Chapter 13
Beautiful Every Day
Daphne’s childhood dream was to become the principal dancer of a ballet company. She had plenty of time to dedicate and an abundance of money to invest. But her talent was… questionable.
Despite spending a fortune on lessons, all she gained was stubborn determination, and her desired results drifted further away. Her mother, secretly hoping her easily bored daughter would give up soon, gently consoled her.
“Daphne, how about taking lessons with royalty from now on?”
After her debutante ball, there would immediately be an engagement party, and she was told she needed to perfect her manners. She was tired of hearing it.
“I’ll keep dancing until my legs break.”
Daphne shouldn’t have said that. On an unlucky day, she was hit by a carriage, and her leg broke cleanly. Experiencing her first lost dream, Daphne fell into despair and temporarily stayed in a distant estate’s sanatorium.
There, she met a bold little girl who said that with money like Daphne’s, she could do anything.
“What’s the use of money? Without talent, it’s all meaningless.”
Even as she sneered, Daphne sponsored the girl. She wanted her to experience the same ambiguous despair she had felt. It was the mean-spirited generosity of Daphne’s younger self.
But now…
“A good omen.”
Today was the solo recital of that little girl, who had grown to become the kingdom’s leading organist. As Daphne stepped into the neatly designed music house with its pale blue marble floors, familiar aristocrats glanced at her as they passed by.
Standing beneath the grand chandelier at the central staircase, Daphne prepared to greet a few guests she had invited as a patron before taking her seat.
“Lady Beaucater!”
Just then, a young lady with a head full of luscious black curls and bright blue eyes entered the hall and quickly approached Daphne.
“Tickets were so hard to get, thank you so much for inviting me.”
“This is to repay the favor, Miss Algeste.”
Ielle Algeste had been Daphne’s fellow ballet trainee and later her academy classmate. Now, she was the principal dancer for the continent’s top ballet company.
“I’m thrilled to see you again. It takes months just to get a meeting with you…”
“That’s because you’re never in the country.”
“That’s all thanks to you. You’re the talk of the newspapers these days. I’ve been so worried about you. Was it tough?”
“Was it tough…?”
Daphne paused to think about what could have been so difficult.
Whether Ielle’s claim of concern was sincere, she hugged Daphne by the neck and continued to nuzzle her cheek, showering her with kisses.
Then Ielle finally noticed Celestian, who had been quietly watching them, and stepped back in embarrassment. She lightly lifted the hem of her dress and curtsied.
As she approached to shake hands, Celestian responded with a light bow. Ielle chuckled softly and turned back to Daphne.
“You’re still stunning. It would be such a waste to let you fade away.”
Lowering her voice, she whispered to Daphne, who turned her back to Celestian to speak quietly with her friend.
“But there’s another problem.”
“What kind of problem?”
“At night… Oh, you know what I mean!”
Blushing, Ielle let out a laugh and playfully slapped Daphne’s bare shoulder. Daphne feigned pain, shrinking back dramatically.
“By the way, Daphne.”
“Yeah?”
“The Duke keeps staring at me.”
Ielle glanced sideways with her blue eyes at the man next to Daphne. Unconcerned, Daphne replied,
“It’s because you’re beautiful.”
“No, I mean, it’s like he’s glaring…”
“Ielle, and Lady Beaucater.”
The one who approached was Ielle’s partner. After greeting Daphne, he quickly noticed Celestian and paled.
“Daphne, I need to go.”
“See you next time. Write to me~”
Before her companion could say something careless, Ielle hurriedly grabbed him and headed up the stairs. The stammering man, following the ballerina, was a former naval officer and prominent member of the conservative Pureblood faction.
“Let’s leave.”
Celestian softened his gaze and shyly hoped to head to their seats. Perhaps unsure where to hold on, he timidly clutched Daphne’s dress hem.
“To where?”
But before they could ascend the stairs, Daphne’s friends rushed over to nuzzle her cheeks again.
Looking uncomfortable, Celestian tilted his head and fidgeted with his tie. In the end, he couldn’t endure it anymore and even loosened it.
“Beaucater.”
Daphne turned her gaze. She was startled to see Celestian loosening his tie and gave him a light nudge.
“What are you doing?”
“It’s suffocating. It hurts.”
Hearing him say he was in pain, Daphne, who had been turning her back to him to greet others, quickly bid one person goodbye. She then turned her body fully to face him, examining his neck closely.
“Oh my.”
The inside of his neckline was indeed red and irritated. It seemed the rope marks on his neck hadn’t fully healed yet.
“Use my name in front of people. And lower your waist a bit.”
At her gesture, he bent forward slightly. When his face suddenly came in too close, Daphne held her breath for about two seconds.
“Okay. Whatever you say.”
Daphne flinched momentarily but then chuckled softly. With practiced hands, she skillfully tied his tie into a neat knot. Celestian closed one eye and smirked slightly.
“Are you really going to trust me with your breath like that?”
“You’ve never even told me your real name properly. And you lie every time you open your mouth, so how could I trust you?”
