Chapter 32
Where Did My Blond Hair Go?
What should I do?
Daphne’s mind spun as every plan she had ever concocted crammed itself into her thoughts.
Those plans, imagined while staring at the angels painted on the ceiling of her mother’s library for over two weeks—how to kill that angel, how to dismember this one—played out vividly in her head.
Why black hair?
The man she had glimpsed earlier had unmistakably had black hair. Curiosity and intrigue urged Daphne to turn around and look again.
“Miss, are you okay? You look a bit pale.”
Chadwick spoke softly, noticing her flushed face. Daphne, who had been as red as a cherry, cooled instantly at his words, her expression returning to a neutral mask. Chadwick’s face, in contrast, took on a curious frown.
“You were laughing earlier, but now you’re ignoring me.”
Well, that was because earlier, Daphne had been amused enough to humor him—thanks to his blond hair.
But now, all of Daphne’s attention was fixed on the dark-haired man behind her. There was no way she could spare a smile for someone else.
“Hey, miss.”
By now, Chadwick had been ignored seven times, his face thoroughly crumpled with frustration.
Fine. Off with his head.
Reaching her conclusion, Daphne covered her mouth with the back of her hand and whispered to the dealer. For the first time, she noticed the dealer’s tie, patterned with the words “No Cheating.”
“Mister, do you have something like an axe here?”
“An axe? Why?”
“To chop off a man’s head. He’s got stunning blond hair, a ridiculously handsome face, and, unofficially, royal blood in his veins. That’s got to be worth something, right?”
Daphne was referring to Celestian, but Chadwick, overhearing the conversation, clammed up. Meanwhile, the dealer burst into hearty laughter.
“Haha, sorry, but axes aren’t accepted as collateral in this game.”
“What about a knife?”
Daphne mimed slashing her neck with her hand. The dealer, still smiling kindly, shook his head. Chadwick was expressionless, while another man nearby chuckled quietly.
“Oh, is the next round starting already?”
A smooth voice spoke above Daphne’s head, sending chills down her arms and shoulders. It was a voice she hadn’t heard in ages, one that stirred an unexpected mix of emotions.
“Oh, I was just about ready to quit. Want to take over?”
The man seated to Daphne’s right raised his hand. From the faint scent wafting through the air, it seemed the person behind her nodded. The man pocketed his winnings and left without hesitation.
“It’s been a while.”
Soft fabric brushed over Daphne’s shoulders, sending a shiver down her spine.
“It’s been a while?”
Grinding her teeth internally, Daphne sniffed the air.
“Smells nice.”
Needing the warmth, she didn’t throw the jacket off but placed it neatly on her lap.
“Yes.”
She replied as casually as she could and turned to look at the man now seated beside her.
He wore a navy vest over a loosely buttoned shirt, the top two buttons undone. The overall look screamed “reckless nouveau riche caught by paparazzi in a gambling den.”
The hair, which once shone brightly even under dim light, was now an unmistakable black. Daphne narrowed her eyes, struggling to reconcile the man she knew with the one in front of her.
Noticing her gaze, Celestian rested his chin on his hand, tilting his head slightly to the right as if to invite her to look more closely.
“Your hair…”
Daphne wasn’t sure what to ask first, but, predictably, her question ended up being about his hair. She wanted to know if it was dyed, a wig, or perhaps temporarily tinted.
What if it’s dyed?
A sudden wave of anxiety hit her at the thought of not seeing his radiant blond hair for months.
“Did you burn it off with lightning?”
For the record, Daphne grew calmer the angrier she became. Her question, polite but clearly biting, made Celestian chuckle softly.
“Took some advice.”
He twirled the ends of his black hair between his fingers.
“What advice?”
“About what the woman I like might prefer. Turns out, it wasn’t that hard.”
Daphne blinked, replaying his words in her mind: black hair, preference, advice… and then—
“The woman he likes.”
Her stomach churned. Black hair certainly wasn’t her preference.
And today was supposed to be Psyche’s one-and-only wedding day. If he had dyed his hair black for the occasion, his intentions were all too obvious.
“Admirable effort, Your Highness.”
“……”
“But no matter how hard you try, you’ll never outshine Rodriguez.”
The mole above Celestian’s right eyebrow twitched.
“Still not quite right, is it?”
Daphne hesitated, her gaze involuntarily drawn to his face.
