Chapter 14
The Night We Slept Together
The final note of the last piece landed like a period, bringing the recital to a close. The audience rose to their feet, erupting into applause.
Mildred stood, her gestures elegant as she bowed in gratitude, then exited toward the back of the stage. The lights gradually came back on, illuminating the hall.
Daphne moved to the railing, scanning the backs of the guests’ heads. The Crown Prince and Crown Princess were also standing, clapping, and surveying the room.
Her gaze locked with Romeo’s as he turned to look back. Daphne waved leisurely in greeting, then subtly lifted her middle finger toward her stomach, ensuring Celestian wouldn’t see. Romeo froze for a moment before smoothing his expression and smiling. Then he quickly escorted Psyche out through the front doors.
“I win~”
Whistling, Daphne turned around. Celestian sat with his head bowed, eyes still closed. She recalled how he had murmured through gritted teeth when the recital had begun. Daphne felt like a cruel owner who had tossed an unattainable treat in front of a cat.
“All thanks to our adorable prince.”
She glanced briefly at the now-vacant spot where Psyche had been, then stepped in front of Celestian.
“Cele, open your eyes.”
Celestian lifted his head. The area beneath his eyes was shockingly red. Startled, Daphne removed her gloves and gently ran her thumb under his eyes. His skin radiated warmth.
“Oh my, were you crying?”
Daphne felt a pang of regret for having been so absorbed in the organ recital, blissfully unaware of what had been happening next to her.
“I wasn’t crying.”
“Does it hurt somewhere?”
Celestian obediently let her touch his face, shaking his head. The coolness of her hands seemed to be welcome.
“What were you imagining that left you like this?”
“It’s a piece I like. The performance was moving.”
Despite the charming sentiment, he avoided meeting her eyes, his gaze fixed downward. His golden eyelashes fluttered every time he blinked, their shadows under his eyes stirring something in Daphne’s heart. Clearing her throat, she pulled her hand away.
Mildred’s recital had a tragedy theme, and the program followed suit, featuring pieces often used in dramatic funerals. With the grandeur of the pipe organ, tonight’s performance felt sacred—like a magnificent funeral service.
“Liar.”
Could anyone truly call this kind of music a “favorite”? Surely not even he would enjoy a funeral.
“Nothing even sank into your ears,” Daphne muttered. Celestian pressed his lips together, remaining silent. He didn’t even bother with a weak protest. Daphne, feeling magnanimous, offered,
“If you leave now, you could see Psyche a bit closer. She’s probably greeting the performers. I should head there too.”
“That would only make things difficult for you.”
“Oh, my prince, do you worry about me?”
Psyche and Romeo would undoubtedly be in the waiting room together. Meeting them like that could make for an awkward scene, and Celestian’s prediction of trouble was entirely accurate.
“I’ll stay here.”
Celestian’s lips parted slightly, but his voice had the resigned tone of someone giving up.
“Is this enough for you?”
“What if it isn’t?”
His features briefly turned cold.
“As some people call me, I’m not even worth being classified as trash… I’m a traitor, a dissenter. What could I possibly hope to gain?”
“Well, he’s not wrong.”
Suddenly, he seemed all too aware of his status. Psyche must have truly been remarkable for him to spiral into such self-awareness.
Daphne recognized the hidden meaning in the pitifully self-deprecating words of the handsome man before her. It was clear he had a deeper motive. To truly uncover it, she’d have to think it over several times.
“Ah…”
It didn’t take long. Daphne quickly reached a conclusion.
This prince is testing me.
He’s trying to weigh me, to see where the scales of my heart lean. He wants to know if I’ll coldly leave or choose to stay.
Feigning deliberation, she lightly pressed her fist to her chin, let out a small sigh, and said,
“Let’s go.”
She wasn’t sure which option Celestian wanted her to choose. But regardless, his attempt to leave room for ambiguity… was strangely flattering. Smiling broadly, Daphne extended the back of her hand. It was an invitation to take it. Celestian stared at her hand for a moment before lifting his gaze to meet hers.
“To where?”
Daphne found herself liking the way he looked up at her.
“For a smoke?”
She mimed holding a cigarette between her index and middle fingers near her lips. Smoking here wasn’t out of the question, but she didn’t have her cigarette case on her. A quick trip to the villa, where the servants were already preparing, would suffice.
Before her outstretched hand could become awkward, she bent down, grabbed Celestian by the wrist, and pulled him up. He looked dazed as he stood.
“Aren’t you going to see Serenade?”
“Didn’t you say you didn’t want to be alone? Anyway, my dear Mildy will be at the main house tomorrow.”
