Chapter 63
Withdrawal Symptoms
The moment the two blonde beauties locked eyes, they simultaneously frowned.
“How nice of you to wander around when you have such a lovely palace.”
With blue eyes devoid of light, Celestian smirked slightly.
“I sleep with my husband, you know.”
At the mere mention of Romeo, a faint sparkle returned to her eyes—only to vanish again as she cast a disdainful glance at Celestian.
Still, Celestian unwillingly learned something he hadn’t cared to know. Raising his bound hands, he brushed the back of his left hand against his ear.
“Then why go to such extravagant lengths to redecorate it?”
“It was a wedding gift from Daphne, actually.”
“I meant to say, it’s very beautiful.”
Celestian quickly corrected himself.
“Renovating the Queen’s Palace was purely symbolic. It means forgetting the previous queen and waiting for a new one.”
“Confident, aren’t you?”
“And it’s also where the late Queen Rose was confined until her passing. Do you think Romeo and Daphne would ever let me sleep in such a place?”
Celestian glanced at the white parasol the crown princess was holding.
“It’s not even raining, but the future queen is certainly meticulous.”
“Oh, it will rain. Soon you’ll be the only one drenched like a miserable beast. Ah, don’t bother staying warm.”
“I won’t catc—”
“Hopefully, you’ll die of a fever.”
With a calm expression, she countered Celestian’s jabs.
“How did you get out?”
“The door behind the staircase. It was incredibly weak.”
Psyche froze for a moment before shaking her head dismissively.
“I heard you threw a tantrum in Daphne’s room because you weren’t given a townhouse of your own. Still as ill-mannered as ever.”
Celestian pursed his lips, displeased by how his intentions were being so twisted.
‘Thought you’d let me share your bed if I did.’
But, recognizing how childish it had been, he chose to stay silent.
His cheeks tingled with embarrassment. Yet, raising and lowering his hands repeatedly would look ridiculous, so he kept still.
“Breaking into someone’s house… is that just part of being a traitor?”
“How many times do I have to say it? I have no interest in Lefonso. Treason? That’s an incredibly unfair accusation.”
“You once said you wanted Lefonso’s recognition and a chance to become king.”
Celestian blinked his green eyes innocently.
‘Did I say that?’
His opportunity for a fresh start had come on his twentieth birthday. It was the same this time.
Just a month before he was reinstated as a prince.
‘I might have thought that when I was really young.’
But all his goals had revolved around Daphne for as long as he could remember, so his life before regression was a blur.
“That wasn’t who I am now. As you said.”
Psyche furrowed her brow.
“Will you let me leave now?”
Celestian wanted to see Daphne, who had always been bustling around wherever he looked.
She hadn’t been visible for days, and it had affected even his sleep.
A faint headache forced him to squeeze his eyes shut momentarily.
Three days without food or rest wasn’t particularly hard. But the withdrawal symptoms from being away from Daphne had left his nerves on edge.
So much so that he could have strangled the woman in front of him without hesitation.
But he wouldn’t do something that would disappoint Daphne.
‘Not this time.’
Celestian took a deep breath.
“My palace is the safest place for you. The moment you’re discovered, you’ll be killed.”
“I know this palace’s layout. I can leave without being caught.”
Celestian had once been the master of this Pladial Palace. Though he hadn’t foreseen such variables.
“Well, you’ve already been caught by me.”
“Not if you keep your mouth shut. Just like I’m pretending not to know about you.”
Psyche’s eyes widened. Whether she cared or not, Celestian closed one eye and tried to recall the past.
Psyche Denver, always brimming with ambition, her face a mask of pretense that never revealed her true feelings.
“Have you ever told Daphne about me?”
“Denver.”
“It’s Crown Princess, to you. I’m no longer that wretched Denver but Rodriguez. The title you so desperately wanted.”
Her icy gaze pierced through him.
A breeze, heavy with the scent of grass, blew between Celestian and Psyche.
“Yes, Denver.”
He raised the corners of his lips.
It wasn’t meant as teasing, but anger flashed in Psyche’s icy blue eyes.
Celestian turned his head briefly—he had no desire to see such an expression on anyone but Daphne.
“Becoming Rodriguez was all thanks to Daphne, wasn’t it?”
“Thanks to Daphne?”
Celestian looked back at Psyche, curious about what nonsense she might spout next.
“Maybe.”
Contrary to his expectation of a sharp retort, Psyche lowered her blue eyes.
To Celestian, even that gesture seemed feigned, and he raised an eyebrow.
“Let me ask again. Did you tell Daphne about me?”
