Chapter 24
Before You
Daphne’s parents were among the top ten wealthiest people on the continent.
As their daughter, it wasn’t an exaggeration to say that Daphne grew up surviving large and small threats.
She had been kidnapped five times for ransom, had her leg broken once, and even been dragged off and beaten with a club. She had been submerged in water—whether willingly or unwillingly—over a hundred times.
However, she was incredibly fortunate. She had never thought, “This pain is worse than death,” or “It might be better to die.” Even now, it was no different.
“Lady, are… are you alr-right?”
Kisha’s face, framed by her black hair tied tightly in a ponytail, was bruised and swollen.
“I think I’m fine? Did I get shot? Or not? Why’s everyone acting like this?”
After an accident had left her sluggish, Daphne’s father insisted on teaching her basic combat skills.
“You need to know how to protect yourself,” he had said. Among those skills, Daphne showed remarkable talent for shooting.
After making her official debut in high society, her face became widely recognized, and she was able to avoid many of those previous dangers.
But.
Come to think of it, while she had fired plenty of guns, this was her first time being shot.
“Honestly, it’s not as bad as I expected?”
For the first few seconds, she thought she was fine. The sight of her blood soaking through her clothes seemed oddly slow and unreal.
“This isn’t so bad, right? It’s just my side.”
She barely staggered, yet suddenly Celestian’s stunningly handsome face appeared before her. He was holding her tightly in his arms.
“Daphne.”
“He’s been calling my name a lot today. Not that I mind. Have you been pretending not to care all this time? This jerk.”
Confusion flickered in his eyes, spinning around like a whirlwind. It made Daphne’s stomach churn in turn.
“Celestian, I’m totally fine—”
She let out a small laugh but then froze.
Actually, I’m not fine at all.
As that thought crossed her mind, Daphne’s eyes rolled back, and she collapsed unconscious.
*****
Daphne was immediately taken to the main hospital in the plaza.
The suturing surgery was completed quickly. The doctors reported that it was only a graze and that there was no significant damage to nerves or muscles.
“We’ve been monitoring everything. All five buildings around Withrow Department Store—on the first floor, fifth floor, and the rooftops. Even inside the department store. But the ones below were all killed, and there was a guy with an assault rifle behind me. The driver… he was found beaten up in the department store cafeteria. He’s at the hospital now.”
Kisha listed the facts without offering excuses.
Narid punched Kisha in the abdomen, her eyes red and swollen. Then, like a child holding back sobs, she stifled her tears before finally breaking down, blaming Celestian in wailing cries.
“This is your fault. It’s because of you, you damn prince. You wretched traitor!”
When Celestian tried to enter the hospital room, she desperately blocked his way. Misha, who arrived late, patted Narid’s shoulder with a deathly pale expression while glaring at Celestian, seemingly agreeing with her.
“I want to report this to Chairman Green right now, but the young lady wouldn’t like that, so I’ll hold back. If he hears about this, the Grand Duke will probably tear you limb from limb.”
“How many times are you going to put our young lady’s life in danger? She was living just fine—healthy and happy—and now she’s been shot. What did she do to deserve this?”
“Let’s all calm down, okay? It’s my fault too.”
Kisha intervened tactfully. Narid weakly punched him with what little strength she had left, signaling him to stay out of it.
Celestian silently lowered his gaze. What lingered in his mind was the image of Daphne lying pale-faced on the hospital bed. Finally, he collapsed into a makeshift chair in front of the hospital room. He ran his fingers through his hair, gripping it tightly. His palms felt unusually dry.
When he looked down at his hands, Daphne’s blood had dried and crusted in a dark reddish-brown stain. A vertical slash wound, still vivid in his memory, appeared overlaid with her blood. Celestian clenched and unclenched his fists, letting out a long sigh.
He pieced together the events of the evening. It felt like the work of hired assassins, yet their swordsmanship was that of knights. This suggested their intent wasn’t murder—it was likely meant as a threat.
The bullet that grazed Daphne’s side and embedded itself in the ground was too mangled to trace.
“Using gold bullets, of all things.”
The ones Celestian had managed to keep alive had bitten down on poison hidden in their molars and killed themselves during transport. Only the masked man had vanished without a trace.
The conclusion was clear: Daphne hadn’t been the target. He was.
“Hah, here we go again.”
His hand trembled faintly. Daphne had been put in danger because of him, and in the end, she had taken the bullet meant for him.
The sensation of Daphne’s hands shoving him with all her strength throbbed faintly on his chest. Celestian opened his palm and lightly tapped the area over his heart.
At that moment, a commotion erupted at the end of the hallway. Daphne’s household staff and Celestian naturally turned to look.
A woman draped in a light blue cape—none other than the Crown Princess-to-be—was running down the hallway without regard for decorum. Several maids trailed behind her.
Celestian stood up. Psyche spotted him immediately and wiped the tearful expression from her face. Her fists trembled with suppressed anger.
