Chapter 85
The Absolute Wild Lady
Daphne let out a shaky breath, her hand over her startled chest.
“Could you please make some noise when you walk?”
“Mm.”
Celestian replied with the same flat, emotionless tone. It wasn’t even a real “yes”—just a meaningless filler sound. Daphne jerked her chin toward the opposite side.
“Would you move? I need to pass.”
“Is there even time to go to Herbon?”
“What?”
“Seems like you ought to spend that time relearning your manners.”
Daphne took a step back, feeling a strange sense of déjà vu at the cold voice brushing past her ear.
She glanced over her shoulder. The two serenading macaroon-munchers had apparently fled the scene—there wasn’t a single soul in sight.
Celestian snapped his fingers, a sharp click between his thumb and forefinger. It was a signal—he was calling her attention.
“When you talk to someone, you should look at them, Lady Beaucater.”
“Celestian Theriosa, what’s with you all of a sudden?”
When Daphne took one more step back, Celestian raised a brow—clearly annoyed.
****
“What’s up with that Archduke? Why’s he mad?”
Narid asked, nudging Kisha, who was peeking through a gap just wide enough to spy without the employer couple noticing.
“Oh, he’s not mad. When we went to the tailor’s, I gave the Archduke a few tips. In return for the new sword.”
“He’s not mad?”
Kisha, clearly in love with his pure gold sword, gave it a tight hug and spun around gleefully. Narid grimaced at the display and leaned away.
“What kind of tips?”
“Simple. ‘Our lady likes it when you look angry, Your Grace. Why not try acting a little intimidating~’—that kind of tip.”
“What if it backfires? What if he goes back to how he was before and tells her to call you to subdue him? You’d actually die this time.”
“Come on, Narid. You’ve been with the lady for ages too—think about it. She’s changed since back then, hasn’t she?”
“……”
“She’s definitely softened. And you know why?”
Narid seemed to consider Kisha’s words, tilting his head back to stare at the ceiling. Then, wordlessly, he held up his fist.
“Kisha Serenade, you really are my little brother. You’re so wicked.”
“Buy me macarons.”
Kisha winked with his uninjured eye and bumped fists with Narid. Then, as if they’d made some silent agreement, they both went right back to sticking to the door like peas in a pod, spying on their employers inside.
****
Daphne frowned slightly, mulling over what Celestian had said.
He told me to relearn my manners?
She had every intention of just backing off—but she changed her mind. Crossing her arms with a scowl, she stared at Celestian.
“You’re a guest in my house, Your Highness. Why are you telling me, the host, to relearn manners?”
“I told you before—if necessary, you can just walk around me on those legs of yours.”
His tone was as cold and flat as ever, without the slightest rise or fall.
Ha. He’s pouting again, isn’t he? This prince is definitely acting up.
Still, the frozen look on Celestian’s face made Daphne’s heart pound in the weirdest way.
“Sounds like you’re the one who needs a refresher on etiquette, Prince. Oh, I know.”
“……”
“This ‘brat of a lady’ has to go to Herbon, so how about you stay here and take etiquette lessons in my place? I’ve had it drilled into me since I could walk and I’m sick to death of it.”
Daphne stepped back, just like Celestian had said, moving with her own two legs. But then—he grabbed her dress and spun her around, pulling her into his arms so quickly she nearly fell into his chest.
Whoa, he’s strong.
The pull was sudden but smooth, and the arm around her back was firm—rock solid, even.
She blinked slowly, looking up at him. The coldness was gone from Celestian’s face, replaced by green eyes full of something like hurt.
“You just said… you were going to leave me.”
“Did I?”
Daphne quickly straightened up. The prince, eyes narrowed, was still holding her left wrist. She tried to shake him off, but instead, he pulled her in even closer.
Now pressed against his chest, Daphne tilted her head back. Normally, she’d have headbutted his smug nose without hesitation—but today wasn’t normal.
She rolled her golden eyes to the side, avoiding his gaze. His lips were too close, too straight in her line of sight.
“Say etiquette one more time and I’ll bury you in the Serenade family plot.”
A crash course with Killian Serenade might’ve turned even the worst brat into a paragon of virtue in no time. Just thinking about her godfather’s lessons made her shudder.
