The Regressed Tyrant Princess Rewrites Her Dark History - Chapter 1.4

The royal palace’s vast grounds housed a separate residence where former Queen Amelia and her family lived.

Inside, in one of its guest rooms, Ariadne sat under house arrest, deep in thought.

If something happened to Amelia, she would undoubtedly be in serious trouble.

However—

Fermoa poison, when mixed into wine, was rarely lethal.

In her past life, Amelia had recovered within a month.

This was a warning, not a murder attempt.

More importantly—

(This time, I administered the antidote immediately. She won’t be in danger.)

Of course, nothing was ever guaranteed.

But Ariadne remained composed, waiting calmly for the inevitable resolution.

Not long after, Prince Arnold entered the room—alone.

There were no knights accompanying him.

A gamble had paid off.

She rose gracefully and performed a flawless curtsy.

“I have been expecting you, Prince Arnold.”

“…I apologize. Given the situation, precautionary measures had to be taken.”

“Oh my, my words weren’t meant to criticize you. Rather, your presence here must mean that former Queen Amelia is safe… and that I am no longer a suspect, correct?”

“Ah… My apologies. I misunderstood your meaning.”

“Think nothing of it. Considering that Her Majesty was poisoned, detaining those involved was only natural. More than that—you likely needed to ensure my protection as well, didn’t you?”

After all, Ariadne had been the only royal to interact with Amelia immediately before the poisoning.

(If I were the mastermind, that would have been the perfect chance.)

Ariadne could have been forced into a ‘suicide’, leaving behind a ‘confession’ claiming responsibility for the poisoning.

That would bury the incident, while eliminating her as a nuisance.

(Though Siegbert would probably use a different tactic.)

He would frame her for the crime, drag her through a trial, then conveniently uncover the ‘real’ culprit—all while manipulating the narrative to make himself look benevolent.

“…You’re fifteen, aren’t you?”

His skeptical gaze met hers.

Ariadne responded with a charming smile.

To Prince Arnold, she was two years younger—a noticeable gap at this age.

But the poise and allure she carried came from a lifetime beyond this one.

It was something no ordinary fifteen-year-old girl could replicate.

Prince Arnold’s face flushed slightly.

(Oh? How adorable. This version of Prince Arnold is still so innocent.)

For a brief moment, she saw him from an older sister’s perspective.

“So… am I free to leave?”

“Yes, of course. But before that—”

“—I would like to offer my thanks as well.”

A new voice interrupted.

Amelia had arrived.

Ariadne immediately lowered herself into the most formal curtsy.

“I regret that we could not exchange proper greetings earlier.”

“It was an emergency. There’s nothing to apologize for. More importantly, I must thank you for saving my life. And—I have a question for you.”

“Please, ask me anything.”

At Amelia’s suggestion, they moved to a reception room—

And not just any reception room.

This was one used for high-ranking guests.

A luxurious carpet, thick enough for one’s feet to sink into, covered the floor.

At the center sat a marble table, surrounded by plush sofas that threatened to swallow the body with their softness.

Amelia sat opposite Ariadne, with Prince Arnold positioned diagonally across from them.

“First, I must thank you once again, Princess Ariadne. Thanks to your swift response, I am alive today. I will not forget this debt.”

This was Amelia, a woman who had protected her position after the death of the former king, resisting every move of the current one.

Receiving her personal gratitude was a rare honor.

In the past, Ariadne would have been ecstatic.

So—

“To hear such words from you, former Queen Amelia, is an honor beyond measure!”

She clasped her hands together, her face lighting up with childish delight.

Amelia raised an eyebrow.

“…Oh? You seem quite pleased. If I recall correctly, your father is King Raphael, isn’t he?”

“Yes, but I’ve never met him.”

A probe.

A test to see whether Ariadne leaned toward the Second Prince’s faction.

She dismissed it with casual innocence.

As if she were just a child with no understanding of politics.

