Chapter 52
I Hate This Kind of Wedding
Daphne stared at the slip of paper with a disgruntled expression.
In essence, it was asking her to understand that Celestian couldn’t accompany her because it was “beyond his authority.”
The note had been scrawled so hastily that Daphne had to read it twice to grasp its meaning. She clicked her tongue in annoyance.
Celestian, having glimpsed the note over her shoulder, leaned down slightly to whisper in her ear before she could turn to him.
“Daphne, it’s fine. I’ll wait for you.”
Daphne looked up at him. He had been expressionless all this time, but now he was smiling faintly, the corners of his lips slightly upturned.
“This way, Your Grace,” said one of the officials.
“Just send him back to the cabin…” Daphne started to protest.
“It’s for monitoring purposes. If he tries anything reckless, it could cause major trouble.”
Daphne’s eyes widened.
“Reckless? What kind of nonsense is that?”
Had she been completely unaware, she would’ve thrown a tantrum and demanded they let him return to his cabin. But there was something unsettling about the sight of Celestian smiling so calmly.
“It’s not just a smile—it’s the kind of smile that says he knows exactly what’s going on.”
The aide continued speaking, but Daphne, frozen in place, couldn’t make out any of the words. Before she knew it, Celestian had been escorted away.
Daphne stood there blankly for a moment before stepping into the hall. She hesitated and quickly turned back, just in time to see the heavy doors slowly closing behind him.
“Ah…”
She realized she should’ve said “yes” to his last words.
—Lady Beaucater, are you truly prepared to take responsibility for everything?
*****
“This is where the wedding is taking place?”
The prince of Agentar mumbled in confusion. Oscar, too, looked visibly unsettled.
The grand hall located below the second-class seating was the venue indicated by the Secradion Crown Prince’s aide. It was dazzling enough to host a wild party at any moment, but there wasn’t a single person in sight—not even an ant scurrying about.
“They claimed it was for harmony with the commoners. Tch.”
“I’ll look into it immediately,” said Oscar, bowing deeply in apology beside the irritated prince.
After seating the prince and his attendants at a table, Oscar hurried toward the door to investigate. However, before he could leave, the door opened from the other side.
Entering were the prince’s younger sister, Laria, the first princess of Agentar, and five of her maids. Laria’s dark eyes looked curiously up at Oscar.
The princess was wearing a foreign-style blue dress rather than Agentar’s traditional attire, which made Oscar’s brow furrow momentarily. He quickly composed himself, bowed, and greeted her.
“Your Highness, Princess.”
“Where are you going?”
“It seems this isn’t the venue for the royal wedding. I was on my way to verify.”
Laria frowned deeply as she plopped into one of the white satin-covered chairs. One of her maids handed her a bottle of wine.
“This is the place. Romeo Rodriguez of Secradion personally discussed harmony, and the commoners were informed as well. They mentioned there’d be a slight delay.”
Laria muttered irritably, “Stop fussing and have a drink. Everyone should be here within a few minutes.”
“It feels improper for royalty to wait on foreigners like this, Laria,” said the prince.
Despite his words, he gestured for their attendants to take their seats. With Agentar’s knights stationed outside, there was no need for concern. The group quickly took their places at various tables scattered around the room.
“Brother, then you shouldn’t have boarded this ship in the first place.”
“Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten our goal.”
“It’s your goal, not ours.”
“Same difference.”
The prince moved slowly toward his sister. Her sarcastic smile widened as she poured Agentar’s finest plum wine into the glasses on the table.
“Your plan is to ‘deal with that Green family girl,’ right? Don’t you think it’s embarrassing for a prince to resort to kidnapping?”
“With Amber Green’s fortune, we could fund more than ten thousand mercenaries. Once the crown prince is dead, the world will be ours.”
The prince grinned, lifting his glass of his preferred drink. Soon, he pulled one of the maids onto his lap and laughed in a way that seemed thoroughly unrefined.
“Just ten thousand?”
He drank the wine she offered without a hint of caution.
As the maids diligently refilled glasses around the room, the other men followed suit, drinking without hesitation.
“Idiots.”
Laria couldn’t help but feel relieved that she only shared half her blood with him.
“Besides, isn’t there some baggage hanging around her now? A few months ago, she was alone, but now she’s always with some guy.”
“Just some guy? That’s the Grand Duke of Theriosa.”
“Tch, it’s just a ceremonial title. That so-called duke owns nothing more than a ghost island.”
Laria’s dark, obsidian-like eyes gleamed as if she were about to say something. But before she could, the prince, after just two drinks, was already losing the light in his eyes.
“That girl, though… she is quite pleasing to the eye. Much more so than the other one.”
