost to the point that they had invited their guests specifically to coincide with it.

The Count, who cherished the people of his estate dearly, never skipped the charity event, even when their finances were tight.

Knowing his sincerity, no one in the family could stop him, nor did they try.

They simply pitched in to help the Count quietly.

Arte herself had spent the entire month dedicating her efforts to preparing for the event.

For the sake of all that hard work, she couldn't afford to show her fatigue and sulk.

Dressed according to the dress code in a white gown and wearing a narrow-brimmed hat adorned with a yellow ribbon, Arte dutifully stood by the Count, greeting guests.

"I can't tell you how relieved I am that the weather is so fine. It seems to have brought out a large crowd."

"Indeed, Father. I think there are more people than last year."

Contrary to her worries, today's event was quite a success right from the start.

The Count’s bright, good-natured smile was proof enough.

"I believe the rumor that the Duke of Rocata is here has played a part."

The Count whispered softly as they exchanged nods with guests from a distance.

Just as she had managed to push the name out of her mind, hearing it again made her heart sink.

Her dreams and the reason for Dimion’s mistake remained a mystery, but one thing was absolutely clear: Arte was not Phelia.

She had to apologize.

It wasn't Dimion who had been mistaken, but Arte.

And since her mistake had reopened his old wounds, it was obvious that she had to set things right.

The problem was that she couldn't see an opportunity arising to offer him that apology.

The image of Dimion turning away so coldly remained vivid.

It wasn't just a fleeting anger.

Remembering his fiercely sharpened eyes still sent a shiver down her spine.

Even if Dimion didn't ignore her, Arte lacked the confidence to face him as boldly as she had before.

"Ah, Arte. You're in charge of preparing the auction again this time, aren't you?"

"Yes, Father."

"When the Duke of Rocata heard about the auction yesterday, he mentioned he had an item he'd like to donate. He said he has something he can offer today. Go and receive the item from him, and rearrange the auction schedule accordingly."

"Ah… Yes, Father. I'll do that."

Should she call it good luck or bad luck?

A bridge was built from a completely unexpected direction.

Initially flustered, Arte soon nodded and left her father's side.

The thought of facing and dealing with Dimion was still suffocating, but she had no other choice.

Perhaps using her father and the auction as an excuse would make things go more smoothly.

Pressing down on her throbbing temples, Arte headed toward the inner parts of the garden to find Dimion.

"Arte!"

However, the moment she crossed the garden and entered a secluded alley, a voice that filled her with disgust just by hearing it called out to her.

She prayed desperately until the moment she stopped dead in her tracks, but her wish was ultimately denied.

"I just heard something very interesting, where are you going?"