Chapter 53
Thank You for Loving Me Until Now
Celestian’s green eyes briefly glanced at the ceiling before settling back down.
With the corners of his lips curling into a mischievous smile, he spoke, “I’ve always made it out alive, and I’ve never died before, so you don’t need to worry. As for Daphne…”
His gaze momentarily lost focus, but it quickly sharpened again.
“I never realized how sentimental you were.”
“Theriosa, you certainly talk a lot,” Oscar snapped.
“Live as long as I have, and see if you don’t start talking just as much.”
Still smiling, Celestian tugged his tie loose. Oscar’s breathing grew heavier. With no one to call for help and no guarantee of survival, the weight of the situation pressed down on him.
“Why… why did you kill the prince?”
“Don’t misunderstand. I had no personal grudge against him this time. It was always Princess Laria who killed him.”
“That’s a lie. Her Highness would never do such a thing. Where is she now?”
“My sister’s wedding,” Celestian answered plainly.
He frowned slightly, seemingly annoyed by the sound of Oscar’s labored breathing in such close proximity.
“She said you’re necessary, so I’ll let you live—for now,” Celestian muttered as he scratched his cheek.
“They say she was once hit by a carriage. Was that your doing, too?”
“Speak clearly, Theriosa!”
Celestian shook his head twice and bit his lower lip. Oscar began to inch backward, glancing over his shoulder toward the door a few steps away.
“Still, your sins won’t simply disappear.”
“What sin are you accusing me of?”
“Of planning to break her ankle—if that’s what it took—to drag Daphne to Agentar.”
With just two steps, Celestian closed the distance between them. Before Oscar could evade him, a sharp kick to the knee sent him sprawling onto the marble floor.
“Ahhh!”
The single strike made his bones feel twisted. Instinctively, he began pleading for mercy while crawling away without hesitation.
Just as Oscar managed to pull himself over the edge of a step, something snagged the hem of his pants. A moment later, the rough sole of a shoe pressed against his already battered ankle.
“Feel it for yourself.”
“AAAAH! Theriosa! STOP!”
Celestian, lips slightly pursed, leaned into the foot resting on Oscar’s leg. The pain radiating from his lower body was so intense that Oscar briefly thought it might hurt less if the bone snapped outright.
“Experience how much it hurts to have a bone break.”
With those words, Celestian briefly lifted his foot before slamming it down onto Oscar’s ankle.
Crunch.
The sound of splintering bone was followed by a guttural cry of agony. Oscar’s body crumpled as he curled up instinctively, clutching at his shattered ankle.
Celestian leaned down, grabbing Oscar’s ankle, and dragged him back onto the platform. The man was so far gone he seemed to have lost control of his faculties entirely.
“Ugh, disgusting.”
Celestian clicked his tongue in irritation as he wiped his hands. The careless drop of Oscar’s leg onto the floor earned another pitiful scream.
Rolling his neck to ease the stiffness, Celestian reached for a sword with a sharply pointed tip and gripped it in one hand.
“Theriosa, you’re insane!” Oscar croaked desperately.
“Yep. I am.”
With a grunt, Celestian drove the blade directly into the area just below Oscar’s ankle bone.
No hesitation. No warning.
“AAAAAH!!!”
Oscar flailed like a fish impaled on a hook, his body writhing uncontrollably from the excruciating pain of the blade piercing clean through his foot.
Celestian watched Oscar’s distorted expression with a cold detachment but soon furrowed his brows.
He had gotten no closer to the answers he sought.
“Who is it, then?”
It wasn’t himself. Nor Psyche Denver. Nor Romeo Rodriguez. Nor even these fools.
“Who’s been trying to kill Daphne?”
*****
Other people’s weddings are boring.
“I’ve been waiting for this day.”
One of Daphne’s grand plans had gone up in smoke.
“Seeing Cele cry…”
She stretched out her hand and absentmindedly examined the sheen of her white silk gloves. Even that bored her, and she tilted her head back to fix her gaze on the chandelier spraying light in all directions.
Romeo was handsome, Psyche was beautiful—she had seen it countless times, and it failed to hold her interest. Even Iel, who despised Psyche with a passion, had clasped her hands together, looking as though she were genuinely celebrating the birth of the new Crown Princess.
