The Regressed Tyrant Princess Rewrites Her Dark History - Chapter 1.11

Upon hearing of Arnold’s visit, Ariadne hurried to the drawing room where he awaited her. When she entered, she found him seated by the window, engrossed in a book.

The sunlight streaming in illuminated his golden hair, making it gleam. Though Ariadne perceived him as younger due to her past life’s experiences, he was undeniably striking enough to momentarily captivate her.

As she gazed at him, lost in thought, Arnold noticed her stare and lifted his head.

“Princess Ariadne, I apologize for the sudden visit.”

“No, I’m the one who kept you waiting.”

“I heard you were meeting with Prince Siegbert. Was everything alright?”

“Yes, I handled it smoothly.”

Ariadne smiled, though Arnold still seemed concerned.

It was only natural. To him, Siegbert was the emblem of an opposing faction—the man seeking to claim the throne that should have been his. Knowing that Ariadne had met with him, it made sense for Arnold to be wary.

Or so Ariadne assumed. In reality, she remained somewhat oblivious, still influenced by the relationships of her previous life.

(It’s best not to make excuses and just get straight to the point.)

“So, what brings you here today, Your Highness?”

“Ah, yes. I’ve brought the items you requested.”

“…Could it be those?”

She turned her gaze toward the wall, which she had been deliberately avoiding. Lined up along it were an overwhelming number of exquisite dresses.

Wearing a dress gifted by a man carried significant meaning—especially if that man was considered a suitor. That was precisely why she had playfully asked Arnold for one, as proof that he was backing her.

But this… this was excessive.

“I wasn’t sure of your exact preferences, so I selected dresses that I thought would suit you. Please choose whichever one you like best.”

“You want me to pick from all these?”

“Yes. Choose the dress you’ll wear on the day of the event. The rest are already yours.”

“…Ah, I see.”

With a distant look, she nodded. And so, Ariadne found herself trying on dress after dress.

Fortunately, Arnold didn’t try to impose his own taste on her. Instead, he respected her choices.

(If it were Siegbert, he would have simply decided for me and been done with it.)

It was more time-consuming this way, but not unpleasant. In the end, Ariadne chose a dress of pure white fabric, adorned with blue frills and embroidery, for the occasion.

“Prince Arnold, I’ll wear this dress on the day of the event.”

“It suits you beautifully. I look forward to escorting you in that dress.”

“Yes… I’ll do my best to meet your expectations.”

After discussing a few details about the event, Arnold took his leave. With that, the preparations were complete.

Just as Ariadne breathed a sigh of relief, Heino appeared.

“Heino, you mentioned you needed something?”

“Yes, actually… The affairs of the Princess’s palace have fallen behind.”

“…What?”

“Since Princess Aria has been bedridden, I’ve been handling what I can. However, there are matters that require your signature.”

“…Oh, right. Of course.”

In her past life, when Aria had died, Ariadne had been forced to take over. But at the time, she had no idea what to do and had entrusted everything to Heino.

This time, she had assumed he would handle things as well—but she had never explicitly given him that authority.

(I could leave it all to him again, but…)

“Understood. I will take over my mother’s duties.”

Heino looked troubled. He had likely hoped to take full charge.

(I trust Heino. If I left things to him, the Princess’s palace would be in good hands. But I need to gain the power to oppose Siegbert.)

For that, simply delegating everything to Heino wouldn’t be enough. Ariadne, who held the strongest card—her knowledge of the future—needed to secure the final authority.

“Heino, please. I want to support my mother. Besides, I won’t ask to handle major decisions right away. There must be plenty of documents that only require a signature, right?”

“…Understood. I will have them delivered to your chambers shortly.”

And so, Ariadne began taking part in the affairs of the Princess’s palace.

(Though, I doubt Heino expects much from me.)

To him, it was probably like humoring a child playing house. Even so, the documents he brought were genuine, and Ariadne diligently reviewed them.

“…These really are just documents waiting for a signature.”

Many were completed reports that simply required final approval. Even so, she carefully read through each one before signing.

Then, one particular financial report caught her attention.

“…This amount seems off. Yes, something’s not right.”

Having handled official affairs in her past life, she could spot discrepancies others might overlook. Marking the document for investigation, she continued reviewing the rest.

No other issues stood out, and she had processed a considerable number of documents in just half a day.

But then, as she reached the final sheet, her expression stiffened.

“A budget request for the knights, huh?”

There was nothing inherently wrong with the contents of the request. However, the mention of the knights brought back certain memories. As a member of the Second Prince’s faction, Ariadne had orchestrated numerous schemes against the First Prince’s knightly order.

As a result, she knew quite a bit about the knights under the First Prince’s command. Something significant had happened during this time—she was certain of it. Searching her memories of past records, she tried to recall the details.

(The knights… When I think of them, I think of Klaus, the young commander of the Royal Knights. He constantly interfered with my plans, so I had used the underworld guilds to counter him.)

Before her regression, Klaus had been an irritating enemy—meaning he was a remarkably competent knight. However, at the time, he had only recently assumed the position of knight commander.

His appointment, in fact, had not yet occurred.

(Wait… Then who was in charge before him…?)

Suddenly, the reason for Klaus’s promotion surfaced in her mind. His father, Commander Henrik, had died, and his son Klaus had taken his place.

(That’s right. I had been too consumed by grief over my mother’s death to pay much attention back then, but I remember reading about it in the records later. Yes… Prince Arnold was ambushed, and the knight commander sacrificed his life to save him.)

That meant that, in the near future, Arnold’s party would be attacked.

As she traced back the timing, Ariadne’s face paled.

The attack was set to occur during the hunting tournament, three days before the Founding Day celebrations.

(Klaus is strict but an exceptional knight. He’s a troublesome enemy but would be an invaluable ally. And, of course, so would his father, Commander Henrik.)

The attackers had all committed suicide, leaving the true mastermind unknown. But there was no doubt—the culprit was someone from the Second Prince’s faction.

Preventing this attack would not only serve as a direct blow to Siegbert but also shift the power dynamics in unexpected ways.

More importantly—

Henrik’s death had led Klaus to inherit his father’s position.

In his absence, Henrik’s wife had fought fiercely to protect their land.

For the sake of her late husband and her son, who had taken up his father’s mantle, she had defended their territory with everything she had.

And yet, Ariadne had mercilessly attacked that very land.

She had used it as leverage, threatening Klaus.

“If you don’t want to lose anyone else, stay out of my way.”

(I was truly despicable.)

That past had been erased with her regression. But her memories of it remained.

Which was why—

(I will atone for the good people I wronged. And I will have my revenge on those who used me. I will save Henrik—and make sure Siegbert tastes bitter defeat.)