Chapter 10
What’s With Her Now?
“Is this how a mother feels when she leaves a sick child at home to go to work?”
Daphne checked her wristwatch, tapping her arm in time with the ticking second hand.
Knock, knock. After the sound of a polite knock, the carriage door swung open abruptly.
“Daph.”
Even under the dim light of the carriage, Psyche, who quickly gets drunk even on low-alcohol champagne, had cheeks flushed red like baby fists.
“Hello Psyche.”
“It’s been a while…”
Thanks to Romeo, who had promised to let them talk alone and even dismissed the footman who was supposed to escort them, Daphne got out of the carriage and extended her hand to Psyche. Psyche smiled shyly and grasped Daphne’s hand tightly with her small one.
Psyche naturally rested her arm on Daphne’s arm and leaned her head on her shoulder. The refreshing scent of grapes tickled her nose.
After ensuring that Psyche was safely seated, Daphne was about to take a seat opposite her. But Psyche, tapping the spot next to her, made Daphne sigh-laugh and sit beside her instead.
Psyche naturally looped her arm through Daphne’s and leaned her head on her shoulder. A refreshing grape scent wafted to Daphne’s nose.
“If we arrive at the palace like this without saying anything, it’ll mean we’re reconciled.”
Daphne silently prayed that the drunken Psyche would fall asleep quickly.
“Daphne, Theriosa…”
But that wasn’t going to happen. Just hearing the name “Daphne Theriosa” pronounced in such a pretty voice sent shivers down her spine.
“Are you drunk? Calling me Daphne Theriosa.”
Psyche shook her head and then nodded again, her head rubbing against Daphne’s shoulder as if she were nuzzling it.
“Psyche, your makeup will smudge.”
“Daphne.”
Psyche, who had been groaning softly, suddenly fell silent. Daphne didn’t rush her and kept quiet, praying once more that she would drift off.
“…Why Theriosa?”
Lord, are you telling me that fake believers like me have no place here?
“Hmm?”
Daphne widened her eyes as if she hadn’t heard properly.
“Why, Daphne, did you suddenly start liking him when you used to like my husband just a while ago?”
The sentence was full of contradictions.
“Does she not realize how strange it sounds to call him her own husband?”
Daphne looked down at the golden strands of hair tickling the back of her hand.
“I always did—”
Always? Daphne cut herself off mid-sentence. Psyche immediately followed up with another question.
“Did you want to become royalty?”
“Oh, definitely not.”
“If not, do you still hate me?”
“What? No.”
“Then why him, of all people? Since when? It doesn’t make sense. Why Daphne, of all people, why him?”
“If not, do you still hate me?”
“What? No.”
“If not that, why him? When did this start? It doesn’t make sense. Why Daphne, why him?”
This is inside a book, you’re the protagonist, and I was reincarnated into it with memories of my past life. If you must know, I’ve loved Celestian since my previous life.
“Do you dislike me loving the prince?”
“Yes. I hate it.”
It was an answer without hesitation. With her pronunciation becoming clearer, it seemed like she was slowly sobering up.
“Psyche, why do you hate Cele?”
Daphne decided to pretend she knew nothing about what had happened between them.
“Do you call him ‘Cele’?”
“It’s a nickname. Why do you hate him? Did you have romantic feelings for him before?”
Psyche snapped her head up and gave Daphne a look filled with indescribable contempt. If Celestian saw that expression, he’d be deeply hurt. Luckily, Psyche seemed immune to the charm of melancholy handsome men.
“You wouldn’t understand, Daphne, but he’s truly vile.”
“In what way?”
“He kills innocent people easily, commits massacres, spreads false accusations, and blackmails with people’s weaknesses. Worst of all, he keeps his hands clean while doing it.”
It was rare for Psyche to witness someone else’s evil deeds. Daphne found it fascinating and tried to see the girl who emitted peach fragrance.
“Daphne, even during the trial, he’s the only one who survives. In the end, he cuts off his tail so well. Most importantly, he…”
“Psyche.”
Even if she saw Celestian’s evil deeds so blatantly, as Daphne, it was meaningless information. He never harmed her in any way.
“Just think of him as dead. If you’ve read the papers, you’d know I’ve severed all the limbs of his rebellion myself.”
Daphne gently stroked Psyche’s hand, which was holding hers tightly.
“Power only exists when there’s wealth and people to support it. In that sense, he’s as good as dead.”
“But I know he’s alive, in your room.”
“Do you want to kill the man I love?”
“There are plenty of men in the world. There must be someone who suits Daphne better than him…”
“You sound like me when I told you to leave Romeo back then.”
Psyche clammed up. Back when she and Romeo were causing headaches for everyone with their romance, Daphne had outright told her to break up with him, listing everything he had done to her as a child.
Back then, Psyche cheekily retorted, Then why do you want to marry Romeo, Daphne?
“Why do you like him?”
“Um…”
“Because he’s handsome, right?”
Unable to find a better reason, Daphne finally said, “Because he’s handsome.”
“Yeah.”
Psyche sniffled.
“You know I hate it when people cry, right, Psyche?”