Amelia’s gaze narrowed slightly.

“Ah, that’s right. You bear the name of Restour. Then, let me ask you another question.”

“Of course.”

“When you tasted the wine, you immediately identified Fermoa poison. And you had an antidote with you. Why?”

Her tone sharpened.

This—

This was the real question.

Ariadne’s conveniently timed intervention had made her suspicious.

But this was expected.

She already had her answer prepared.

“…The same poison was used on my mother.”

“—!”

Amelia’s lips parted slightly in shock.

Even Prince Arnold tensed.

“Lady Aria?”

“Yes. I had noticed the increased commotion in the Restour Palace, but I had no idea it was something so grave…”

(She didn’t know.)

(Not because of a lack of intelligence, but because she had no interest in the Restour family.)

In Amelia’s eyes, Ariadne had never been significant enough to warrant concern.

That needed to change.

If she was to survive, she had to become someone they couldn’t ignore.

“Is Lady Aria all right?” Prince Arnold asked, his expression serious.

“She barely survived. But… the damage was severe. It’s uncertain whether she will recover.”

“That’s…”

Ariadne let a sad smile cross her lips.

Prince Arnold lowered his gaze, regretful.

Watching him, Amelia snapped her fan shut with a sharp clap.

“My son was out of line.”

“Not at all, former Queen Amelia. There is no need for concern.”

She reached into her dress and withdrew several vials.

Prince Arnold, still flushed, immediately turned his head away.

Amelia let out a small chuckle.

Ariadne had their attention now.

And she wasn’t about to waste it.

The reason for carrying the antidote was understandable. But why, despite such circumstances, did you decide to attend my soirée?”

Of course, Ariadne couldn’t say, “Because I knew you were going to be poisoned.”

Nor could she admit, “Because Siegbert is targeting me, and I wanted to earn your favor so the First Prince’s faction would protect me.”

Instead, she calmly delivered the pre-prepared excuse she had crafted.

“…My mother often told me, ‘If anything happens to me, seek out former Queen Amelia.’”

“Lady Aria said that?”

“Yes. Though she never explained why…”

There was no need to add any unnecessary explanations.

If Amelia truly was the formidable woman history claimed her to be, she would connect the dots and assume that Lady Aria had been wary of the Second Prince’s faction—exactly what Ariadne wanted her to believe.

“…I see. That explains a great deal. And I must thank your mother. It is because of her words that I was saved. Of course, I must also thank you for following them.”

Amelia’s gaze softened as she looked at Ariadne.

(It seems she arrived at the answer I wanted her to. More than that, perhaps she sees me as at least competent enough to follow through on my mother’s wishes.)

Had she realized that Ariadne had orchestrated everything, she would have become suspicious.

But if she saw Ariadne only as a dutiful daughter following orders, then she wouldn’t suspect her of any deeper schemes.

And the next natural target for suspicion would be Lady Aria—who was currently bedridden, making her unable to act.

Everything was going exactly as Ariadne had planned.

“Now then, Princess Ariadne—do you have any requests for me?”

“Requests?”

Ariadne had her answer ready, but she feigned hesitation.

“I wouldn’t mind making you my son’s fiancée.”

Prince Arnold choked on air.

“M-Mother!? What are you saying?! That’s far too sudden! Surely, Princess Ariadne would find such a suggestion troubling!”

“Calm yourself, Arnold. I was joking.”

“A…A joke? O-Of course. Yes. That makes sense… Ha…haha…”

“Though you don’t seem particularly opposed to the idea, Princess Ariadne.”

Amelia turned back to Ariadne, her gaze keen.

Ariadne smiled.

“…Truthfully, I have considered such an arrangement.”

“—P-Princess Ariadne?!”

Prince Arnold’s voice cracked in disbelief.

Amelia, on the other hand, remained perfectly composed.

She simply gestured for Ariadne to continue.