At that, Daphne rolled her golden eyes upward in thought. Come to think of it, she really hadn’t told him her name properly, had she?
“How could he not know me?”
If he went outside and picked up any random newspaper off the stands, her name would undoubtedly appear in at least one of them.
Daphne opened her mouth to point that out but then closed it again. Instead, her gaze lingered, focusing intently on Celestian’s rounded forehead and the small mole above his eyebrow.
“Why do they keep hugging you?”
“Because it’s been a while since we’ve seen each other.”
“Why not shake hands or something?”
“In our circles, hugs are the norm for greetings. And it’s rude to shake hands without gloves…”
Celestian extended a hand he had kept behind his back. In it was a familiar pair of gloves. Daphne’s eyes widened as she accepted them.
“When did you pick these up? Why didn’t you give them to me earlier?”
Celestian lowered his gaze slightly and raised one eyebrow.
“Ah, that’s right.”
Daphne suddenly remembered that these gloves had been part of a deal sealed with a lie.
“Should I explain myself?”
But there was no need to say something unnecessary. Besides, anything in her possession was already hers, so there was no reason to feel at a loss.
“Thanks.”
She gave a curt reply, slipping the gloves onto her hands.
“They’re mine, so give them back.”
Celestian quietly added.
******
As soon as they entered the third-floor box seats, Daphne loosened Celestian’s tie. With quick hands, she unbuttoned one of his shirt buttons, revealing the reddened skin rubbed raw by the collar. Daphne frowned.
“Why?”
Celestian, caught off guard by suddenly being undressed, widened his eyes slightly in surprise.
“You should say something if it hurts.”
“I told you earlier.”
“No, I mean… Never mind. Put some ointment on it later.”
Daphne almost blew on the irritated area but stopped herself. She couldn’t believe she’d been so distracted by his face that she hadn’t noticed the state of his neck earlier.
“I should at least make him get it looked at.”
Adjusting her posture, Daphne began focusing the opera glasses.
The auditorium was abuzz. Standing at the railing and looking down, she saw that Romeo and Psyche had entered the first-floor seats. They were surrounded by the standing crowd as they made their way to their places.
Psyche wore a pristine white A-line dress, while Romeo was dressed in a brown suit.
Turning back, Daphne noticed Celestian lounging arrogantly in his seat, arms crossed and legs crossed.
“You’re not watching?”
“Watching what?”
“It’s Psyche.”
Celestian lowered his gaze to the floor and pondered for a moment before lazily standing and moving to stand next to Daphne. He carefully examined the area where Psyche and Romeo sat.
Daphne wanted to get a closer look at his face but hesitated, worried she might lean too far forward and fall to the first floor.
“Cele.”
“Yeah?”
“It’s been a while since you’ve seen her, hasn’t it?”
Celestian turned his head to look at Daphne. His green eyes, like calm ponds, seemed to glimmer under the warm orange lighting of the hall, sparkling like a Christmas tree.
“Should I lend him the opera glasses?”
Daphne fiddled with the black binoculars in her hand. But she figured there wasn’t much point—his view had probably already turned monochrome, with Psyche being the only radiant spot in his sight.
“She’s probably glowing like a gem to him.”
“I see her every day.”
Celestian’s eyes deepened.
“Oh. He means he thinks about her every day.”
A chill ran down Daphne’s spine. She discreetly rubbed away the goosebumps on her arms and replied,
“Is she still as pretty, even after all this time?”
“Yeah.”
Celestian, who once feared that even the slightest touch might cause Psyche to melt away from his warmth, stood beside Daphne.
“The author really was cruel. If he’s that much of a hopeless romantic, they could’ve at least let him hold her hand once.”
To Celestian, Psyche must have seemed as fragile as a thin glass bauble. Daphne, on the other hand, knew Psyche’s defenses were as impenetrable as vibranium.
The hall darkened, signaling the start of the recital. Daphne stepped back and took her seat, with Celestian following shortly after.
A freckled girl with brown hair and brown eyes, Mildred, stepped into the spotlight. She seemed to have grown taller since Daphne last saw her. Blending in with the audience, Daphne clapped enthusiastically.
The soft yet resonant sound of the organ filled the quiet venue, its music delicate but weighty. As the performance began, Celestian’s shoulders visibly tensed.
“This…”
“This what? That girl is Mildred Serenade. She’s only sixteen…”
Daphne explained the young organist’s background in a low whisper. But the prince remained silent, his jaw visibly tightening.
“Is he just happy to be in the same space as Psyche?”
Daphne decided to say no more and focused her attention on Mildred, who was performing under the rectangular spotlight. The sacred, captivating melodies always managed to enchant her. Folding her hands, she listened intently.
“You’re so cruel to me. How could you…”
Celestian spoke haltingly, one word at a time, his voice strained. Immersed in the performance, Daphne didn’t even glance at him, merely raising a finger to her lips to signal for silence.
“Why can’t you remember me, every time…”
Muttering cryptic words, Celestian closed his eyes and seemed to wrestle with his emotions. He groaned softly, as if suppressing something, and continued to do so for the entire two-hour performance.
