Chapter 38
Because You’re Not Here
Daphne pressed her lips into a firm line. She wanted nothing more than to storm into the groom’s waiting room, grab her cousin by the ankle, and dunk him into the sea.
But could she really overpower that burly ex-naval officer? Especially here, on the water?
“No.”
Dropping the note to the floor, Daphne stood on tiptoes and grabbed a dress off the hanger.
The only thing she could think of that might’ve upset him enough to pull a stunt like this was the fact that she’d been dragging Celestian around everywhere.
“Didn’t he say he wouldn’t meddle? Guess he did anyway.”
The image of the navy man, with his stone-cold face resembling a Moai statue, flashed through her mind.
“Well, credit where it’s due.”
There probably wasn’t another woman in the world as insane as she was—someone who’d bring her fiancé’s mortal enemy as her fake lover and even bring him along to the wedding.
“It’s mourning wear.”
— Psyche. I’m serious. If you tell me you’re marrying Romeo, I’ll show up in mourning clothes and ruin the entire thing.
At the time, it had been a jealous villainess’s line, splashed across gossip magazines. But it had come from a place of truth—Daphne’s desperate attempt to save Psyche from that lunatic.
Daphne let out a dry laugh and ripped the veil off the dress, tossing it aside.
“Who else but Romeo would prepare something like this?”
Her cousin had been determined to make her cry since they were children.
And the reason? “Because it’s fascinating,” he’d said. Every time he acted that way, Daphne could only sigh and get on with her life.
When they reached adolescence, his antics escalated. He’d claim her hair was a fuse and try to set it on fire, steal love letters from boys who had crushes on her, and host public readings of the letters to humiliate them until they ran away.
After her accident, though, things had been peaceful for a while.
“How long is this going to go on? When are you finally going to grow up?”
Daphne rubbed her twitching mouth and slammed the bathroom door open. Celestian, who turned to look at her leisurely, didn’t seem the least bit startled.
“Why aren’t you surprised?”
“Because I knew you were the only one outside.”
Daphne glanced down at his shirt and pants, tossed carelessly beside the tub, before stepping over to the sink. The smudged mascara around her eyes still hadn’t fully come off.
“Celestian.”
“Hmm?”
He looked up at her. Daphne grabbed two strands of hair that had fallen over her collarbone and shook them.
“If I go out like this, it’ll look bad, won’t it?”
Celestian gazed at her intently.
“…Why?”
He tilted his head as if he genuinely didn’t understand. His green eyes seemed to speak only the truth, but Daphne had hoped for a different reaction.
“Because I didn’t tie my hair.”
“Is that something you need to do?”
“By now, the party must’ve started. I’ll probably be the only one there with my hair undone.”
“And so what?”
Celestian’s confused expression convinced her to never ask him such questions again.
“Never mind. I’ll just go out and ask someone…”
She waved her hand dismissively, thinking she’d find anyone outside to braid it for her.
“Want me to do it?”
“What?”
“If it’s something simple, I can manage.”
Celestian clasped his large hands together and mimed braiding hair. It seemed almost magical, and Daphne immediately handed him a comb. She also grabbed two hair ties and turned her back to him, sitting near the tub.
The floor was wet, but she didn’t care since she was going to change clothes anyway.
“Into that damned black dress.”
Celestian shook the water off his hands before gathering her hair. She heard the faint splash of water behind her as he shifted his position. Daphne squeezed her eyes shut, trying to suppress her rising curiosity.
He began combing through her hair with surprising gentleness, as if he cherished every strand of her long red hair that reached down to her waist.
“Celestian, do you… have kids?”
“Kids?”
His voice, so close behind her head, sounded overly tender. Daphne found herself silently praying to a god whose name she barely remembered.
“Are you a dad or something?”
A pair of slightly damp, warm hands brushed past the nape of Daphne’s neck and her ears at regular intervals, then withdrew.
Wow.
Daphne belatedly realized that her choice had been a terrible mistake.
Every time he ran his warm hands through her hair, she felt as if she might melt into water. Each of his subtle movements was accompanied by the gentle sound of water shifting.
“I… don’t have you, Daphne.”
Celestian’s voice was faintly muffled by the soft splashing sound.
Why does the way he says that word—wife—sound so sweet?
Daphne silently basked in the joy of her own misinterpretation.
“So, of course, there’s no way I’d have children.”
Seeming to have untangled her hair sufficiently, he began braiding it into two sections from the back of her head. Goosebumps rose along her scalp and neck.