“I’m not crying.”
Her voice was full of tears.
“Why don’t you understand my feelings? Terriosa isn’t what he seems, Daph. I’m scared you’ll get hurt. That’s what worries me.”
Psyche must have believed Celestian would love her alone forever. Daphne already knew. And it was exactly what she wanted.
“When you heard he wasn’t dead, if you had the slightest understanding of your feelings…”
“Psyche, you know me. I get bored easily. This will pass.”
Daphne’s love never lasted long. She could dispose of Celestian when the time came. After all, there’d be no shortage of goals to pursue with her already vast resources.
“Sometimes Daphne says the exact same things as Romeo.”
Daphne, who was looking at the streetlights passing by the window, turned to Psyche with a puzzled expression.
“Daphne is similar to Romeo.”
Daphne removed her hand from her face and froze in shock. Did marriage mean they were bound to become alike? She didn’t understand why they kept doing this.
“Please, stop cursing me like that.”
It was more devastating than any insult Daphne had ever heard.
“No, it’s true. You’re exactly alike. You really are.”
“Psyche.”
“Even though Romeo said he was tired of me, when I disappeared, he destroyed Daphne’s garden.”
“My head almost rolled, too.”
“…He said he’d never love me forever…”
But then he knelt, begging, Please, love me.
“Daphne, you said you wanted to kill me, but now you love me.”
Daphne swore that she had never hated this girl enough to want to kill her. True, Daphne had been a bit harsh during those times when she played the villain role. But now it’s just a dark past.
What exactly was Psyche trying to say?
“Get to the point.”
Psyche pulled away, putting some distance between them, and stared at Daphne. Her delicate features seemed to radiate an untouchable purity.
“Well, what is it now?”
“See? Just like Romeo.”
“Does he still treat you like this?”
“No. He listens to me now.”
Psyche’s serious reply made Daphne burst into laughter.
“Yeah, he seemed like he would if you told him to.”
“But now you’re the one not listening to me, Daphne.”
Psyche’s gem-like eyes gleamed in the dark, and Daphne shuddered involuntarily.
“At my wedding, are you going to bring Terriosa?”
Psyche’s wedding was to be held on a luxurious cruise ship, exclusively in the first-class section for invited guests only.
A defeated Celestian Terriosa, watching from afar as Psyche took another man’s hand at the end of the wedding aisle—it was a thrilling image even in her imagination.
“Can I?”
Trying not to show her excitement at the imagination she just had, Daphne asked in a calm voice.
“No.”
Psyche’s expression shifted, her eyes narrowing as if to say, Stop talking nonsense.
“What’s this? Then why ask?”
“When do you plan to get bored of that love?”
“What?”
“Do you intend to abandon him? In a week? Surely not a year?”
“Psyche, one question at a time. You’re like a question assassin.”
“You said it wouldn’t last long, that you’d lose interest. When will that be?”
Her question was odd. Daphne, rarely flustered, hesitated, and Psyche paused before letting out a small sigh.
“Please forgive me for asking such a question. But I… now, whenever I think of Daphne, I can’t help but think of him too. It feels like a burden on my heart.”
“A burden?”
“I keep feeling uneasy that Daphne loves someone I hate.”
Even though Psyche seemed like she couldn’t even kill an ant, if she were given a knife now, she might somehow manage to kill a man she hated.
And of all people, that man was the one Daphne Bauecater loved enough to sell a mine and bribe the press to save. Psyche was undoubtedly battling some deep inner turmoil.
“If you just stopped thinking about me… No, Psyche, it’s fine for you to keep hating him.”
“Even though he’s the man you love?”
Daphne nodded with conviction.
“With Romeo by your side and me by his, he won’t ever harm you again.”
He’d probably look at her with heart-wrenching eyes, but Daphne intended to enjoy every moment of it.
“You have to stay by my side too.”
“Of course.”
Psyche seemed satisfied with Daphne’s answer and gave a faint smile before turning serious again.
“So what I mean is… I wish you’d get over him right now.”
“Well, but he’s too handsome to abandon immediately. Try to understand.”
Psyche’s lips moved as if to say more, but before she could, the carriage arrived at the palace gates at just the right moment.
Through the window, Daphne saw Romeo waiting in casual attire to greet them. The protagonist’s face lit up completely at the sight of him.
Ugh, they’re so insufferable.
After Psyche got off the carriage holding Romeo’s hand, she turned to Daphne and said,
“Still, don’t come with him to my wedding.”
Daphne couldn’t imagine following that request. The idea of her earlier fantasy was just too delicious. Instead, she smirked faintly, avoiding an outright answer.
“Daphne.”
“Yes, Psyche?”
“It’s late. Why don’t you stay over? There are plenty of rooms here, as you know.”
In Romeo’s arms, Psyche reached out and grabbed the hem of Daphne’s pants.
“This is my palace, you know.”
Romeo’s sculpted face froze like a marble statue, his expression one of pure dread, as though contemplating immediate exile. Psyche gently rubbed his side with her elbow.
“Stay, won’t you?”