Doesn’t he own a mirror?
The prince with black hair was strikingly beautiful. Despite having seen countless handsome men in Secradion with similar hair, Celestian’s beauty stood out so much it felt like seeing it for the first time.
His lips, curved with confidence, were a deep crimson, while the sharp lines of his nose created shadows that shifted with the light. His straight brow bones, lightly colored eyebrows, and the ever-present mole above them gave him a unique charm.
“Romeo is…”
Each flutter of his eyelashes was like the delicate wings of a butterfly. Beneath them, his tranquil green eyes resembled a globe painted solely with oceans.
From his elongated neck to the slightly open buttons revealing the sculpted lines of bone and muscle, Celestian was breathtaking.
And that breathtaking prince was looking directly at Daphne, waiting expectantly for her next words.
Just hours ago, Daphne had been ranting about how she would slit his throat if she ever saw him. But now, with him right in front of her, she wasn’t so sure.
Why? After all, using Misha and betraying her was reason enough to beat him to death with a chair.
Oh, right. My gold mine!
Suddenly, Daphne remembered the gold mine. She recalled how reluctant her uncle had been when drafting the deed, muttering about how even that bastard wasn’t worth such a high price.
So, in a few days, I’ll just bring him to my uncle and…
As Daphne considered her options, a dry laugh escaped her lips. Bargaining with the king, only to take the deal back because she didn’t like it and demand her money back? Absurd.
“Beaucater, that wasn’t my question.”
Celestian frowned, urging her for an answer. Daphne shot him a sour look.
“I’m saying you’re entirely unimpressive, just in a polite way.”
His brows furrowed briefly, his expression one of mild surprise. The dealer tapped the table firmly to refocus their attention.
“My apologies.”
Celestian said softly, glancing at his cards before pushing another one toward the dealer and Chadwick. Chadwick revealed his own cards and set them down with a smirk.
“Raise.”
After staring at Daphne for a while, Celestian let out a small sigh. He raised his hand to call a bellboy, who handed him a wad of cash. Without even dividing it, he placed it on the table.
“Where’d you get that money?”
Daphne stared in shock as he wagered five bundles, each worth a million rions, in mere seconds.
“I won it.”
He added five more bundles to the pot.
“No, seriously, where does someone like you even get that kind of money?”
“Oh, miss, you wouldn’t believe it! He comes down here whenever he has the time, sweeps every table clean, and even tips me generously…”
The bellboy who had guided Daphne earlier interjected eagerly, puffing out his chest as he tapped his pocket with pride.
Daphne stared at him silently, and the boy hesitated, his confidence faltering. He quickly lowered his gaze.
“My apologies.”
Why are you apologizing when you didn’t do anything wrong?
Daphne knew her neutral expression often came across as intimidating, especially to younger staff. So, she smiled instead, and the tension in the air melted away.
Colin, previously stiff as a board, bobbed his head in a series of polite bows before scurrying off to exchange more cash.
“Are people scared of you?”
Celestian’s voice was laced with playful teasing. Daphne glared at him.
“Maybe they’ve foreseen your death at my hands.”
“Will you really kill me?”
“Oh, absolutely. Why don’t you even choose how you’d like to die, Prince?”
Daphne brushed a strand of hair away from her face with the back of her hand, wishing she were close enough to slap his cheek.
“If I must…”
Just as Celestian’s lips began to move, the distant sound of a whistle cut through the air.
“Unfortunately, it seems I’m your opponent.”
Chadwick, who had been silently watching, finally spoke. He hadn’t placed his bets yet but seemed amused as his gaze alternated between Daphne and Celestian.
Daphne’s eyes flicked to the gold-trimmed boarding ticket hanging from Chadwick’s pocket like a decorative handkerchief.
“This game must feel far too simple to be worth wagering that, right, miss?”
Noticing Daphne’s stare, Chadwick brought a gloved hand to the ticket, smirking.
“Though, if you were to politely ask me for it—something like please hand it over, Sir Chadwick—I might consider it.”
It was becoming increasingly clear to Daphne that the man she needed to eliminate wasn’t Celestian Theriosa but Chadwick.
She had never shied away from shutting down a provocateur and didn’t mind sending him on a one-way trip to nowhere.
Should I really hit him?
Her golden eyes narrowed slowly, glinting ominously as they reappeared between her lashes.
