Chapter 15
The Mad Villainess and the Traitor
“Does she even know?”
Daphne avoided looking at Romeo, who was pretending to give her an intense, smoldering gaze.
“A heart doesn’t dry up overnight. Isn’t that right, Didi?”
“And where have you left Lady Denver, Romeo?”
Celestian’s voice was cold, sharp as frost.
“Likely enjoying the company of an organist. As I said, I’m here to compliment the patron of this performance. Oh, but if I had known my dear villainess would be with her new lover…”
“My dear villainess”? Ugh… stop this nonsense…
Daphne, caught between the dazzlingly handsome half-brothers in broad daylight, pressed her temples. She was seriously considering fainting on the spot.
“I would have brought a gift for Dedee,” Romeo added.
Daphne dropped her hand and shot a piercing glare at him.
“Like a whip crafted for disobedient beasts, or perhaps a thin birch switch.”
Romeo spoke with a playful tone, laughter evident in his voice.
“Oh, stop saying weird things! Please, for the love of…”
Daphne silently mouthed the words, frantically waving her hand at Romeo so Celestian wouldn’t notice.
“Thank you for the thought, but I’m not into those kinds of things,” she replied, her teeth clenched in a forced smile.
“Funny, I seem to recall otherwise,” Romeo retorted without missing a beat.
“Do you even have the right kind of memory to recall such things?”
“Why not? Was it a lie when you said the man standing before you was precisely your type?”
“That was about your wealth—I mean, tastes change over time, Your Highness.”
“Hmm… tastes change, you say. Interesting.”
Romeo smirked slyly, casting sidelong glances her way, his gaze anything but kind. If there were any reporters nearby, the situation would spiral into disaster. Daphne wanted to stomp on both their feet and flee.
“Celestian, don’t listen to His Highness. As I’ve told you before, we’re completely done. Actually, we never started, so there was nothing to end.”
“Oh, Princess, I’m almost offended,” Romeo said, his tone laced with amusement.
Daphne slipped her hand out of his shield-like grip and addressed him coldly.
“Your Highness, won’t Miss Denver be waiting? I’ll gladly accept your compliment, and I’ll strive to continue discovering talented individuals. Now, if you’ll excuse me.”
She curtsied lightly, grabbed Celestian by the side, and pushed him away from Romeo’s radius. Finally, she managed to escape his orbit. However, as she straightened her back, Romeo called out from behind.
“Didi, I enjoyed your last letter. You said you’d cut me out of your heart.”
Daphne froze.
I swear, I’ve never sent him a letter in my life.
“Let’s just stay far, far away from this lunatic. Please, let’s go.”
She pushed against Celestian’s side with all her might, urging him forward. But no matter how hard she pushed, he didn’t budge.
It felt like she was pressing against a tree trunk. Startled, she patted her shoulder and tried again, pushing his side with her palm.
“Why is he so solid?”
Momentarily distracted, she nearly forgot the situation. She pushed again, but he still stood firm, as if glued to the carpet.
“He’s stopped because he’s curious, isn’t he?”
Daphne looked up at him, her face filled with disbelief. Celestian’s expression had hardened.
“I didn’t expect the substitute you’d choose to be my brother,” Romeo quipped.
Daphne turned around with a scowl.
“Romeo.”
“My brother doesn’t resemble me at all, Dedee,” Romeo said, lowering his head to grin mockingly just inches from her face. Daphne clenched her fist tightly.
“One act of murder saves three acts of patience…”
But it wasn’t the right time to flip him off or punch him in the face.
Before Daphne could respond, Celestian raised his hand, shielding her from Romeo’s gaze.
“Romeo, Lady Beaucater is uncomfortable,” he said flatly.
“Oh, brother, you’re still here?” Romeo replied, straightening his back and blatantly ignoring Celestian.
“If I stay longer, my beloved wife might grow impatient. Until we meet again.”
With the relaxed smile of someone who has everything, Romeo adjusted his attire deliberately and strolled away down the long hallway, disappearing quickly. The storm had passed, leaving only silence in its wake.
“Néalba Beaucater,” Celestian muttered.