Ignoring the oppressive golden gaze, Daphne crouched down and whispered softly enough for Psyche alone to hear,
“He told me just the other day he wanted to cut my hair and give it to you.”
“What? Daphne’s hair? Romeo, did you really say that?”
“Yep. Terrible, isn’t he?”
“Cousin, stop spouting nonsense and leave.”
Ignored.
“Good night, Psyche.”
Psyche laughed brightly.
“You too, Daphne.”
With a sweet goodnight, Daphne closed the door and tapped the carriage ceiling. The sound of hooves striking the ground grew louder as they quickly left Romeo’s palace behind.
“Damn that crown prince. Why does he insist on carriages when there are cars?”
Lying down sideways, Daphne covered her eyes with the back of her hand. The jolting carriage ride was nauseating, and she had no idea how many questions she’d fielded in just a few minutes.
“Does she really hate Celestian that much?”
Those blue eyes, glowing even in the dark of night, always fascinated her. They held a strange, almost obsessive determination.
Her village’s destruction, unwanted ‘kindness’… Considering Psyche’s personality, it made sense.
Daphne shrugged her shoulders, brushing off the lingering unease. Either way, dealing with Psyche was more exhausting than facing even the most relentless journalist.
******
After being surrounded by people all day, interrogated by the soon-to-be-married couple, and downing every drink offered to her, Daphne nearly passed out in the bathtub.
If Narid hadn’t come to turn off the lights, she might have boiled herself into stew. Rubbing her overly pruned skin, she finally returned to the room where Celestian was staying, well past midnight.
Though the lights were off, the faint glow from outside revealed his figure. He was sprawled on the sofa, asleep in an awkward, uncomfortable position.
Reaching out to check his temperature, Daphne’s hand froze as Celestian startled awake, grabbing her wrist. Their eyes met in the dim light.
“Oh.”
Her wrist was quickly released, almost as if he were rejecting her touch.
“You’re slow, Prince. Should’ve woken up when the door opened. What if I were an assassin?”
Daphne grumbled for no reason.
“…The scent.”
His voice cracked, splitting into three distinct tones. Celestian released her wrist, clenched his fist, and cleared his throat twice.
“Scent?”
Daphne sniffed her wrist. It smelled sweet—she’d been using a fragrance Psyche had gifted her, having run out of her usual one.
Does it smell like Psyche’s scent?
“No.”
She handed him a glass of water from the table.
“Don’t tell me you thought I was Psyche?”
The soft gulping sound of him drinking stopped abruptly. Celestian’s gaze at Daphne grew unreadable.
“Pervert,” Daphne teased, delighted.
Lighting the lamp by the window, she sat cross-legged on the lavender cushion stool at his feet. It was likely the first time they’d faced each other this late, given his habit of sleeping at ten sharp.
“Cele.”
She crooked her finger, beckoning him closer. Sighing softly, he leaned in obediently. Daphne placed her hand against his forehead.
His skin was warm compared to her own but no longer feverish like before.
“Medicine?”
“I took it.”
“Dinner?”
He shook his head.
“Not hungry?”
He nodded.
He’s probably lost his appetite from the fever and sweating so much. His blood sugar must be low too.
Still feeling a bit lethargic from her bath, Daphne studied his face in the lamplight. His features, unlike Romeo’s, had an entirely different charm.
The colors are different too.
Though his expression seemed cold when he didn’t smile, the rare curve of his lips could rival the sweetness of cotton candy.
“Do you bathe in cold water?”
Surprisingly, it was Celestian who broke the silence.
“Cold water? No. Why?”
“Your hands are cold.”
He stared at her hands as he spoke. Daphne flexed her fingers, answering nonchalantly.
“Oh, it’s always like this. Raynaud’s syndrome?”
“Ray, what?”
“Just means my feet are cold too.”
She pressed her foot lightly against the top of his. Though he flinched slightly, he didn’t pull away. Her eyes caught on his bare feet.
“You’ve got pretty feet.”
Unlike her own scarred legs, his large feet were smooth, like a sculptor had poured their soul into them.
Should I cast them and display them in the new room?
She stared at his feet a moment longer before tucking hers back under her skirt. A breeze brushed through her still-damp hair.
“Is this your usual bedroom?”
Celestian glanced around the room, finally breaking the silence again.
“Oh, this? No, this is my daughter’s room.”
A lie.
The room was modeled after her suite in Serenade and prepared specifically for Celestian, though she had opted to give him her own room first to avoid seeming obsessed.
Still, if she’d known he’d make such a fuss, she’d have locked him in here from the start.
“A daughter?”
Celestian seemed genuinely surprised.
“Yes.”
As Daphne quickly fabricated a story, he remained quiet, waiting.
“…I’ve never seen her.”
“Of course not. She’s not here.”
“Where is she?”
Daphne suppressed a laugh, putting on a wistful expression as she gazed out the window.
“I wonder… If she had been born, would she have been a troublemaker?”
“What?”
“I had a miscarriage. When I was seventeen.”
The emptiness in her voice made Celestian inhale sharply.
Idk why but I find a speck of wholesomeness in this ever so crazy story especially with how crazy each characters are in their own way.