“Why won’t you look at me?”
“Because I don’t want to.”
“Even if you don’t want to, you should. That’s basic conversation etiquette, Lady Beaucater.”
When he said “Beau”, his lips pushed forward—and for some reason, that image popped into Daphne’s head. She tried to shake off his hand again, but now he grabbed her other wrist too.
“Normal people don’t have conversations like this.”
“We’re lovers, aren’t we?”
He lowered his head and whispered in her ear. Daphne swallowed hard, startled.
Whatever the prince had eaten that morning, it had clearly messed him up, because she had no idea what was going on.
But not long after, the devilish face of Kisha Serenade popped into her mind.
Kisha, that little…
What she hated even more was the fact that—being held like this—she didn’t actually hate it.
She could tell too well that the heat rising to her face wasn’t from anger but something else entirely, and squeezed her eyes shut.
“Don’t skip over what you just said, Your Highness.”
“What word?”
“Lovers.”
“Ah… that.”
Daphne dipped her head to stop her lips from twitching at the surge of confusing feelings.
“My wrists hurt.”
She didn’t really want to reject this moment—but pride demanded she say something. So she forced out a whisper like squeezing water from a stone. Celestian loosened his grip a little but didn’t let go.
—Anyone can see that man likes you now.
Loren’s words echoed like divine truth in her ears.
The warmth of the man’s body pressed against her was so comforting, it made her want to melt into him.
Ugh, should I just kiss him and then pretend nothing happened?
Daphne realized this whole situation was probably just him messing with her—and so, driven by that same excuse of “just playing,” she wanted to act on impulse too.
She was just gathering the last few seconds of courage, about to glance at his lips—
“Miss, everything’s ready! We’ve got a train to catch—get in the car, quick!”
“Oh—right!”
The back door burst open without warning, and Daphne shoved him away instinctively.
Misha looked between Celestian—clearly annoyed—and Daphne, hands planted firmly against his chest.
“What did you do to our lady?”
“Nothing.”
If anything, it was Daphne who’d been about to do something.
“Don’t lie, you damned traitor! You don’t even have feelings for her and you dare—!”
Misha’s voice was slightly raised, and his brow furrowed in rage. As he stormed forward, Kisha suddenly appeared and hooked an arm around his neck.
“Little bro, you’re her secretary. Why are you so blind in these situations?”
“Yeah, seriously. Out of all of us, why are you the only one who’s so clueless…”
Misha, gasping as the chokehold tightened, shut his eyes and flailed in desperation, slapping at Kisha’s arm.
*****
By the time Daphne and her group had safely boarded the train bound for Herbon—
Maril, who had been cleaning up the teapots at the Beaucater marquisate, turned around at the sound of footsteps.
“Your Highness, the Crown Princess.”
“Hello, Head Butler.”
“Have you still not returned to the palace?”
Maril straightened his posture as he looked toward Psyche, who stood in the kitchen doorway.
Her face was visibly puffy, her lemon-colored hair slightly disheveled, and she was still wearing the same clothes from the day before. She looked nothing like the dignified Crown Princess of a kingdom. Psyche seemed to know this herself, as she clumsily combed her fingers through her hair and asked politely,
“…I’ve been sleeping a lot lately. Where’s Daphne?”
Last night, Psyche had chosen to stay in the guest room instead of returning to the palace, saying she wanted to speak with Daphne again in the morning. It was a choice that required no one’s permission.
But Daphne had only said “take care,” and hadn’t suggested setting a time to talk again. Psyche remembered Daphne’s tired, annoyed expression—the look of someone who just wanted to get rid of her as quickly as possible—and a wave of lightheadedness passed over her.
“Please call Daphne. I can’t just go to her room.”
“Your Highness. If you and the lady hadn’t set a specific time to meet, then I believe it’s time for you to return to the palace.”
Maril’s words felt like a reprimand, and Psyche felt a subtle pressure weighing down on her. To escape that feeling, she took a shallow breath and looked down at the red carpet.
“And Lady Daphne departed at noon for an overseas business trip.”
“…What did you just say?”
The words struck Psyche’s ears like stones—far from the answer she had hoped for. Her frown deepened as she stared straight ahead.
