Chapter 50
A Thrilling Wedding!
Daphne tried to pry Celestian’s thumb and pinky apart to free her skirt, but her eyes fell on the long, straight scar etched across his palm.
In the novel she had read in her previous life, the “villainess” who lived to the bitter end met her death aboard this very ship.
Romeo, in a fit of rage, had abandoned her near an island teeming with crocodiles, leaving her body unrecovered.
The scene had been so vividly gruesome that it still lingered in Daphne’s mind.
She gently brushed aside the golden hair falling over Celestian’s eyes, murmuring to herself.
“But there’s no way he’d know that.”
An inexplicable tension crept up her arm, sending shivers down her spine. Daphne stubbornly ignored the unease.
*****
When Daphne opened her eyes, she was greeted by an elegant ceiling papered with geometric designs. In her dazed state, she recalled the dream she had just had.
“What does dreaming of falling off a cliff mean again? That you’ll grow taller?”
She turned her head to find a stunning face resting mere inches from her own, his long lashes casting delicate shadows.
Despite his flawless appearance, Celestian’s hair was unstyled, unlike the night before. Evidently, he had woken up briefly without her noticing.
“I’m sure he was just lying on top of the blanket.”
Somehow, she had ended up properly tucked under the covers while he remained outside them, leaning toward her in his sleep.
Curious, Daphne cautiously lifted the blanket. Thankfully, her clothes were exactly as they had been before she fell asleep. Satisfied, she brushed off a vague sense of disappointment and got up to open the curtains.
The horizon was already glowing white as the sun rose over the sea.
“It’s not even my wedding, but I’m excited,” she muttered.
Opening the window, the brilliant light reflected off the waves dazzled her. The sky was vividly blue, and the salty, fresh scent of the sea filled the air, clearing away any lingering traces of last night’s drinks.
As Daphne busied herself preparing to leave, Celestian remained sound asleep, not stirring in the slightest. Returning to the bed, she tucked the blanket snugly around him.
—I don’t want to wake up to find you gone.
“Stay put and sleep until I’m back. I’ll only be gone two hours.”
It was just past 6 a.m., early enough that this half-prince of a man wouldn’t wake until well after 10. She could easily return before then.
“Wait. Why am I trying to accommodate him?”
Her hand, poised to brush his cheek, froze. Resting her knuckles on her hip, she gazed down at the intoxicated prince who had murmured those cryptic words the night before. Shaking her head, she turned away.
—This place has always been dangerous for you.
Dangerous? What did he mean?
Even as she reached the cabin door, Daphne hesitated for a moment. But wasn’t it proper etiquette to pretend drunken words hadn’t been spoken?
Resolving not to dwell on it, she confidently stepped out and made her way to meet Iel, who would assist her with the day’s preparations.
*****
Iel Algeste was waiting for Daphne with swollen eyes.
“How could he lose everything? Does that even make sense? If it looks like you’re going to lose, you should stop! Men need to let go of their useless pride. Do you even know how much all that was worth?”
Iel lamented for the entire hour she helped Daphne, mourning the loss of all the wealth she had painstakingly gathered.
“I even told him, ‘If you’re going to lose everything, at least bring back the Zella ticket,’ but he managed to lose that too?”
“Iel, uh, my scalp feels like it’s about to tear.”
“Well, guess what? He shamelessly asked Grand Duke Theriosa if they could exchange it instead. No sense of dignity at all!”
“I’m pretty sure my head’s about to pop off. You’ve got quite the grip…”
Finally, Iel’s hands released their grip. Daphne took the opportunity to check herself in the mirror.
Iel had skillful hands, honed during a brief stint as a palace maid—a job she took to secretly save up for a trip with her childhood sweetheart from the ballet troupe.
Daphne’s red hair was styled with thin braids framing her ears, while the rest flowed straight down her back. Iel brushed the strands carefully, letting out deep sighs as she worked.
“By the way, it seems Grand Duke Theriosa even managed to humble His Royal Highness the Crown Prince. They say he didn’t even do much, but he still ended up monopolizing all the chips.”
“Really?”
“Why would I lie about that?”
Only after the finishing touches did Daphne shiver a bit, clenching and unclenching her fists since the accessories in her hair left her unable to touch her head.
“Daph, your dress is beautiful.”
Daphne’s off-shoulder dress was understated despite the time and money spent on it. Starting in white and deepening into a rich blue toward the hem, the silk shimmered faintly in sunlight, dusted with finely ground pearls.
“And Psyche, how bold of her to send us an invitation. No shame at all.”
For someone saying that, Iel seemed to have enjoyed the first day immensely.
‘The invitation was sent by the royal family.’
Daphne had essentially stowed away with sheer determination, but she didn’t say anything and just smiled faintly.
Now that she thought about it, she understood why she hadn’t received an invitation. Even Iel, one of her closest acquaintances, resented Psyche, so what would Psyche’s admirers think of Daphne?
Not to mention she’d brought along a man who opposed the succession.
‘Honestly, I’m the shameless one. I wouldn’t have a leg to stand on if they threw me off the bow.’