“As I mentioned, my mother is bedridden. Seizing this opportunity, the Second Prince’s faction has attempted to interfere. I would like you to prevent that.”

“You’re proposing a political exchange?”

Ariadne shook her head slowly.

“It would be ideal, but I wouldn’t dare make such a shameless request. At present, I am unworthy of becoming Prince Arnold’s fiancée.”

“…Well, that may be true.”

“Yes. Which is why, for now, I simply ask that you block their interference.”

Originally, Ariadne had planned to negotiate more carefully.

However, Amelia’s sudden poisoning had thrown everything off course.

This was a contingency plan, a second-best option.

“Blocking their interference, hmm? But if I do that, others will assume you’ve aligned yourself with the First Prince’s faction. Wouldn’t that put you in greater danger?”

“Eventually, I plan to support Prince Arnold. But now is not the time. Which is why this is a selfish request, and I ask it with great reluctance…”

“Ah, I see now. You wish to maintain neutrality, but if I, the former queen whose life you saved, publicly show favor toward you, it would naturally deter the Second Prince’s faction.”

Ariadne remained silent.

It was an incredibly selfish request—

One she couldn’t outright confirm, yet also couldn’t deny.

She simply met Amelia’s gaze, waiting.

“…Then tell me one thing. In your heart, what do you truly think of the Second Prince?”

Ariadne smiled.

It was a normal smile—at first glance.

But anyone who looked closely would see the hatred buried within it.

Amelia’s eyes widened slightly.

Then, she covered her mouth with her fan and let out a soft, knowing laugh.

“I see… I see. Very well. I shall support you, from the shadows.”

“I am deeply grateful.”

Ariadne spoke with utmost politeness, using an old-fashioned phrase reserved for expressing the highest gratitude.

“No need to thank me. This is simply my repayment. Now then, tell me exactly how they are interfering.”

“Yes. Currently, Prince Siegbert has expressed ‘concern’ over the management of the Restour Palace. He has requested control over the appointment of my maids.”

“How shameless. A person’s control over their own household staff is a matter of survival. To demand such a thing—how bold of him.”

“Can I count on you to block him?”

“I will handle it. However, in return, you must accept a maid of my choosing.”

A liaison, in name.

But in reality, she would be a spy.

It was exactly what Siegbert had attempted.

But Ariadne had expected this.

And unlike the reckless spies the Second Prince might send, Amelia’s agent would be far more professional.

It wasn’t a bad deal.

“I have no objections.”

“Then it’s settled. Leave the rest to me.”

Ariadne bowed in gratitude and left the room.

As her figure disappeared down the corridor, Prince Arnold turned to his mother.

“Mother, is this truly wise? If we support Princess Ariadne under these conditions, the court may see it as an attempt to forcibly absorb the Restour royal line into our faction.”

“Which would only make our repayment all the more effective. Besides…”

Amelia paused, recalling their conversation.

At times, Ariadne spoke like an adult.

At others, she showed childish tendencies.

Most would assume she was simply a girl trying to act mature, accidentally revealing her true nature in moments of stress.

But if that were the case—

She would have panicked when Amelia was poisoned.

She would have frozen, overwhelmed by the situation.

Yet—

Ariadne had remained the most composed of all.

(That is her true self.)

(Which means she is deliberately acting like a child to lower others’ guard… a level of maturity far beyond her years. It’s unthinkable, but—)

Amelia tapped her folded fan against her palm.

There was no doubt—Ariadne was no ordinary girl.

And when she had asked about Siegbert—

The hatred Ariadne had revealed was real.

Given the attack on Lady Aria, the implications were clear.

Amelia didn’t know why they were being targeted.

But—

“She is worth supporting. Depending on how things unfold, we may truly consider a marriage alliance.”

She turned to her son.

“So, Arnold—be sure to get along with her.”

“W-What are you implying?!”

Watching her son’s obvious fluster, Amelia chuckled softly.