Being dragged along, clearly unprepared for such an outcome, Celestian followed Daphne, slightly disoriented.
“Is this okay?”
His tone carried a trace of laughter, though she couldn’t see his face behind her.
“Why wouldn’t it be?”
“I don’t smoke.”
“Really?”
Daphne suddenly thought of the royal family. Every royal she knew was practically spent half their life smoking cigars and drinking fine wine before retiring to their coffins.
“Is the prince an exception?”
Daphne tilted her head, comparing Celestian to Romeo, her only point of reference. Her cousin, while busy enough to sleep less than four hours a night, was still a notorious chain smoker—until Psyche turned his focus elsewhere.
“Then this is a good chance to learn.”
“You seem to dislike men who smoke.”
Daphne paused just before reaching the door and turned around.
“That’s true.”
She briefly imagined Celestian smoking—not a light cigarette but a heavy cigar.
Her fantasy shattered with a loud crash. It really didn’t suit him.
“It definitely doesn’t suit you. But what does that have to do with anything?”
“I’m a slave, aren’t I? I shouldn’t do things you don’t like.”
At his bold response, Daphne let out a surprised laugh, then playfully slapped his arm. The sound was dull, muffled by the glove and his clothing. She immediately regretted it—his solid frame made her palm throb.
“You’re my prince.”
“How amusing.”
His expression was far from amused.
“Then are you my princess?”
Daphne mirrored his expression, unimpressed.
“Oh~ So this is how it feels. Thank you for helping me understand, Your Grace.”
Finally, a smile crept onto Celestian’s face.
Daphne had no resistance to beautiful smiles, especially his. Feeling an unwelcome tickle in her nose, she scrunched it up and confidently pushed open the heavy doors.
And immediately locked eyes with a pair of golden irises.
“Why is he here?”
Romeo Rodriguez, whom she had thought had disappeared earlier, was leaning against a wall decorated with an intricately detailed mural.
Daphne internally titled the scene “The Male Protagonist in a Brown Vest Standing in a Gilded Hallway” before quickly attempting to walk away, pretending not to notice him.
“Dedee.”
The painting spoke. His black eyebrows arched sharply, and his lips jutted slightly—he clearly wasn’t pleased.
Daphne lamented Celestian’s height; she couldn’t even hide behind him.
“Oh, Romeo…”
She forced a sugary tone into her voice, pulling her lips into a wide, artificial smile.
“What brings you here?”
Unconsciously, she positioned herself slightly in front of Celestian, as if shielding him. If things went south, both of them could end up dead. Her cheeks ached from maintaining the forced smile.
“I wanted to compliment you on raising such talent, Lady Beaucater.”
“You acknowledged my eye for talent ages ago. No need to bring it up now—it’s embarrassing. And ‘Lady Beaucater’? I’d prefer you stop using that.”
Daphne felt like she might die of secondhand embarrassment from the saccharine sweetness in her tone.
Romeo, unimpressed by her performance, relaxed his expression and let out a short laugh.
“It seems you’ve decided to carry impurity with you wherever you go.”
“Oh my, impurity? Where do you see impurity? Or are you perhaps speaking about yourself?”
She lowered her voice for the last sentence, her tone sharp. If Celestian overheard, so be it—she couldn’t hold back her irritation.
At that moment, Celestian reached for Daphne’s skirt and pulled her firmly against him. Her back pressed against his chest, and her forced smile dropped into a flat line.
“What’s this now?”
When she glanced up, her eyes met his. He was looking down at her with an unbelievably sweet gaze, as if his eyes had been swapped for marshmallows. A tingle ran down the side of her face to her ears.
“How many nights have we spent together now?”
Celestian whispered as he tucked her fiery red hair behind her ear. His touch radiated warmth.
“Does my princess still have unresolved ties to her past relationships?”
At his audacious words, Daphne’s eyes widened in shock, her jaw dropping.
“What in the world… No, this can’t be real. He doesn’t know my name, does he? He’s just calling me whatever he wants, right?”
Romeo chuckled, shaking his head as he strode toward them with long, confident steps. Matching Celestian’s height, Romeo acknowledged him with a slight nod before bending over to take Daphne’s hand. He mimed a kiss above it.
“What is wrong with this man? Has he lost his mind?”
Goosebumps erupted across Daphne’s body as she remembered flipping him off earlier. Impulsive choices always made for the most regrettable memories.
Romeo’s lips parted, and Daphne suppressed the urge to punch his dimples as his jaw moved.
“Surely, Your Grace remembers how much Dedee loved me.”
The prince’s expression, which had been blooming like a freshly opened flower, cracked audibly as if struck by a sledgehammer.