Psyche, looking like someone uneasy, fiddled with the handle of her parasol multiple times. Celestian eyed it closely, wondering if it was truly just a parasol—after all, the Denver family carried swords disguised as umbrellas.
“What exactly?”
“You know what.”
As a matter of fact, Celestian did know why Psyche was uneasy.
It was simple.
Psyche had killed her own father.
She had laced the drinking water for the entire Denver household with a sleeping agent, then set the place ablaze, killing everyone. And she had pinned all of it on Celestian.
By playing the victim, she had fooled everyone, even Daphne.
The only witness was Celestian, who had been near Tenzen at the time. As long as he kept silent, Psyche would be safe, surrounded by those who adored her. The safest option would be to eliminate him entirely.
‘I never asked to see any of this in the first place.’
If he could turn back time, he would’ve avoided any involvement with Psyche altogether.
‘Maybe I should’ve pretended to lose my memory.’
Right now, he wanted nothing more than to hit his head hard enough to erase every memory he had.
Daphne’s misunderstanding—that his heart lay with another woman—seemed to stem from Psyche Denver’s strange obsession with him.
‘How did Daphne come to believe such nonsense?’
Celestian sighed, tilting his head back. The swirling gray clouds looked ready to burst with rain.
“Aren’t you grateful that I’ve kept quiet until now?”
“It’s a shame, really. If only you’d hanged yourself back then, I would’ve been so grateful.”
“……”
“Everyone who knew about me is dead, except for you.”
He no longer wanted to waste words on this infuriating woman. The urge to willingly return to the prison behind him grew stronger.
Celestian glanced at Psyche one last time before turning toward the direction she had entered from, though he knew he’d end up back where she was.
“Idiot.”
Psyche smirked mockingly, lifting only the left corner of her lips.
“You’re so irritating.”
What Psyche held wasn’t a sword. She opened her umbrella with a snap, shielding herself from the drizzle, her pink lips continuing to move.
“It’s disgusting how you look at Daphne. She’s my friend, you know.”
“You, pretending to be innocent and ignorant, aren’t exactly blameless yourself, Denver.”
“But I know when you were sneaking glances at Daphne.”
Celestian scowled.
“Do you think you were the only stalker trailing after Daphne? Lurking behind her, calling it love—how pathetic.”
Psyche’s gaze shifted to a point slightly above and behind Celestian. A fleeting smile crossed her face, but when Celestian tilted his head, her expression hardened as her view was obstructed.
“Daphne.”
“What?”
“What are you scheming with Daphne? Or rather, why would Daphne fall for someone like you? My friend has never once looked at another man. Until the national founding festival two years ago, she only talked about becoming queen.”
That was Psyche Denver’s real problem.
She talked too much.
“If you’re so annoyed, bring a sword and kill me already.”
“Oh, do you think I haven’t considered it? But staining my perfect new home with your blood would be so distasteful.”
If she could actually kill him, Celestian would gladly offer his neck.
“Do you know what’s happened to Daphne while you’ve been locked up for three days?”
Psyche furrowed her brows with an expression of feigned sadness. The mention of Daphne’s name made Celestian tilt his head.
“How would I know? Tell me.”
“I don’t want to. After all, there’s nothing you can do about it.”
“Damn it, what am I supposed to do, then?”
“I already told you. You can’t protect Daphne. Not as a traitor.”
The light drizzle began to fall more steadily, rustling as it hit the ground.
“You should’ve stayed put.”
Psyche pulled out a necklace from around her neck, using it to release the shackles on his wrists. Celestian instinctively took a step back as she moved closer, but she grabbed his arm with surprising strength.
“Don’t pull away. If I scream, there are people right behind you who’ll come running. And Daphne will face greater disgrace for loving you. I wouldn’t want that, of course.”
It was clear she intended to keep him within her reach. Psyche gripped his arm tightly, ensuring he couldn’t escape her radius.
“I even arranged for Daphne to come see you, but you’ve thrown away your chance to leave with her.”
Celestian frowned, puzzled by her words.
Psyche, her blue eyes dark under the shadow of the umbrella, stared at him with an unyielding gaze before lowering the umbrella briefly. In that fleeting moment, she effortlessly transformed her expression.
With a bashful, radiant smile, she stepped closer and held the umbrella over Celestian as well.
“Unsettling.”
Celestian muttered under his breath, furrowing his delicate brows. Psyche glanced sidelong at the space near his head. Beneath the umbrella’s shadow, her face returned to its usual emotionless state.
“Daphne is watching.”
At her words, Celestian instinctively turned to look behind him. His face was a mix of fleeting hope and sorrow, hoping that Daphne had truly come for him.