“What kind of name is that?” Daphne, puzzled by the random name, furrowed her brow before bursting into laughter.
“Why?”
“When did you send Romeo a letter?”
“Oh… I don’t know. Maybe sometime?”
“You said you had no intention of getting back with Romeo. That he was just a cousin.”
“Do you think I’d want to?” Daphne chuckled bitterly.
“Am I just a replacement?”
His tone was subdued, and Daphne realized she was still wrapped in the warmth of his embrace. She tilted her head back, trying to move away.
But before she could retreat, Celestian tightened his grip around her waist.
“Tell me,” he urged.
“Huh?”
“Am I just another stand-in?”
Daphne stared into his green eyes, which seemed uncharacteristically clouded.
“Another stand-in?”
She tapped the arm holding her lightly.
“Let’s talk after you let go.”
“I will. Once you answer.”
“No, you’re not a stand-in. Now let go.”
He hesitated briefly before loosening his hold. Daphne immediately stepped back.
“Cele.”
His brows furrowed, and his cheeks puffed slightly in a dissatisfied pout.
“Cute.”
She couldn’t help but notice the stark contrast between him and Romeo, a true victor and loser in every sense.
Daphne quickly removed her gloves, which Romeo had carelessly kissed earlier.
“If we go now, Psyche probably won’t be there.”
As irritating as Romeo was, he was sharp and likely had the sense to leave with her already.
“Want to meet Mildred? Her voice is incredible—like hearing the organ itself.”
“Sure.”
“Oh, and you didn’t even hear a single song earlier. If you try to act like you did, I’ll laugh at you.”
“I did hear it.”
“Don’t lie.”
Daphne tapped his cheek with her bare fingers, prompting him to grab her hand before beginning to walk.
Surprised by the warmth of his large hand enveloping hers, she missed the chance to pull away.
Hand in hand, they made their way to the waiting room, where Lady Serenade awaited.
*****
Psyche’s villa stood atop a hill, offering a sweeping view of the palace and all the buildings in the royal city below. This vantage point earned it the nickname “The Cliff of Scenery.”
Daphne, her red hair straightened and adorned with three diamond-studded pins on her left ear, admired her reflection in the mirror. She was dressed in a light sky-blue empire gown and smiled contentedly.
While folding Daphne’s discarded clothes, Narid suddenly asked, “Lady, aren’t you wearing gloves today?”
Daphne glanced at her palms and shook her head.
“One got dirty, and the Prince stole the other.”
“Oh my!”
Daphne recalled what had happened about an hour ago. The villa, which she had expected to be quiet, bustled with servants making final preparations and guests arriving in droves, creating an increasingly lively atmosphere.
“Beaucater.”
“Huh?”
Just before entering the powder room, Celestian had quietly approached and gently grasped her wrist.
If only he had just held it normally.
Instead, he slipped his fingers into her gloved palm, between her middle and ring fingers. The ticklish sensation made Daphne recoil in surprise, pulling her hand back, which allowed him to easily slip off her glove.
“Are you out of your mind?”
Turning back, she saw the prince smirking mischievously, tucking the glove behind his back. With his free hand, he gestured towards Narid, who was rushing toward them.
“What are you…?”
“Lady, I’m sorry for being late!”
Narid’s arrival left no room for Daphne to interrogate him. She was pushed forward while Celestian disappeared with Misha into another room.
The memory of that brief but oddly intimate touch lingered, prompting Daphne to inspect the fine lines on her palm.
“He’s the first man I’ve seen so obsessed with gloves.”
“It’s probably because you lied, saying they belonged to Miss Denver. You brought it upon yourself.”
“Right, I did.”
Daphne clenched her fist to dissipate the lingering sensation, but Narid seemed more regretful than she was.
“Those gloves were a limited edition by Coco, weren’t they? You cherished them so much. How will you replace them?”
“I have two more pairs.”
“What? You like Coco that much?”
“I do, but I also planned to sell them later at a premium.”
“Honestly, Lady, you’re so wealthy yet so…” Narid trailed off, clicking her tongue in disbelief.
Daphne shrugged with a sly grin.
