Chapter 21
Superficial Lovers
Kisha momentarily dropped her jaw but quickly closed it again.
“Did they really just say that to me?”
It was true; her employer had a habit of frivolously overusing the word “love.” This was Daphne, after all, who treated a pair of imported Western shoes like a royal treasure and whispered, “I love you so much, my baby,” to them every night.
But this was entirely separate from her employer’s love life—a topic Kisha absolutely did not want to know about. She tried her best to interpret the comment in the shallowest way possible.
“It probably just means she grew up never hearing someone say they love her. Because she’s an illegitimate child.”
Kisha resolved to dissect the grand duke’s words, only hearing the parts she wanted. With this mental victory, a mischievous urge bubbled up within her to tease him. She casually smoothed her hair, which had fallen over the back of her neck, and curled her lips into a sly smile.
“Our lady really is full of love, isn’t she? She even uses ‘I love you’ as a greeting. And, objectively speaking, she’s incredibly beautiful, too. That might explain why her relationships… can get a little complicated.”
Kisha said this while scrutinizing the man’s reaction. His downcast green eyes stayed fixed on the floor, and the tips of his crossed feet began to tap lightly.
“As I thought.”
Her earlier suspicions seemed to hit the mark.
“Would you like me to send Lady Denver a letter on your behalf? I can do it secretly for you.”
She waved a piece of stationery playfully, watching as Celestian’s brows furrowed. His face darkened with growing irritation, and to Kisha’s surprise, it was almost charming. She suddenly understood why her employer seemed obsessed with provoking this man.
“I appreciate the offer, but I’ll decline.”
It was as though someone had forced him to stand on a cliff’s edge, threatening to push him off if he didn’t comply.
The last ruler of the desolate island in the northwest—often called the “eternal winter”—Celestian was a figure of legend. His land had disappeared from maps, and the younger generation spoke of “Theriosa” as though it were a mythical realm inhabited by mermaids and the like.
Before entering the orphanage, Kisha had traveled the seas with her parents on a ship. That’s how she knew about him and the place he ruled.
She’d often wondered why he hadn’t run away, but his true purpose turned out to be quite unexpected.
“So, he’s not even interested in Miss Denver. If anything, he’s desperate for attention from our lady.”
Her gaze shifted to a half-finished letter addressed to “C” abandoned mid-sentence. For some reason, she had a feeling her employer’s current romance wouldn’t last much longer.
“No wonder I’ve been dreading this whole situation from the start.”
Kisha was the first to realize that there was a certain mutuality to her employer and the grand duke’s affections. But his feelings were clearly different from Daphne’s, who treated him like nothing more than a trophy.
And somehow, as if that wasn’t enough, Kisha had managed to entangle herself in their complicated love life in the most unnecessary way.
Living with Daphne for several years must have infected her with that damned curiosity.
“Your Grace, about what I said earlier—it was just a joke. Our lady keeps a small circle of acquaintances and finds men… rather bothersome.”
She tried to backpedal, lifting her head to salvage the situation.
“Wow, are you a ghost or something? This is kind of freaking me out. How do you keep doing this?”
But the seat next to her was empty.
*****
The Withdraw Department Store was centrally located on 21st Street, directly connected to the capital’s train station. Perhaps because of this, it was always teeming with crowds. On this outing, even the rooftop of the tallest building was occupied by Kisha and several security guards.
Normally, Daphne would summon a few select salons to her room for shopping. However, whenever she personally visited a department store, it was a day that would account for its entire revenue.
In turbulent times like these, shopping centers naturally welcomed magnates like Daphne. The storeowner designated this day as an “appointment-only” event for her visit. Upon hearing that she had arrived, they rushed to the lobby to greet her, clinging to her side and rubbing their hands together like a fly.
Daphne wore a yellow tweed two-piece set. Her hair was styled in a bun, and she was adorned with aurora opals on her ears, neck, and hands. She also wore oversized black sunglasses, shielding her puffy face after a heavy night of drinking.
When Celestian emerged from behind the curtain after his measurements were taken, he slumped into the seat beside Daphne, their thighs touching. Daphne shifted slightly to avoid contact, turning her attention to the passing carriages outside the window.
“Why?”
Celestian tilted his head and asked.
“What?”
“Why are you moving away?”
“Because I don’t like you,” Daphne replied curtly, burying her face in the catalog again. Despite the dim lighting and her sunglasses making the text difficult to read, she checked off items and signed orders indiscriminately.