“Well… that’s because he’s not all bluster. Laria, is this wine strong…?”
“Of course he’s not all bluster.”
Laria muttered under her breath.
The prince suddenly realized that his lap felt light and the woman he had been holding was gone. He flailed his hands aimlessly, his speech slurred, and his vision dimming. He blinked rapidly, trying to regain his focus.
“So careless. Even Theriosa, who’s never met you, already knows your stupid plan. You should at least care about your dignity. Oh, wait—you don’t have any left.”
Laria stood up, brushing off her elegant dress. She adjusted the three-carat diamond ring on her finger before raising her fist and striking her half-brother squarely across the face.
The prince collapsed to the floor without so much as a whimper.
“Tsk. If you ask me—or anyone, really—you’re the real baggage here.”
Oscar opened his eyes, feeling as though they were filled with sand, dry and gritty. The first thing he saw was the bloodied toe of a shoe.
“Hello.”
The man standing over him pressed Oscar’s cheek lightly with his foot—not hard enough to hurt, but enough to humiliate.
Oscar tilted his head to look up at the man pinning him down. Though the room was almost pitch-dark, the man’s small, sharply defined face was visible as if lit by a spotlight.
Celestian hadn’t even bothered to crouch. The sole of his shoe hovered near Oscar’s nose, preventing him from meeting the man’s gaze.
“Why are you waking up so late? Making me wait,” Celestian’s irritated voice descended like a blade, sharp and cutting.
The air reeked of booze and blood, a nauseating mixture that hung heavily around them.
“W-Why are you doing this? If there’s something you want—”
“How do you speak?”
“What?”
“Oh, I must’ve forgotten to cut your tongue.”
Celestian muttered to himself, shaking his head slightly as if he found the idea bothersome. “Didn’t I say I hate that kind of tone?” he murmured.
Oscar’s shoulders began to tremble faintly. He could see a familiar silhouette behind Celestian’s ankle.
“What have you done to the prince?”
“What have I done?”
Celestian paused, rocking his foot back and forth three times against the floor.
“This is only my fourth time on this ship, and yet, your behavior is always the same. It’s nauseating. If you prepare rebellion this sloppily, even stray dogs can smell it coming.”
“….…”
“I always wondered why you kept targeting Daphne, but this time… I understand.”
He gave an ambiguous grin, one that sent a chill down Oscar’s spine.
“What could you possibly understand?”
“Right now, Daphne is capable, beautiful, and utterly lovable. A woman like that is bound to attract everyone’s attention.”
“Do you really think it’s as simple as that?”
“Oh? Are you trying to deny it?”
Oscar blinked, confused by the rhetorical question. No matter what came to mind, it was clear this wasn’t a situation where answering would help. So, wisely, he kept his mouth shut.
“Smart of you,” Celestian said, lifting his foot off Oscar.
Oscar slowly gathered himself, trembling as he stood. Celestian watched him calmly, showing no rush or concern. Even with his back straightened, Oscar still had to tilt his head slightly to meet Celestian’s gaze.
“Small,” Celestian remarked casually.
Oscar didn’t snap back. Instead, he let out a low growl while instinctively stepping backward, putting more distance between them.
“The Sixth Prince is a future emperor. To treat his aide like this…”
“To my memory, he’s never made it to emperor. He always dies before then. Probably this time too.”
“What?”
“He’s likely crocodile food by now.”
Oscar stared into Celestian’s green eyes, trying to determine if he was joking. But it didn’t seem like a lie.
His gaze wandered to the bodies strewn about the hall. From the marble podium where they stood to about twenty paces down, the corpses of Agentar knights lay scattered. Oscar clenched his teeth.
“It wasn’t me who killed them.”
“You’re not going to say that’s wine all over you, are you?”
Celestian glanced down at the bloodstains smeared across his body, then shrugged indifferently. The silence that followed made Oscar instinctively hunch his shoulders. He fumbled nervously at his waist.
“Looking for that?”
Celestian nodded toward a table behind him. On it lay various weapons bearing the crest of Agentar.
Oscar’s hand fell away, realizing it was futile. His lips tightened as if trying to suppress his rising desperation, his words tumbling out like he was being chased.
“This is an act of war. Celestian Theriosa, do you think you can get away with this unscathed?”
“You’re the only one panicking. Can’t you see everyone here is already dead?”
Celestian shrugged again, unbothered. Oscar’s face twisted with the indignity of the situation, his growling becoming more pronounced.
“I swear, I’ll kill you. And Daphne Buchanan won’t escape punishment either. Neither will this kingdom!”
Celestian arched a brow, almost amused by Oscar’s outburst.