“Move.”
Though Celestian was already standing far from the hospital room door, Psyche shoved his shoulder as if she couldn’t stand the sight of him.
“Does she want to pick a fight even in a situation like this?”
He willingly stepped aside, tilting his head in mild confusion. Psyche promptly slipped into the hospital room and shut the door behind her.
“The traitor’ remnants are still out there.”
“They were trying to kill the traitor, but Lady Beaucater got caught in the crossfire.”
“Poor Lady Daphne.”
“Our lady is the most pitiful of all. She said she wouldn’t cry anymore, but did you see her sobbing earlier?”
Psyche’s maids murmured amongst themselves, their voices filled with pity as they shifted restlessly. Occasionally, they threw sharp glances at Celestian, as if ensuring he overheard every word.
“For a moment, I thought Lady Daphne had died, the way she was crying so much.”
Celestian flinched. His eyes scanned the faces of the maids, who quickly fell silent and avoided his gaze.
“Familiar faces. How tiresome.”
He let out a long sigh.
Half of what they said was wrong, but the other half was right.
No matter how it was framed, Daphne lying helplessly in a hospital bed was undeniably because of him.
*****
“Theriosa.”
Psyche’s eyes were bloodshot and red when she emerged from the hospital room. Knowing her personality, she wouldn’t have tried to wake Daphne, so she had likely spent a long time stifling her sobs, her cries caught in her throat.
“I’m curious why you’re still here.”
Celestian met Psyche’s gaze as she looked down at him. He stood up from his seat with an exasperated expression.
“I asked why you’re still here.”
When he didn’t immediately answer and simply stared at her, Psyche pressed him for a response again.
“If you’ve read the newspapers, you’d know. She bought me. I’m hers.”
Saying this, Celestian felt a brief sense of relief. His reason for being by Daphne’s side was clear and valid.
But Psyche’s blue eyes were practically cursing him.
“You insolent wretch…”
Psyche wanted nothing more than to unleash a tirade of insults. Though she’d learned plenty from Daphne, she couldn’t bring herself to speak freely in her current attire.
“Are you doing this to get revenge on me?”
“What are you talking about?”
Celestian tilted his head.
“You hate me… don’t you?”
“That’s your misunderstanding, Psyche Denver.”
Psyche bit her lip hard.
“Daphne is in this state because you’re clinging to her!”
Her voice rose a pitch.
“Lower your voice, Psyche.”
“Don’t call me by my name. I’m no longer someone you can address so casually.”
Celestian’s lips pursed at her sharp tone.
“This happened to Daphne because of you. You’re a traitor, a rebel who failed to fulfill your duty and instead coveted what wasn’t yours. Think carefully. Do you really think what happened today was just a coincidence?”
“I could’ve protected her.”
Celestian answered with a calm, expressionless face.
“Liar. Daphne was hurt.”
“Denver.”
“I know how to ensure this doesn’t happen again.”
Celestian raised his eyebrows as if to say, Go on, I’m listening.
“You need to disappear from Daphne’s side. If you don’t, you won’t be able to protect her. Thinking your swordsmanship can keep up with the progress of civilization is just arrogance.”
Psyche’s words were precise and cutting, her tone controlled.
“If you stay near her, Daphne will continue to be in danger. Think about your place. You’re the traitor who tried to kill the king, aren’t you? Yes, you were.”
“……”
“And Daphne… because of me, she’s already ostracized in society…”
Psyche sniffled, her voice choking slightly.
“Anyway, if you stay near Daphne, her reputation, her safety… everything about her will…”
Suddenly panicking, Psyche began to repeat herself, stumbling over words as she asked for Misha. She urged him to send a telegraph as soon as Daphne woke up or asked for her.
Her rambling flustered even the others waiting nearby.
“Celestian, please leave. I’m telling you to go.”
But Psyche delivered this final remark with clarity. Her conviction was firm: if Celestian remained by Daphne’s side, Daphne would only face more danger.
The weight of her statement was undeniable. If she intended to amplify Celestian’s guilt, she had succeeded magnificently.
—If I ever become a threat to Daphne, I’ll leave on my own. Don’t concern yourself with me.
And yet, only days ago, Celestian had said those words with such confidence.
“…Since when have you cared so much about Daphne? You don’t even truly know her.”
Tears, clear as glass, streamed down Psyche’s doll-like cheeks. Celestian, looking as though he had taken on a troublesome burden, let the strength drain from his eyes.
“Psyche.”
She covered her ears, as if refusing to hear him, her tears falling in earnest.
“I’ve cared for Daphne since long before you could ever imagine.”
Celestian’s voice was dry, his green eyes shadowed with emotion.
The maids approached to support Psyche as she began to collapse. Once they all disappeared, the white, expansive corridor was left eerily quiet.
“Denver, I was there before you.”
Celestian’s voice trembled, thick with unshed tears.