Shopping didn’t take long. A simple “I’ll take everything between here and there in my size” sufficed.
Celestian extended his hand as if expecting her to take it. When Daphne tilted her head in confusion, he gestured toward the onlookers with his chin.
“If we don’t act affectionate, they’ll think something’s strange.”
As he said, the few other customers were glancing their way. A wealthy socialite deliberately distancing herself from her “public lover,” the infamous traitor? That could easily spark unwelcome gossip among the nosy masses.
Daphne didn’t take his hand. Instead, she grabbed his wrist and pulled it toward her, locking arms with him. His forearm, now trapped in her grip, was firm—so firm that she could feel the ridges of his muscles through the tight fabric of his shirt.
How fascinating…
Unconsciously, Daphne gave the arm a couple of firm squeezes, marveling at its size. It was so thick that even two hands couldn’t fully grasp it. Celestian glanced down at her, wondering what she was doing, but Daphne simply stared ahead at the jewelry showcase.
“Lady Beaucater.”
A pale-faced new hire from the department store stopped Daphne as she was heading back to the entrance, all her accessories purchased. Strangely, despite looking directly at the worker, their features seemed fuzzy and indistinct.
“At the front entrance, um… well…”
The employee’s voice trembled like a bleating lamb. Newcomers were always intimidated by magnates like Daphne. She smiled faintly and inclined her head to listen.
The gist was that members of the National Security Force (NSF), tipped off about Celestian’s presence, had gathered at the front. Daphne let out a sharp “tsk,” clutching Celestian’s arm reflexively.
“Tell my driver to meet us at the back entrance, the brown Ford.”
“Yes, right away!”
With a little time to spare before the car arrived, Daphne made another lap around the jewelry store before exiting through the rear.
The shopping trip had been productive. Women fanning themselves with hand fans gasped at Celestian, while men, pretending not to look, glanced at him with slack jaws.
After tugging the ribbon on her glove, Daphne pulled it off and tossed it into the car. Shopping bags delivered by employees were stacked neatly in the back seat.
But the driver’s seat was empty.
“Bathroom break?”
Daphne tilted her head, seating herself in the back and watching Celestian approach from a distance.
He stood out even more among the crowd, his frame larger than she remembered from his days at the ballroom. His shoulders were broader, and his face somehow seemed even smaller.
The sunlight glinting over the square dyed Celestian’s hair a coppery red. Daphne’s chest tightened and her stomach churned unexpectedly.
What’s this…? Oh, maybe I ate something bad.
She tapped her chest absentmindedly.
What’s the quickest way to escape this ridiculous love triangle without any unnecessary drama? Daphne tapped her fingers against her arm as she considered.
Engagement?
But she quickly dismissed the idea. She didn’t want to tether herself to that kind of madness again. Besides, her mother would only intensify the pressure to turn him into a king.
Still, somewhere in the back of her mind, she found the dramatic title “Fiancée of the Traitor” somewhat intriguing.
Maybe an interview with the press…?
Meanwhile, Celestian had knelt by the fountain, smiling as children called him “Prince!” and clung to him, laughing in delight.
For a moment, Daphne’s tension eased as she watched the scene unfold.
“Celestian.”
She snapped her fingers to beckon him, but her call seemed to darken his expression.
“Why are you calling me that?”
“I just want you to experience how well I know your name.”
“You’re impossible to figure out.”
Celestian chuckled softly.
“Curious about my heart? How very sensitive and generous of you, Your Highness.”
Daphne removed her oversized sunglasses, narrowing her eyes.
Just then, a commotion arose in the quiet plaza. Cries calling for the rebel’s execution on behalf of the king pierced the air.
Celestian stopped in his tracks, looking toward the source of the noise. Daphne instinctively grabbed his wrist and pulled him toward the car.
She pushed him into the open back seat and stood in front of him protectively, stealing a glance over her shoulder.
“Are those the ones who said they’d tear you limb from limb?”
Celestian raised an eyebrow and laughed dryly.
The group was small—barely a dozen people—and their clothing was shabby. They looked like pub patrons who had abandoned their drinks to rush out at the news of the rebel’s appearance.
“Celestian Theriosa! Take your own life for the sake of honor!”
The terrifying shout rang in their ears. Red-faced men glared daggers at him as if they might lunge forward at any moment.
