The Regressed Tyrant Princess Rewrites Her Dark History - Chapter 1.21

After concluding her discussion with Arnold, Ariadne made her way to the carriage stand, preparing to return to the princess’s palace. However, as the carriage came into view from a distance, an inexplicable sense of unease washed over her.

“…Sybilla, I forgot to ask about my next appointment. Could you check with Prince Arnold for me?”

“Understood.”

After sending Sybilla off, Ariadne walked toward her carriage, accompanied by Ashley and her escorting knights. As she approached, she addressed the servant who had come to greet her.

“You are not a servant of Restour. Who are you?”

“…It is an honor to make your acquaintance, Your Highness. I am a steward serving Queen Carla.”

At those words, Wolf and the other knights at Ariadne’s side instinctively reached for their sword hilts. But before they could act, Ariadne raised a hand to stop them.

“And what business does Queen Carla’s steward have with me?”

“This is for you. A letter of invitation.”

The letter bore a wax seal marked with Carla’s emblem.

Opening it on the spot, she read the message—it was an invitation to the royal palace, effective immediately. As she scanned the contents, Wolf leaned in to whisper.

“Princess Ariadne, we are surrounded.”

“I thought as much. Do you think we can break through?”

“Not without casualties.”

“…I see.”

Ariadne gestured for Wolf to step back before turning to the steward.

“The letter does not state the purpose of this invitation. What does Queen Carla want from me?”

“She simply wishes to have a conversation with Your Highness.”

There was no guarantee she would be allowed to leave safely.

But—

(Queen Carla prefers indirect methods. She wouldn’t take the risk of assassinating a guest inside the palace. It’s only a possibility, but…)

If she resisted here, the situation would only escalate. Besides, as someone with formidable combat abilities, she had a better chance of surviving an ambush in the palace than in an open confrontation.

Considering all possibilities, Ariadne made her decision.

“Understood. I will accept the invitation.”

“…You truly have the composure of a princess.”

The steward’s eyes widened slightly in surprise.

Thus, Ariadne was escorted—unofficially—to a garden within the royal palace, where a tea table had been prepared. Carla was already waiting for her.

“This is our first time meeting in person, isn’t it, Ariadne?”

“It is an honor to meet you, Queen Carla.”

“There’s no need for formalities. Sit.”

With a flick of her hand, Carla dismissed the guards and servants.

Now left alone together, it was Ariadne who felt unsettled.

(I was certain she wouldn’t kill me here, but… does she truly have no fear of me harming her? She must know that I am engaged to Prince Arnold now…)

The engagement ceremony had not yet taken place, but word of the party’s events must have already reached Carla’s ears.

Ariadne knew Carla well enough to be sure she wouldn’t resort to direct violence. However, Carla, in turn, could not have known everything about Ariadne’s capabilities.

“Why are you hesitating? Sit down.”

“My apologies.”

Ariadne took the seat across from her.

Then, to her surprise, Carla poured the tea herself.

“Queen Carla?”

“This is a special blend, rumored to heal a body afflicted by poison. I will send some to Aria later as well. You should try it.”

Ariadne found herself staring at Carla in disbelief.

It was almost certain that the person who had attempted to poison Aria was Siegbert. Carla, of all people, should have known that.

At the very least, she was aware that Ariadne suspected as much.

(And yet, she’s offering me this tea? What is she playing at?)

If it was meant as a provocation, it was an obvious one.

However, there was no trace of amusement or malice in Carla’s expression.

One thing was clear—there was no way Ariadne would drink a tea that could possibly be laced with poison.

Politely, she thanked Carla but made no move to lift the teacup.

“…Oh? What’s the matter? Are you afraid it’s poisoned?”

Though this was not an official visit, poisoning her here would still be too risky.

But that didn’t mean Carla hadn’t slipped something into the tea—something non-lethal but dangerous nonetheless.

There was no way Ariadne would drink something so suspicious.

Shifting her gaze from the teacup to Carla, she noticed that Carla, too, had yet to drink from her own cup.

Under normal circumstances, the host would take the first sip to prove it was safe.

(I definitely cannot drink this tea.)

As Ariadne remained silent, Carla let out a small sigh.

“Ariadne, I hear that Arnold has proposed to you.”

“…Yes. It was due to my connection with former Queen Amelia, whom I saved.”

Ariadne deliberately probed, watching for Carla’s reaction.

But Carla’s expression remained utterly composed.