Daphne also recalled Psyche’s voice offering to be a bridesmaid at her wedding. Honestly, she doubted that would ever be feasible.
“They said he actually asked Theriosa, ‘Can you at least let me keep this one thing?’ Ugh, it’s embarrassing just to hear about it!”
Iel’s lover was a sailor in the Secradion navy. That he even tried lobbying a traitor for Iel’s sake was both touching and amusing to Daphne, who couldn’t help but chuckle.
“So, what did Celestian say?”
“Oh, he told him to ask you. Said it’s yours.”
“Well, yeah, it’s in my hands, so it’s mine~”
Daphne crossed her legs and struck a smug pose. Even her white Mary Jane shoes came from that workshop.
Iel’s eyes sparkled. Their playful back-and-forth about whether Daphne would hand them over dragged on for a few minutes, with Iel adorably begging and Daphne cheekily refusing.
“By the way, shouldn’t we deck out Grand Duke Theriosa as well?”
“Why?”
Daphne rested her chin on her fist, pondering briefly before a loud snap of realization.
She’d almost forgotten—her goal here was to see Celestian crumble into tears!
“To rile up ‘Her Royal Highness the Crown Princess,’ of course.”
Iel smirked, and Daphne frowned. It was Celestian, not Psyche, who deserved to feel miserable.
“Iel, have you forgotten? I’m not about to use the man I like just to make some petty point.”
“Oh…”
Daphne exaggerated a pout, imitating Romeo’s lament, and Iel, quick to catch on, looked apologetic.
“Besides, she’s pretty enough without trying.”
“Quiet and just bring him here. I’ll style him to match whatever suit he has.”
“What’s gotten into you?”
“I’ll take five pairs of Zella shoes as payment for this favor.”
“You opportunist!”
As Daphne and Iel giggled at each other, the cabin bell rang. Its impatient chime repeated four or five times, making Daphne frown.
“Miss Buchanan, are you in there?”
The voice outside sounded urgent. When Daphne opened the door, a pale sailor stood there.
“Yes?”
“It seems your companion is looking for you. That is…”
“My companion?”
Daphne leaned forward to glance outside, but the sailor stepped back.
The hallway was empty. The sailor stammered, saying he needed to check something, and Daphne asked Iel to wait before following him.
Down the stairs from the VIP cabin, then further down to an unused floor where few people ventured, the sailor led her.
‘Where is he taking me?’
A strange unease gripped her. The long ceiling light flickered with a buzz, adding to the eerie atmosphere. Daphne crossed her arms, holding herself for comfort.
“Is this your companion?” the sailor asked, pointing to a corner.
Daphne froze in place.
“No way.”
“Pardon?”
In the rarely traveled corridor leading to the third-class seating, a large man sat hunched over, his hands pressed against his temples, staring at the floor.
‘Why are bad feelings always right?’
As she approached, his silhouette grew clearer. Familiar. Her jaw dropped slightly.
“It seems so. Why is the prince here? And barefoot, no less…”
The sailor shook his head cluelessly. Daphne waved him off and instinctively scanned their surroundings. Luckily, the floor was deserted.
“Cele.”
As she called his name and approached, Celestian lifted his head. His eyes, already red, were swollen as though he’d been crying.
“What are you doing here? Hungover? Get up before someone sees you.”
Daphne extended a hand, but his furrowed brow and disdainful look made her hesitate. Ignoring her, Celestian stood on his own.
His towering height forced Daphne to take a step back to maintain distance.
“I told you to wait a little, Your Highness.”
“You…”
You?
“Was it so hard to say something before leaving?”
Celestian closed the gap she’d created, forcing her to crane her neck uncomfortably to meet his gaze. Strangely, though, his anger seemed rooted in fear.
‘This is a little scary… or maybe he’s the one who’s scared.’
She fought the urge to hug him. His green eyes, once luminous even in the dark, now seemed dulled, like moss submerged in stagnant water.
“I was in Miss Algeste’s cabin getting ready. And where would I go on a ship? What’s gotten into you?”
“Why…”
His grip tightened around her arms, as if checking for injuries or confirming she was real. The heat of his hands lingered uncomfortably.
‘Oh.’
It dawned on Daphne that this was the first time Celestian had touched her directly, not just her clothing or belongings. The pressure on her arms was intense.
“I told you this place is dangerous.”
“Your Highness, could you stop panicking for a moment and calm down?”
His large hands tightened further, making her wince.
“Cele, you’re hurting me.”
“Why won’t you listen? Should I explain?”
He pulled her into his shadow, close enough for her to count the flecks in his irises.
Daphne instinctively felt that whatever he was about to say, she wouldn’t want to hear it.
“You’re here…”
“Let me guess—you dreamed I died last night?”
Before he could finish, Daphne interrupted him.
“Oh.”
He blinked, as if waking up from a trance. Slowly, the focus returned to his green eyes as he blinked several times.
Daphne yanked her arm free with a swing.
“So that’s it? Did you dream of my death, Celestian?”
For a moment, Celestian looked at his now-empty hand like a boy who had lost something precious. He seemed truly shaken.
