Chapter 01
The view outside the carriage was like another world.
From afar, the Mage Tower spilled violet clouds into the sky, and along the road leading to the Imperial Palace, flowers conjured by magic bloomed in dazzling colors.
“Haa…”
Yet even as I looked upon this strange and beautiful scenery, I felt no wonder.
Because this sunlight, this view before me, might very well be the last I ever saw.
“No… what am I even thinking?”
To die was that truly my fate?
No.
I’ll survive.
You’ll see.
But before I could even steel my resolve, the carriage came to a halt before the Crown Prince’s palace.
I stepped down onto solid ground and looked toward the gates.
And there, from within the entrance, a radiant light poured out.
When I forced my eyes open against its brilliance, I didn’t need anyone to tell me who it was.
That’s Vincent Arthur Fitzroy… the Crown Prince.
That radiance had to be the glow of the male lead himself.
As if to make matters worse, today of all days he was dressed in a white uniform.
As he drew closer, I quickly lowered my gaze and offered a proper bow.
“Your Imperial Highness, Crown Prince.”
“Welcome, Amelia.”
Before I even finished, Prince Vincent reached out, gently took my hand, and brushed his lips across the back of it.
BEEP—
A first warning siren blared in my head, my heart racing wildly.
Was it because I stood before such beauty?
Or because I had inched one step closer to my own death?
I couldn’t even tell.
This much can still be called courtesy.
A gentleman’s manners toward a lady.
I clung to that thread of hope, though doubt prickled beneath the surface.
“Y–Your Highness?”
Up close, he was dazzling.
Smooth, flawless skin without a single pore in sight, features sculpted as if by the hand of a god, and hair that gleamed with perfect luster.
Snap out of it.
What if I actually fall for him here?
Vincent’s lips curved into a gentle smile.
“Amelia… seeing you again like this, it feels like a dream.”
“I heard word of your recovery, Your Highness.
I should have come sooner to see you, but”
“Amelia.”
Again, he didn’t let me finish.
Instead, he drew me closer, his hand tightening around mine.
So close that his breath almost brushed against my skin, his emerald eyes softened into a beautiful arc.
“I missed you so much.”
At that shy expression, the second warning siren blared in my head.
There’s no way this counts as mere courtesy anymore.
Amelia’s memories held nothing like this but the novel’s pages did.
And that was the problem.
I tried to retreat, just slightly, keeping my composure.
“Your Highness, why are you acting this way all of a sudden?”
“Ah… it was only after collapsing that I realized it.
Just how important you are to me.”
“……”
It was getting harder and harder to keep my expression in check.
Why?
Why did Amelia only become “important” to him after he collapsed?
“So I’ve been thinking, Amelia.
It would be best if you moved into the Crown Prince’s palace and lived with me.”
“Your Highness, no.
How could I possibly…?”
“No do it.
After all, we are betrothed, are we not?”
His voice was soft, yet beneath it lay a firmness that brooked no refusal.
In other words, it was the command of the Crown Prince.
“From this day forward, I don’t want you out of my sight.
Not even for a moment.”
No.
Please, anything but those words.
Though I had already resigned myself to doom, I clung to one final hope and prayed desperately to every god I knew.
But my prayers were in vain.
With eyes as gentle as bent emeralds, he lowered his lips to my forehead in a tender kiss.
As if to say endure this as well.
“I love you, Amelia.”
At that one line, so sweet it struck the peak of romance, I knew for certain.
And I despaired.
There’s no mistake.
This man… is the Crown Prince who has regressed.
My mind reeled, the world tilting away.
My legs buckled beneath me.
Vincent reached out to steady me, but instinctively, I slapped his hand aside.
“Amelia?”
“…Ah.”
His hand still outstretched, his face wore a look of bewilderment.
From his expression alone, it seemed he had only meant to help me.
“I… I’m sorry.
I felt a little dizzy.”
“Oh dear, it seems you’re unwell.”
“No, I’m fine now.”
“Then that is a relief.
Come.”
Cautiously, I laid my hand upon his arm as he escorted me forward.
He turned to me with a smile so beautiful it looked as if it had been painted.
