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

Whenever it happened, I knew that one day Tristan would ask me, “Do you go to the Sacred Salon?”

Whether it was about what bets I had exchanged with Rick or what kind of relationship I had with him... I had anticipated receiving such an embarrassing question.

But why did it have to be today? At this very moment?

And in a way that involved following me, no less.

Tristan, you really are...!

“Lady, my apologies.”

“Huh?”

A staff member urgently clamped a hand over my mouth and dragged me backward. Strong, too!

“Madam, I don’t know what’s going on, but please calm yourself. If a disturbance occurs, the guests still inside the salon won’t be able to respond properly!”

“……”

It was only then that I realized my hands were awkwardly raised as if I were about to grab Tristan by the collar.

What was I doing? Rushing at him—and then what?

As I lowered my hands, the staff member let out a small sigh of relief.

“We’ll escort you home as quickly as possible. I apologize for the inconvenience.”

“…Alright.”

“If you wish, I can carry you.”

“I can walk.”

We walked together for quite some time.

At the end of what felt like an endlessly winding alleyway, I finally reached a road I recognized.

It was late, and there were few people around.

The staff member let out a sigh, seemingly relieved now that I was safe.

“Phew… You may remove your mask now. I will accompany you to your residence.”