Chapter 35
My Princess
They had just barely managed to board the ship in time.
Daphne pressed her toes firmly into the carpeted hallway, as if trying to leave a mark with each step.
Children and adults alike crowded the corridors and open cabin doors, chatting excitedly. Everyone seemed caught up in the excitement of the grand ship’s maiden voyage.
Daphne felt the same thrill. Her golden eyes sparkled as they curved gently with her smile. The sound of the ship’s horn echoed multiple times, followed by the creaking noise of the anchor being lifted.
The Page-René began moving forward slowly. From the harbor, colorful ribbon fireworks burst in celebration.
‘So peaceful.’
Yet Daphne couldn’t fully enjoy the spectacle. Her gaze was drawn downward.
‘When is he planning to let go of my hand…?’
The reason was the stranger’s hand she had been holding this entire time. As soon as she became aware of it, she relaxed her grip—but he didn’t let go.
‘He’s probably used to holding hands with every girl he meets, but I’m not comfortable with this.’
Ever since Romeo had debuted in society at sixteen, he had made a habit of holding the hand of every lady who extended theirs to him. His hand must have ached from all that socializing.
‘Typical prince behavior.’
Daphne didn’t bother asking him to let go. Instead, she just wiggled her fingers slightly in his grasp.
His hand, visibly one that hadn’t seen much hardship, had an oddly smooth texture.
‘What’s this?’
Curious, Daphne lifted his hand and spread his palm open. The soft skin there bore faded scars, the kind that looked like they had been left by a blade cutting deeply, now healed into pale marks.
‘It looks like his palm was torn through. That must’ve been serious.’
She flipped his hand over, but the back of it was smooth, save for prominent veins.
“What happened here?”
The strange smoothness made her trace the scar with her fingertip.
Celestian remained silent for about ten seconds before finally giving a brief answer.
“I got hurt.”
“Cele, I asked why you got hurt.”
He only blinked at her, offering no further explanation. Daphne quickly lost interest and let go of his hand.
“You can keep holding it. Your hands are cold.”
Celestian didn’t withdraw his hand. When Daphne just stared at him, he even extended his other, unscarred hand toward her, the motion oddly graceful today.
“You make it sound like you’re doing me such a favor, Your Highness.”
Daphne shook her head, declining his offer. His hand was indeed warm, but holding it any longer felt like it might be more dangerous for her heart than helpful.
“Most swordsmen have rough hands.”
She muttered the thought aloud.
Kisha, who had been training since age nine, certainly had calloused hands. Even Romeo, who had been so dedicated to fencing lessons, had palms worn from practice. And even she herself, who mostly handled guns, had her share of hardened skin.
‘Maybe it’s just different for him.’
Letting go of the thought, Daphne leaned her elbows on the railing and rested her chin on her hand.
Meanwhile, Celestian continued to quietly examine his own palm.
‘How do I get to my cabin?’
The area leading to the first-class cabins was guarded by royal knights. If her guess was right, the deck just below them would be empty. Taking the passage through the engine room at the stern would be the fastest way to slip into the first-class section.
“Cele, let’s go.”
“…I’ll try.”
“Huh?”
Daphne tilted her head. For some reason, he looked… downcast.
“Uh… Sure. Do your best, I guess? But… at what, exactly?”
Without answering, Celestian clenched his fist, then silently walked past her.
Quickly catching up, Daphne tapped his shoulder twice.
“Hey, Your Highness. This way.”
*****
Beyond the intense heat of the engine room, a long stretch of iron walkways awaited. After climbing several flights of stairs, the grand dining hall would appear, and beyond its elevators lay the first-class cabin section.
Daphne mentally reviewed the map she had memorized countless times. Then, she glanced over at the prince, who was dressed as if he were flaunting wealth.
‘Good thing I brought a formal suit just in case.’
The black hair still bothered her, but since he had been naturally blond from birth, it would probably grow back in a few months…
‘Wait, wait? I can’t stand waiting!’
Daphne, who once paid millions to bribe an author just because she couldn’t bear waiting for the next volume of her favorite romance novel, was now expected to wait for hair to grow?
“Is that really dyed?”
“No.”
“Then what is it?”
Celestian, who had been leading the way, suddenly stopped. Daphne nearly bumped into his back. Rising on her toes to peek over his shoulder, she saw a towering navy officer guarding the entrance to the engine room.
He was clad in the navy blue uniform that was a source of pride among Secradion men — one Romeo often wore instead of his royal regalia.
“Restricted area. Authorized personnel only.”
She could almost hear the grumbling from earlier gamblers about the excessive use of the capital’s military force.
“We’re authorized,” Daphne answered briskly.
The officer, standing in the sweltering heat with a sweatless, crisp face, only irritated her further.
“Miss Daphne Beaucater.”
“Wouldn’t ‘Ms.’ be more appropriate?”
“And… companion.”
“Hello? Did you just ignore me?”
The tanned, square-jawed officer shifted his gaze toward Celestian. His stone-like brow furrowed deeply.
‘Oh, right.’
Secradion soldiers practically worshipped the king.
Publicly, it was said that after Queen Rose Green’s death, the king had transferred his authority to his son. Few knew of his worsening illness or his descent into gambling.
