Chapter 44
During the Date
“He’s back again? Has he been to Serenade before?”
Daphne tilted her head, curiosity clear in her voice.
“Daphne, put your hand down,” Killian instructed.
She quickly lowered her hand, realizing she had been pointing. Looking back, she saw the prince again, standing amidst the crowd.
“Did you forget what I told you? That prince has nothing to do with you,” Killian said firmly.
“Godfather.”
Lowering her voice and clasping her hands together in mock deference, Daphne continued playfully, “But how can I not be curious? I’m the only one who doesn’t know his name! Let me guess—it’s probably Blah Blah Rodriguez, right?”
“Rodriguez? No, it’s not. Now, stop paying him any mind.”
“But he’s a prince, isn’t he? So if I go to the palace, he’ll be there year-round instead of Romeo? Godfather, I want to go home immediately.”
With a determined expression, Daphne declared her intention. Killian waved his gloved hand dismissively, his expression oddly conflicted.
“That man is entirely unrelated to you. And you should never cross paths with him in the future.”
“We already made eye contact. It’s fate! I even feel like I’ve seen him before!”
“Daphne, you…”
At her final remark, Killian visibly flinched, his shoulders trembling slightly. His ash-gray eyes looked up at Daphne with a mix of emotions.
“That’s enough.”
Realizing her words were likely a joke, he sighed softly and added, “Let’s not go any further with this.”
“He really dislikes him.”
But it wasn’t just pure dislike; there was something else.
Killian’s expression reminded Daphne of the way she herself looked when she was annoyed by Romeo’s endless antics. Not outright hatred, but rather a twinge of discomfort—something lingering and uneasy.
The look was so unsettled that Daphne briefly considered grabbing her bag and spraying him with some perfume to lift his mood.
Suddenly, she felt an inexplicable prickling sensation at the back of her neck. Turning to look behind her, she saw no one in the crowd paying her any attention.
Daphne brushed a strand of hair from her cheek and tucked it behind her ear.
“Must’ve been my imagination.”
Unsurprisingly, the dashing prince wasn’t looking her way either.
*****
“You ignored me,” Daphne muttered.
As soon as she said it, she seemed to realize what her words implied. Closing her eyes tightly, she added another remark, as if the full meaning had just dawned on her.
“Celestian, you ignored me.”
“I’ve never ignored you.”
“Then what about that time?”
“Which time?”
Which time? We’ve only met so many times, and you’re playing dumb?
Daphne shot him a glare, suspecting he was evading the question. Celestian tilted his head slightly, genuinely looking puzzled. That oblivious act, intentional or not, pricked her pride.
Reaching out, Celestian picked up a chocolate biscuit from the table and held it to her lips.
Daphne hesitated, wanting to refuse, but the eyes of others were on them. Reluctantly, she opened her mouth. The sweet treat melted on her tongue, rendering her unable to speak further.
She chewed sulkily, swallowed, and tapped her lips lightly with her middle finger.
“At the thanksgiving festival in Serenade, I wanted to greet you, but you ignored me.”
“Oh, that time,” Celestian said, the green of his eyes lifting slightly as if trying to recall.
“‘That time’?”
As though searching his memory, his gaze drifted upward briefly.
“If you wanted me to greet you, you should’ve approached first. Imagine how I feel, constantly stepping forward only to be rejected.”
“Constantly?”
“It hurts, you know. I get hurt too.”
Celestian gave her a small, self-deprecating smile.
Was he talking about Psyche?
It was a reasonable guess. Celestian had always been the one pursuing Psyche, only to be repeatedly and coldly turned down.
Daphne let out a soft sigh and waved her hand dismissively. Then, without a word, she turned and leaned her back against his side with an audible thunk.
A faint grunt escaped him, but Daphne didn’t apologize.
Below them, the royal guests were playfully wrestling, throwing off suit jackets and rolling on the ground in laughter.
Daphne realized that Celestian’s body was firmer than she had expected, making him surprisingly comfortable to lean on. And warm, too.
Feigning indifference, she leaned into him a little more. He didn’t seem to mind. His hand, draped over the back of the sofa, lightly tapped a rhythm on the wooden frame as if it were a piano.
“This is… oddly soothing.”
Sunlight streamed onto Daphne’s face, but Celestian’s hand shifted slightly, blocking the brightness. For a moment, everything felt peaceful.
“Daphne!”
The sudden voice broke the stillness. Both Daphne and Celestian turned toward the sound.
The voice belonged to a dark-skinned man with slightly disheveled silver hair. His clothes were rumpled, likely from the wrestling match, but his easy smile was as polished as ever.