“I was going to give one pair to you as a birthday gift. Should I sell that one too?”
“And that’s why I’m devoted to you for life,” Narid replied playfully, winking as Daphne chuckled and shook her head. She put on a new pair of thin chiffon gloves Narid handed her and stood up.
The sun was setting as she glanced out the hallway window. The royal city, bathed in twilight, stretched below the hill in breathtaking splendor.
In the kingdom, pure blond hair was rare. Those who possessed it were usually foreigners or of mixed heritage.
“The princess genes clearly won out…”
Celestian stood out even at a glance. The golden light of the setting sun made his blond hair glow even more, like molten gold.
The tall prince was leaning against the railing, gazing down at the first floor. Sensing her presence, he turned around.
“Living proof that museums come alive.”
Celestian was dressed in a deep blue suit, his golden hair artfully tousled.
Daphne briefly glanced at her own red hair, styled to flow down past her chest. People often compared it to roses, though it wasn’t vividly red.
In low light, it was more of a dusky, dark auburn—an intriguing, but understated color.
Shaking off her thoughts, Daphne waved lightly at Celestian.
“Good evening, glove thief.”
Celestian extended his gloved hand toward her in return. The simple motion was imbued with an effortless elegance that reminded Daphne of his princely stature, leaving her momentarily frozen.
“I simply reclaimed what was lent,” he said.
“Oh, that makes you sound so petty.”
“You’re the one who made me petty.”
Daphne reached for his hand but stopped, instead raising her index and thumb in a teasing gesture. Celestian chuckled softly.
“I concede,” he said, withdrawing his hand.
Daphne glanced at his other hand, wondering if he was still holding her glove in such a graceless manner. The ballroom below was already bustling with people.
“His Royal Highness the Crown Prince of Secradian and his fiancée, Lady Psyche of the Denver family!”
The booming announcement drew everyone’s attention to the grand doors, which slowly opened. Guests gasped and murmured in awe.
As the brief commotion settled, the orchestra began playing a gentle tune. The attendees paired up, forming graceful formations on the floor.
“I’m glad I came early.”
Daphne rested her elbows on the balcony railing, watching the twirling gowns of the nobles below.
A servant ascended the stairs, carrying a tray with just two glasses of wine. Celestian declined with a wave, but Daphne grabbed both glasses and downed them in one go.
She wondered how she’d be introduced this year. Until last year, she had been referred to as the prince’s betrothed. For the past few months, it had been something similar.
“The Scarlet Rose of Secradian.”
While being likened to a magnolia or lily might have been flattering, comparisons to a thorny red rose carried a bad reputation. In public, people were quick to judge her harshly, though no one dared to challenge her in private.
“I suppose now it’ll be ‘The Mad Villainess and the Traitor.’”
Looking at the pairing from an outsider’s perspective, they did seem to fit the label.
She glanced at Celestian’s profile.
“Celestian, want to go downstairs and dance with me?”
She tensed slightly after asking. For some reason, the simple question felt oddly difficult, as if it had taken an enormous amount of courage to say.
“Go downstairs?”
“Or would you rather spin around here without any lights?”
Celestian lowered his gaze, a familiar habit when he was deep in thought. He covered his mouth with a clenched fist, as if contemplating something.
“Why does he keep looking down?”
Focused on his eyes, Daphne failed to notice his slightly flushed ears.
“Forget it if you don’t want to,” she muttered, giving up with a shrug.
“Beaucater, my concern is…”
“Psyche? She doesn’t care about you,” Daphne interrupted, annoyed. She turned to watch the ballroom below again.
Romeo and Psyche danced seamlessly across the polished mahogany floor, their faces glowing with joy. Despite the several song changes, neither showed any signs of fatigue, their smiles never fading.
When the song ended and the guests moved freely around the ballroom, Daphne finally descended to the first floor.
She stopped in front of an oversized portrait. Being at a party filled with high-ranking nobles and royalty meant she couldn’t freely initiate conversations, though triangular stares from across the room began to target her and her partner.
It wasn’t long before a dark shadow loomed over Daphne’s head.