Daphne’s gaze shifted to the door. Through a brief gap, she caught sight of a group of women with silver hair.
“Is that the princess?”
Neither Oscar nor the prince was visible. Only a tanned woman with her silver hair styled into an elegant updo and her presumed attendants stood in view. Daphne, assuming the group had likely endured a rough night after the bachelor party, dismissed them from her mind.
The officiant’s voice droned on like a sheep bleating, extending the ceremony for an hour and a half.
Normally, she would’ve spent the time indulging in amusing daydreams. However, the storm of events from a few hours ago refused to leave her thoughts.
“In the original story, Celestian committed treason and died because of Psyche. But now, his goal isn’t to have Psyche… Could it be revenge?”
Either way, the threads led back to Celestian.
“I hate complicated things.”
Daphne clicked her tongue and chewed the inside of her cheek.
Her nature was to face problems head-on and resolve them. But if something hadn’t yet happened, it was best to avoid it altogether if she could.
Just then, everyone rose from their seats as the bride and groom shared their eternal kiss.
“Ugh.”
Daphne feigned a gag in her mind.
“Is it finally over?”
She had thought that witnessing this scene with her own eyes would mark the end of everything.
Maybe the phrase, “Thank you for loving me until now,” would float in the air, signaling the conclusion.
She had spent two years living as if her life were part of a novel, but this wasn’t a story. It was Daphne’s reality. Nothing had ended, nor had she felt the catharsis she expected.
Instead, one truth became glaringly clear.
Daphne Beaucater had utterly ruined Celestian Theriosa’s second life.
*****
The darkened sunset stained the ocean red, sinking beyond the white horizon.
The first-class aft deck, where the reception was being held, was strung with tiny pearl-like fairy lights, giving the feeling of being inside a carousel.
Daphne had already removed herself from the scene. Though she spotted some old university friends, she didn’t have the energy to exchange polite smiles and shallow chatter with them.
“What am I supposed to do?”
Still dressed in her ceremonial attire, Daphne sat alone on a bench in the quiet left corridor. She crushed an unlit cigarette between her teeth—a bad habit she had already repeated five times that evening, fueled by frustration.
No access to the reception. No opportunity to meet anyone midway.
This moment of isolation was, in a way, a blessing, giving her time to gather her thoughts.
“What do I do? Should I just run away?”
She sighed as she glanced down the hallway where knights once again stood guard.
“Why should I run? I could just pay a huge settlement and send him back to Theriosa.”
Until now, she had justified herself by thinking, “I saved him!” But she couldn’t shake a small pang of guilt that she hadn’t helped Celestian, a former prince, find a place in this world.
“If Celestian really has returned, it means he knew everything about his future, right?”
His unnaturally skilled swordsmanship, despite his hands being unmarked by labor, would make sense if he had lived through this once before.
“No matter how I look at it… it seems like he really did return.”
If only she hadn’t interfered. If she hadn’t acted like she knew everything and meddled, or if she hadn’t reported him to her uncle, things might have gone his way.
“If it weren’t for me, maybe Celestian would’ve been by Psyche’s side.”
The thought left Daphne feeling sick. She flicked her unlit cigarette into the ashtray and buried her face in her hands.
“I’m screwed. He must think I’m the worst.”
Her naive schemes had collateralized his future, reducing him to nothing.
Things wouldn’t play out the same way as before. Daphne couldn’t guarantee that Celestian’s life would follow the exact trajectory of the novel she had read.
“In this place…”
What had he been trying to say? Why was she always so impulsive, cutting off his desperate words? Regret gnawed at her.
“But how would Celestian know about my death? In the story, ‘Celestian’ dies crushed under rubble, and ‘Daphne’ dies in a side story.”
Could the Celestian she had read about and the one now alive before her be the same person?
“Or are they different?”
A tiny contradiction began to bloom into a larger question. Daphne, dazed, muttered to herself.
“Why wouldn’t he just give up after coming back to life? He could live comfortably like me, sitting on a pile of money.”
She was choking on frustration, unable to comprehend why people who returned to life always seemed to take on more burdens.
“Who came back to life?”
The familiar voice startled Daphne. She turned quickly, locking eyes with the owner of the voice.
Chills ran down her spine.