“Just out of curiosity, what was wrong with my son?”

To Carla, Ariadne was the daughter of her husband’s mistress.

Yet in the previous timeline, Carla had treated her kindly—at least on the surface, never once showing any hostility.

Given that, Ariadne’s response was obvious.

“I was under the impression that siblings were not allowed to marry.”

Carla’s eyes widened briefly before she let out a soft chuckle.

“That is true. In that sense, my son was not a suitable match for you. But among royals, nothing is absolute. If the will was there, you and Siegbert could have been wed.”

“…That is—”

There was no need to confirm it.

Carla was aware that the jewel-like eyes might be the proof of the true royal lineage.

“So, I see now why you chose Arnold. But did you not consider that by becoming engaged to the First Prince, you would be making an enemy of me?”

Ariadne found herself pinned by Carla’s piercing gaze.

“I’m not sure what you mean.”

“Oh? Are you really going to feign ignorance at this point?”

She was likely referring to the jewel-like eyes.

Ariadne slowly shook her head.

“Factional conflicts aside, we are all citizens of the same country. At the very least, I have no desire to turn against those who have treated me well.”

Beneath her words lay an unspoken truth—it was your son who started this fight.

She had considered the possibility that Carla might react with fury, yet instead, Carla quietly lowered her gaze.

“Perhaps you’re right. My son does have a rather impulsive nature. If that resulted in you becoming our enemy… then I suppose it was inevitable.”

A soft breath escaped Ariadne’s lips.

(Wait. Hold on a moment. Is she talking about the assassination attempt!?)

Her words seemed to imply as much. While not explicit enough to be considered an admission, it was still shocking to hear Carla suggest it at all.

The only logical conclusion was that the incident had been beyond Carla’s expectations as well.

“…Even within the same faction, internal disagreements are not uncommon.”

Ariadne subtly probed, gauging Carla’s reaction.

“…You truly don’t seem like a fifteen-year-old when I speak with you.” Carla exhaled softly before continuing, “Very well. Tell me, Ariadne, would you like to hear a little story from the past?”

“A story?”

“Yes. You see, I once loved Walter.”

Walter—the name of the late former king.

Hearing this revelation from Carla, the wife of Walter’s younger brother, left Ariadne momentarily breathless.

“Surprised? But it’s true. Though unofficial, our engagement was arranged when we were children. I was raised with the expectation that I would one day become queen.”

“…I see.”

This was something she had never heard before.

“Yes. But Walter fell in love with Amelia… and I lost everything.”

Walter had married Amelia.

In other words, because their engagement was unofficial, it had been quietly annulled.

Ariadne could only imagine how Carla must have felt.

And yet—

“That is why I sympathized with Aria.”

Ariadne blinked, caught off guard.

“What do you mean?”

“You didn’t know, did you? Raphael and Aria were in love.”

She gasped.

It was one revelation after another, leaving her struggling to keep up.

“That’s…!”

“It’s the truth. From the beginning, Raphael’s heart belonged to Aria.”

“Queen Carla… were you…?”

She couldn’t bring herself to finish the question—Did you resent them for it?

But Carla, having understood, merely laughed.

“Oh, don’t misunderstand. Raphael always treated me with respect as a political spouse. And Aria, knowing her place, never crossed any boundaries. I never resented them. If anything, I believed Aria and I could understand each other, as we had been through the same pain.”

It was difficult to believe.

And yet—

“That’s why, you see… when their child was not a son bearing the jewel-like eyes, I was truly relieved. Because if it had been a boy, I would not have been able to accept it. But with a daughter like you, I truly believed we could get along.”

Ariadne caught the underlying meaning—if she had been born a son, the situation would have been much darker.

And yet, Carla’s expression carried not only steel but a quiet sorrow.

(…In the previous timeline, she was always kind to me. I thought she was just deceiving me, like Siegbert. But perhaps…)

“Queen Carla, I—”

“Don’t misunderstand me. I am not blaming you. I respect the choices you’ve made to survive. However… regardless of how it began, I find it deeply regrettable that things have come to this.”

Carla lifted the teacup Ariadne had been wary of—

—and drained it in a single motion.

Then, with a decisive movement, she let the cup fall from her fingers.

It hit the ground, shattering into countless pieces.

“I cannot allow you to bear Prince Arnold’s child.”

In that moment, any illusion of civility between them disappeared.

They had truly become enemies.