“Did you braid Anne’s hair too?”
“Yeah. A feisty little lady.”
“Not Pippi?”
“…Who’s Pippi?”
“She’s got red hair and freckles, like Anne, but she’s a bit more… eccentric.”
A brief silence followed.
She wondered if he was too focused on braiding to hear her and was about to speak again when he broke the quiet.
“You’re a bit scary and, well, a bit eccentric too. That’s true.”
“Hey!”
“But Diana suits you better.”
His gentle murmur carried a faint hint of amusement, like a breath of air mixing with his voice.
Is this guy insane?
The comment reverberated through her head like a loud bell tolling, throwing her mind into disarray despite its simplicity.
“…My name is Daphne.”
When she first realized that many classic novels were intertwined with her own reality, she had gone to great lengths to make sure she never developed freckles on her nose like Anne.
“Finally allowing me to call you by your name, are you?”
“You’ve been calling me whatever you want this whole time.”
Diana was a figure that many spirited girls with Anne-like temperaments had likely dreamed of being at least once—a kind of idol to aspire to.
It was a relief he wasn’t facing her.
You twisted pervert. Control yourself.
Daphne chastised herself. She didn’t need a mirror to know her face must’ve been bright red.
“Alright then, Daphne.”
When she started to turn around, Celestian softly hushed her, holding her head still as he worked on her hair.
Daphne reached for the finished braid that had been brought over her shoulder. It wasn’t a simple braid but an intricate pattern. His skill with his hands was undeniable.
When did he even learn to do this?
He brought the other braid over her opposite shoulder, and Daphne traced the raised ridges of the braid with her fingertips.
“Your hair’s still a bit damp.”
Celestian lightly flicked at the stray hairs near the back of her head with his index finger.
“It’s fine. It’ll dry quickly.”
Feigning indifference, Daphne stood up and left the bathroom in a hurry, not sparing him a glance.
*****
Daphne slipped into the black dress, letting her neatly braided red hair rest over her shoulders. At this moment, she looked every bit like a young noble lady.
“I’ll just make something up.”
The black shirt and dress pants lay neatly folded at the bottom of the wardrobe. Daphne carefully folded them and placed them outside the bathroom door, declaring firmly that she would not act as his attendant.
“Head straight left to the deck. No point running; you’re stuck on the ship.”
After driving the warning home, she left the cabin first.
Exiting the hotel section, she walked toward the promenade on Deck A. There, she spotted a crowd of nobles adorned with flashy accessories, their outfits glinting under the sunlight.
“Romeo, where is that idiot?”
While Daphne strode with irritation, the others passing by all wore flushed, excited expressions.
They leaned casually against the white iron railings, chatting about the grandeur of the ship and the evening’s upcoming banquet.
The bright sun still hung high in the sky, casting a crisp light. The salty ocean breeze was invigorating, and the emerald sea, split by the ship’s passage, sparkled with snowy foam that scattered in its wake. Everything seemed perfectly serene.
But then, something felt odd.
“Why is everyone wearing black?”
She had expected to stand out because everyone else was supposed to be wearing shades of blue, the event’s dress code. But contrary to her expectations, everyone was clad in neutral tones.
Black suits, black dresses, black shirts, and black skirts—though the jewelry they wore gleamed brilliantly.
“Did the program change?”
Daphne had been in charge of the guest list and the dress code, but the broader event details had been entirely left to the royal family.
“Oh, that must be why he had those lilies…”
She suddenly recalled the bouquet of white lilies Celestian had been carrying.
She wanted to curse Romeo for not giving her a heads-up, but it was likely because of the ever-so-dignified royal family, who probably had dandelions growing in place of brains.
At the harbor, many guests had been wearing blue, so it seemed everyone must’ve changed once aboard the ship.
“Lady Beaucater, your dress is rather understated today. It suits you well.”
“Thank you.”
As expected, this area was packed with familiar faces. Daphne found herself hugging and exchanging cheek kisses with an acquaintance every five steps.
Reaching the third-floor railing near the stern deck, Daphne sat at a café table and tried to estimate where the royal palace of Secradion would be visible.
She tugged at the ends of the ribbons Celestian had tied to secure her braids, ensuring that the wind wouldn’t loosen them.
Then, someone approached her from behind and leaned over, trapping her between their arms on the table.
What the—?
Daphne spun around, ready to punch the intruder square in the face.
“Dedee.”
The man caught her wrist before her fist could land. As expected, a pair of golden eyes twinkled down at her with a mischievous smile.
Romeo.
