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

My sister’s voice was still heavy with exhaustion as she responded.

“…Alright.”
The door opened.
The first thing I saw was his boots—those obnoxious, irritating boots—filling my entire field of vision.

Percival sneered.
“So even the most beautiful woman in high society looks like a mess when she’s sick. I suppose it’s impressive that you still manage to have some charm in this state.”
“Since you already knew that, did you bring anything for me?”

“…What?”
“You came to see the most beautiful lady in high society, yet you didn’t even bring a gift? I’ve never allowed a man into my room without at least a bouquet.”
“…”

Round one of this battle of insufferability went to my sister.
For a moment, Percival was speechless. Then, pretending he hadn’t been provoked in the slightest, he let out a dry laugh.
“Interesting.”

“Then it’s your turn to entertain me now. Did you at least bring an amusing story?”
“…You won’t like what I have to say.”
“I wasn’t expecting to.” She let out a sigh, then coughed. “Haa… cough.”

“Hold on.”
I heard the sound of water being poured, then the soft clink of a cup being placed beside her. My sister drank.
He gave her water without being asked? A small, almost human-like gesture?

I shoved the thought away immediately. Don’t let your guard down just because he acted decent once.
Of course, my sister remained unfazed.
“Thank you. But now I’m wondering just how awful your story must be if you’re starting with an act of kindness.”
“It’s not as bad as you’re imagining.”

“Really? Shouldn’t we start with your confession about drugging the tea I drank yesterday? That doesn’t sound particularly mild to me.”
“You noticed?”
“I should’ve been suspicious the moment I actually liked the convent’s tea. But… realizing it now is too damn late, isn’t it?”

“It’s not as dangerous as you’re making it sound. It was just a medicinal tonic meant to help with alcohol withdrawal. Think of it as a remedy to ease the effects of that wine you so enjoyed yesterday.”
“Oh, it was delicious.”
“I’ll send a few bottles to your estate. It was aged from the year you were born—your father will find that little historical tidbit quite amusing.”

His words were calm, unbothered—so casual it made my skin crawl.
Just as my sister’s patience was running out, he sat down on the edge of her bed—
And dropped a bomb.

“Marry me, Natalie Redfield.”
For a moment, neither of us could speak.
His tone was as indifferent as if he were ordering a pack of cigarettes.

Right now, he was probably savoring my sister’s stunned silence.
Finally, she managed to respond.
“That’s the most pathetic proposal I’ve ever heard.”

“You’ve been showered with praise since before your debut, haven’t you? But there’s a limit to the joy a person can experience in life. Consider this the price of never opening your heart to anyone.”
“Did someone pay you to harass me on behalf of all the men I’ve rejected? Or… have you secretly empathized with the ones I turned down?”
Percival flinched. His boot twitched slightly.

It was satisfying to watch—
But he quickly took a deep breath, forcing himself to stay calm, and then delivered the reality of the situation.
“Go ahead and say whatever you want. It won’t change the fact that you’re lying there helpless, while your parents believe something sweet is happening between us.”

“…”
My sister ground her teeth audibly.
“Why did you choose me?”

“Process of elimination. You had to be noble. You had to have just enough of a scandalous reputation to be open to a man like me. Your personality and your borderline age fit the bill. You had to be beautiful. And, most importantly—”
He suddenly leaned forward, tapping something lightly.
“At that hunting tournament, when I went to see your dancing, you stepped on my foot without warning. I think it’s only fair that you pay for that.”

“…Ha.” My sister let out a breath. “So what, you want to step on mine now?”
“We’ll be dancing together plenty in the future, so I’m sure I’ll have my chances.” He exhaled sharply. “…This wouldn’t have happened if it weren’t for your sister.”
“…What?”

The bed creaked as my sister tried to sit up.
But Percival pushed her back down and continued.
“If Doris hadn’t pulled her little stunt onstage, I would’ve spent my life with some pretty enough lover, living as I pleased. But thanks to her, my family started pressuring me to settle down—before I became too much of a spectacle.”

“…Damn it. Getting dragged into another family’s parenting issues is the last thing I need.”
“The one who needs parenting is you, Natalie. Why do you think I brought you here?”
“To cause the biggest scandal possible and ruin your own life?”

“You really do love the dramatic, don’t you? But no, you’re not that important.”
“…”
“I wanted to show you the future you’ve been trying so hard to ignore. If you refuse my proposal, this is where you’ll end up.”

It was the worst kind of insult.
Especially to my sister—who had always seen “the convent” as the ultimate cage forced upon her.
Even though I couldn’t see her face from my hiding place, I could tell from the slight lift in Percival’s voice that he sensed her composure cracking.

“That nun who greeted you yesterday? She was once the daughter of a viscount. She used to collect landscape paintings. Now, the only thing she does is wipe the dust off old religious paintings alongside commoner nuns.”
“…”
“The vice director handling accounts? She was once a countess managing vast lands. The official story is that she turned to religion after her husband died, but in reality, she was forced out due to political conflicts with her children.”

His voice was cruelly steady, painting a picture of women reduced to nothing.
That woman used to be a noble, but now she’s nothing.
She sews alongside commoners and occasionally looks wistfully at the young ladies who still have their freedom. But that won’t last long—because soon, even memories of her past will fade.

Shut the hell up, you bastard!
Historically, convents weren’t just places where noble families discarded their unmarried daughters. They ran self-sufficient estates, produced textiles, and even housed scholars. Some women found refuge in them to escape unwanted marriages.
This wasn’t some meaningless, forgotten space like he claimed.

But what comfort would that be to my sister?
I thought of the glances the younger nuns had given us in the halls. My sister was probably remembering them, too.
At some point, the room had fallen silent.

Percival slowly stood.
“Winning over your parents was easy. Leaving you here was even easier. If you make the wrong move and try to meet another man, you’ll be cast out of high society entirely.”
“…”

“Cheer up. I’m still treating you reasonably—and you still have a reasonable choice left. Marry a prince. It’s a good deal.”
My sister finally spoke, her voice slow.
“…I suppose it is—if I forget everything you just said today.”

“I haven’t done anything, have I? You drank too much, got caught in the waterfall, and now I’m here taking care of you. Isn’t that right?”
“…”
“I hope you make a wise decision… while I still find your face appealing.”

He rose to leave.
Under the bed, I gripped the metal tool tightly.
I wanted nothing more than to slash his face open.

But that wouldn’t help us.
There is no way in hell I’m letting my sister marry this bastard.
Just then, my sister’s voice stopped him.

“Your Highness. Before you go, could you do something for me?”
“…If it’s difficult, I’d rather not.”
“It’s simple. Kiss me.”

What?
I stiffened. Percival seemed caught off guard too—but he wasn’t about to let go of his advantage.
“I don’t see why not. You’re not planning to bite my tongue off, are you?”

“Of course not. There’s just something I need to consider before accepting your proposal.”
“And what’s that?”
He placed a knee on the bed and leaned in.

And my sister, voice ice-cold, whispered—
“I hate men who can’t kiss.”