To the people, he remained a gentle ruler who deeply loved his kingdom. And Celestian? A prince accused of trying to kill that beloved king…
Daphne glanced up at Celestian. But instead of being wary, his green eyes were calmly focused on her.
‘Look at those pretty, innocent eyes. Does he look like someone who’d do that?’
Still, just in case, she gently linked her arm around his. Feeling the solid strength beneath his sleeve strangely gave her confidence.
After all, while it was illegal for soldiers to strike civilians, it was perfectly justifiable to apprehend a traitor.
Daphne had already decided — if things escalated, she’d throw herself to the ground and start wailing for sympathy.
“You two are especially restricted from entering.”
“My cousin owns this ship. Who says we can’t?”
The officer hesitated briefly.
“…By direct order of His Majesty.”
‘My uncle? What does he have to do with this?’
Daphne blinked in confusion.
“Aren’t you supposed to be attending the wedding? Or didn’t you get an invitation either? If you let us through now, I could make it worth your while—”
“I was personally invited by His Highness the Crown Prince and ordered to guard this post. Secradion soldiers do not accept bribes for personal gain.”
“Rude. Don’t interrupt when I’m talking.”
“…I apologize.”
The officer gave a shallow bow and resumed staring straight ahead like a statue.
‘Well, he does look like a stone idol. Perfect job placement.’
Daphne pouted. These ‘justice warriors’ were never easy to deal with. She took a small step forward, only for the officer to rest his hand on his holstered gun.
“Princess, let’s just go.”
‘Princess…?’
Celestian’s voice was light, gentle even. The sudden nickname sent shivers down her spine.
Daphne squinted suspiciously at his dazzling smile.
“This guy clearly isn’t going to move. No point wasting your energy here,” he added, still annoyingly sweet.
Daphne stood frozen in disbelief as Celestian smoothly intertwined their fingers and turned her away from the guard.
She kept frowning, replaying the scene over and over in her head as they ascended two flights of stairs.
“Why did you call me that?” she finally demanded.
“Call you what?”
“Princess. You did it before too, in front of Romeo.”
“Back then, I didn’t know your name. Now, you told me not to call you by it, so I picked something else.”
“You were fine using my last name before!”
“We’re pretending to be lovers, remember? If I called you ‘Beaucater,’ people would get suspicious.”
Daphne was the type to charge forward when focused on something, rarely listening to others. Celestian had effortlessly dismantled her focus today.
Had he not stopped her, she would have barged into the engine room, consequences be damned.
“No one’s ever called me princess before.”
“Ah?”
Celestian tilted his head, clearly teasing.
Worried her face had turned red, Daphne rubbed her cheek with the back of her hand.
“I made sure they wouldn’t. I killed it off.”
Princess had been a nickname Romeo used when teasing her as a child — Dirty-mouthed Princess, emphasizing both her foul language and behavior.
Being called a royal lady never bothered her. But for some reason, princess felt unbearable.
“Well, that just makes me want to keep calling you that. After all… you are my princess.”
Daphne halted on the stairs, blinking.
Three steps below, Celestian stood, his green eyes shimmering with mischief as he gazed up at her.
My princess.
The phrase sounded oddly familiar. Not like how Romeo teasingly called her my villainess — it felt… different.
But where have I heard that before?
It wasn’t from the recent fireworks ball, or even a year ago.
Had she met Celestian before all this?
She kept searching her memory as they returned to the third-class deck, standing side by side at the railing.
But the harder she tried to recall, the more blurred the memories became. All that surfaced was the image of Celestian smiling elegantly beneath a chandelier while she watched him from afar.
“Celestian, have we met before?”
Finally, Daphne abandoned her thoughts and asked him directly. Celestian, as if avoiding her gaze, stared out at the sea — the same soft green as his eyes.
“Yes.”
The waves below crashed gently against the hull.
“We’ve met many times. Though, you don’t seem to remember.”
A sea breeze swept through, stirring his shirt and hair as though caressing him. His vague answer only tangled her thoughts further.
Daphne was no ordinary noblewoman. She was the cousin of the crown prince, the notorious rival of the woman Celestian once pursued.
As far as she could recall, she had never even spoken to Celestian directly before. At most, they had crossed paths at a few formal gatherings.
Daphne pressed her lips together in thought.
Just as Celestian seemed ready to elaborate, a young girl came dashing down the corridor, slamming headfirst into Daphne’s waist with a loud thud.
“Oh!”
Daphne quickly knelt, steadying the small child.
‘That sounded like a hard fall.’
Brushing off the girl’s dress gently, she debated whether to check her head.
“I’m sorry, princess!”
Daphne stiffened.
The little girl blinked up at her with wide brown eyes.
“It’s fine! Are you okay, little princess?”
“Yes! I’m fine. Here, for you.”
The girl beamed, pressing a flower into Daphne’s hand before dashing back toward the third-class banquet hall.
Daphne stood, idly twirling the flower between her fingers. Then, her gaze fell on it fully.
A white lily?
Not dyed blue, not a decorative bouquet — a plain white lily.
Trimmed carefully, just as one would for mourning.
Daphne stared after the child, an uneasy chill creeping up her spine. A white lily at a wedding? It felt… wrong.