But I saw it.
His eyes… they weren’t smiling at all.
The man beside me, this devastatingly handsome figure he didn’t just dislike me.
No.
He wanted me dead.
“I trust the meal was to your liking.”
“Yes… it was delicious, Your Highness.”
I couldn’t tell if the food was going into my mouth or my nose, but there was no denying the feast was perfect.
Throughout the entire dinner, Crown Prince Vincent had been overly attentive, far beyond what was necessary.
And I, sitting in that stiflingly awkward yet honored seat, could only turn over my absurd situation again and again in my head.
How… how did I end up here, of all places?
For this was the world of the romance-fantasy novel I Will Abandon Revenge.
I didn’t know how I had been possessed and thrown into it, nor did I have the chance to even adapt before being dragged to this very seat.
But I couldn’t afford to act clueless.
If I was the possessor, then he was the regressor.
And not just any regressor one fueled entirely by the will to avenge.
Of all people, why did I have to possess Amelia?
The name of the body I now inhabited was Amelia Wentworth.
The Crown Prince’s fiancée.
And, more importantly!
The very one who poisoned and killed him before his regression.
So to the returned Crown Prince, Amelia was revenge target number one.
He smiled at me constantly, treated me with warmth, and yet… at times, I caught him watching me, as if studying my every move.
Behind the lowered lashes as he lifted his teacup, I couldn’t guess what ran through his mind.
No, that’s obvious, isn’t it.
He was weighing it all how best to exact his vengeance so that it would be praised as fitting.
My palms dampened with nervous sweat.
“Haa…”
The sigh slipped out before I could stop it, and Vincent reacted immediately.
“Amelia, you seem bored.”
“No, Your Highness, not at all.”
“Perhaps it’s because we haven’t met in so long.
You don’t seem like yourself today.”
His words struck a little too close, and I nearly dropped the teacup from my hands.
The truth was, in the original story, Amelia loved him whether before or after his regression until the very moment she poisoned him.
For her, being here, sharing tea at his side, would have been enough to set her heart racing.
She would have seized the chance to chatter away, eager to win his favor.
But me?
With my head this full of dread and calculation, I couldn’t possibly play that part.
“Well… isn’t it the same for you, Your Highness?”
“Is that so.”
He answered quietly, setting down his empty teacup.
Then his gaze shifted to the teapot.
“The fragrance is delightful I’ve already finished mine.
Amelia, would you pour me another?”
“Ah… yes.”
Until now, Vincent had done everything himself.
This was the first time he’d asked something of me.
I picked up the teapot from the side table.
And suddenly, a scene from the novel flashed through my mind.
When Amelia poisoned the Crown Prince before his regression… she slipped the poison into his tea.
Could it be that he was testing me right now?
That he had asked deliberately?
The thought made my hand tremble violently as I held the pot.
Sure enough, Vincent’s lips curved ever so slightly, his eyes fixed intently on me.
“Amelia, you seem… overly nervous.”
“Haha… It’s just… being here with Your Highness makes me so excited, even my hands are shaking.”
I forced a smile to cover my nerves, and Vincent tilted his head slightly.
“I see.
But Amelia, if you tremble like that, people might start to suspect you.
They’ll think perhaps you slipped poison into the tea.”
The casual words landed like a blade.
My heart lurched, and I almost dropped the teapot right then.
Stay calm.
The original Amelia has no knowledge of what happened before his regression.
Feigning confusion, I let out a small, awkward laugh.
“Your Highness, what an ominous thing to say.”
Vincent’s lips curved upward again, as though nothing had happened.
“Ah, I suppose that was a poor joke.
But here hand it to me.
You’ll end up spilling everything at this rate.”
I struggled to steady my trembling hands as I passed the handle of the teapot to him.
The moment his long fingers closed around it and I let go.
Thud.
Crash!
The porcelain teapot slipped from his grasp, shattering against the floor into a spray of jagged shards.
Staring at him in stunned silence, I caught the serene curve of his emerald eyes as he spoke, utterly unfazed.
“Oh dear.
My hand must have slipped.”
That bastard.
He had definitely done it on purpose.