“Who’s this?”
Daphne tilted her head, unsure.
“It’s been a while, Daphne.”
The man’s relaxed demeanor and friendly grin were pleasant enough, so she smiled back politely.
“But seriously, who is he?”
She couldn’t remember his name or when they might have met. Judging by his hair and eyes, he was likely from the empire, and since he was here, he was probably a visiting dignitary.
Without offering further explanation, the man strode over and stopped in front of them.
“There’s someone over there you might want to see. Our sixth prince…”
“Who?”
Celestian leaned in slightly, lowering his voice as he whispered the question into Daphne’s ear. She, still trying to recall the man’s identity, didn’t respond.
The man bowed lightly to Celestian, his tone cheerful.
“Duke Theriosa. A pleasure to meet you. I’m Oscar, treasurer for the sixth prince of Agentar, and an old friend of Daphne’s.”
“Friend?”
Celestian’s green eyes darted toward Daphne as he repeated the word. She nodded slightly, wearing a flawless, diplomatic smile.
Celestian’s expression darkened subtly, his displeasure evident. Daphne cupped her hands around her mouth, leaning close to his ear to whisper. His body instinctively tilted toward her.
“Treasurer, huh? I might’ve met him before, but honestly, I have no idea who he is.”
She grinned, her tone light, as if expecting Oscar to chime in with an explanation. Instead, she pulled back, her expression feigning innocence.
Celestian’s eyes, which had flickered momentarily, quickly steadied. Extending his hand, he offered Oscar a handshake without bothering to uncross his legs.
“Oscar, was it?”
Celestian’s tone suggested he already knew.
“You know me?”
“How could I not?”
Oscar hesitated briefly before shaking the offered hand, though the pressure on his fingers caused his expression to falter slightly.
“Still friends, huh? Just business, really,” Daphne thought to herself, recalling that Oscar had worked as a translator during a time of active trade with the empire. He had since risen to the position of treasurer.
Her memory now clear, Daphne felt a flicker of satisfaction—not at the sight of Oscar, but at her own intact recollection.
“Do you remember now, Daphne?”
Oscar’s voice was low and almost teasing. Daphne tilted her head with a light laugh, pretending not to understand.
Celestian still held Oscar’s hand, squeezing firmly. Oscar’s face briefly twisted before he managed to school his expression. His hand, now sore, was tucked discreetly behind his back.
“Newspapers often feature you. You’ve grown into an even more remarkable woman.”
Daphne nearly retorted, “So what?” but settled for a small nod.
Men like Oscar, quick to build rapport and leave good impressions, were a dime a dozen. She didn’t dislike him, but sitting beside the prince, she couldn’t help but feel conscious of Celestian’s presence.
“The sixth prince would like to meet you. Also, Princess Laria is here, someone you’ve wanted to meet.”
Oscar’s words prompted Daphne to frown slightly.
“If they want to meet me, why don’t they come here? Why summon me?”
She narrowed her eyes but raised a hand to shield herself from the sun, disguising her annoyance.
When Daphne showed no sign of rising, Oscar turned to Celestian.
“Your Grace, may I borrow Daphne for a moment?”
“Borrow her?”
Celestian’s lips jutted out slightly as he responded sulkily.
“I mean—uh, not borrow, but rather…”
Oscar hesitated, his grasp of Secradion’s language faltering.
“If your prince wants to see my lover, tell him to come here himself.”
Celestian’s pronunciation was sharp and precise, his tone regal.
“Once again, the sixth prince of Agentar formally requests Daphne’s presence.”
“What does that have to do with me? And we’d prefer not to be disturbed.”
“Pardon me, but…”
“You have eyes, don’t you? We’re on a date.”
Daphne nearly clapped in delight at Celestian’s bold reply, but instead leaned against his side again, showing her agreement without a word.
“Daphne, the sixth prince wishes to see you,” Oscar repeated.
“I’d like to see him too~ but my legs are sore today. Is it going to rain?”
Lifting the hem of her dress slightly, she revealed a faint scar winding up her leg. Oscar’s expression darkened.
“If it’s important, I’ll visit the empire myself later. For now, I’m busy.”
“Amber Green said she was planning to sell roses to the empire,” Oscar added, his tone pointed.
“Since when did my mother sell roses?”
Daphne narrowed her eyes, then quickly connected the dots. Ah.
The mention of roses was clearly a veiled reference to the marriage proposal Amber had been negotiating with Agentar.
Oscar added with a faint smile, “A rose not plucked at the right time loses its value. In Agentar, used goods are considered less than worthless.”
