“Episode 7”
“I’ve made your room like this, haven’t I?”
The tone and gaze were full of coquetry. It felt like someone inside Daphne’s mind was constantly poking at him, accusing him of committing crimes with his wealth.
“Sigh.”
“Ah.”
Successfully buttoning up to the collar, Daphne, pretending it was a mistake, grabbed his collar tightly before quickly withdrawing his hand.
“I knew you’d be like this at least once.”
Even though he claimed to like Psyche, sometimes when his feelings were twisted, he would randomly destroy her house and build it anew.
Once, when she read about this in a novel, she thought, ‘Look at this obsession,’ and hit the wall, but now that she experienced it firsthand, she felt an urge to punch him in the perfect face.
“Anyway, it’s time for a change.”
Not even applying much pressure, Celestian trailed his fingers around Daphne’s neck and lowered the corners of his mouth. It didn’t hurt at all, but he pretended to be in pain for no reason.
“Even though your face turned into a beehive?”
It was a conversation about the portrait that they had intentionally avoided.
“Ha…”
As she sighed, Celestian grinned broadly.
“Cele.”
The gentle eyes looked straight at Daphne.
“Do you know who painted that?”
“Someone painted you?”
“Yeah.”
“I see.”
Celestian chuckled again.
“It’s a rough and poorly painted picture, I get it.”
“Poorly painted?”
“Even the court painters were called to paint it.”
“No. Our grandmother painted it.”
The lie came out effortlessly. Daphne’s maternal grandmother passed away when she was too young to remember.
“That’s her masterpiece.”
Celestian chuckled again, then widened his eyes belatedly and made an excuse.
“It meant she couldn’t capture the real thing. I know a bit about oil painting, and the coloring technique was so sophisticated and delicate that I expected a great artist to have painted it.”
“You’re trying hard.”
Even after covering Daphne’s face with both hands, there was still a large hand left, which he used to pat her around.
‘I can’t believe he’s bleeding because of his obsession with Saint John’s Wort.’
He went out in the morning and came back in the evening, hoping to rest a bit, but he was writing like a madman again.
“Cele, I’m busy. I’m really tired when I come home.”
“I know.”
“If you know, just stay quiet.”
Isn’t this line usually said by the regretful male lead when the female lead is about to stack up misfortunes?
“You shouldn’t play around with Shasha and disturb me when I’m not here. If you want to move, practice swordsmanship. And if you want to eat something, politely ask Narid.”
Daphne kept feeling a sense of unease while speaking. She thought she should ask Psyche later. Has Romeo ever heard such words from him?
“Do I have to ask knights or maids for favors? And politely at that.”
It stung as if there were glass shards stuck in his clothes, around his back and calves.
“Yeah.”
Daphne continued to speak while continuing to unbutton his shirt and gently pulling down his thigh cuffs. Suddenly, a wave of drowsiness rushed in as he yawned.
“The reason why my people call you Prince and why Maril didn’t shoot you with a fully loaded gun when you acted like this today is because I, the owner, ordered it. I’m the master of this house. Not you.”
“Viewcater, I got it. But why are you taking off your clothes?”
“You need to understand the topic, Cele.”
As he unbuckled his pants and pulled down the hem of his thigh, Celestian raised his voice a tone louder from the side.
“Okay, I get it, I understand. But why are you undressing?”
Surprised by his exaggerated reaction, Daphne turned to look at him.
“I’m wearing innerwear inside.”
As if to prove it, she soaked her shirt to reveal the lingerie, causing him to hurriedly clench his fists and cover his eyes.
“Can’t I undress in my bedroom? And look outside. It’s night. It’s time for bed.”
As soon as he said it was time for bed, Celestian’s Adam’s apple gulped.
“Will you come to bed with me?”
“Did you get shot?”
“Didn’t you see yesterday? It was a lovers’ quarrel.”
“Oh.”
As if it didn’t matter, the secretary removed her hand from Daphne’s face. It felt subtly pushed away.
“Misha, are you feeling emotional right now?”
“It must be my mood. You can go upstairs to your seat on the second floor today.”
Misha skillfully redirected the conversation. Daphne nodded her head for a moment, then paused. Did she mishear something? Daphne raised an eyebrow and asked.
“The second floor?”
Misha took out the invitation from her pocket and looked it over, then nodded.
“Yes, the left balcony.”
“Wait, seriously on the second floor?”
“Yes, on the second floor.”
Daphne’s heart felt unsettled as she looked into Misha’s confident gray eyes.
“Why? I usually sit next to Stella.”
“Today’s seat belongs to Miss Psyche. This dinner party is for the engaged couples.”
“Oh, so there’s no place for discarded goods in the marriage market?”
Countess Konya, or Stella’s main items, were robust whiskey and champagne with a fresh grape aroma.
Daphne was excited to receive the boxes and was thrilled at the thought of having a drinking party with the maids at night.
“My seat is on the second floor?”
Stella was Daphne’s peer, and they had a decent relationship. Although she didn’t notice any particular signs when they greeted each other earlier. It felt like being completely pushed to the back.
As Misha said, it was natural for the protagonist to sit next to the host at such parties. Although superficially, Daphne was famous as Psyche’s rival, but that was a thing of the past!
“Boss, His Royal Highness the Crown Prince is also here today.”
Misha found an idol to admire and whispered. Piqued by the hint, Daphne, who was completely sober, muttered very softly as she sipped champagne.
“The protagonist has returned without disgrace.”
“Miss, be careful what you say, as the walls have ears… But if so, who will the steel industry go to? Does His Highness have insurance?”
“He probably does. But I’m not the heir.”
Misha sighed loudly.
“What a shame.”
It was Romeo, who had gone as an envoy to Herbon. Did he say something about laying down railroad tracks that could cross over there?
“The Duke has no ambition. If it were me, I’d capture that bastard and make him a prisoner.”
Daphne sensed a rotten taste in the alcohol, not grapes. She couldn’t share this kind of alcohol with the employees. Furthermore, she didn’t even want to introduce such alcohol to the customers.
“Let’s stop dealing with Konya from the next quarter.”
“Isn’t that a bit sudden?”
“The alcohol has lost its taste. You’ve lost your initial spirit.”
Misha hesitated, swirling the champagne, then nodded her head, saying it still tasted just as good as before. Daphne pursed her lips.
Resting the glass on the table, Daphne leaned against the railing and looked down at the floor. The protagonist with jet-black hair, taller than all the men here.
Daphne’s cousin was incredibly handsome. Even if he did something regrettable, just looking at his face would calm her down. And next to him, sticking to his arm, was Psyche, who was small but had a unique presence.
Psyche, radiant as ever, was wearing a dress Daphne had never seen before today.
It seems the twelve dresses Daphne gave her before were too few for the future princess, who was preparing to attend parties before her wedding.
The secretary, who seemed to have no intention of greeting them, quickly descended the stairs instead of me. Psyche, arm in arm with Romeo, looked around the hall as if searching for someone. First, on the first floor, then the staircase, then the right side of the second floor, and finally the left.
Their eyes met. Smiling broadly as if she had been waiting, Daphne waved her hand, and she hesitated.
Psyche rolled her blue eyes around, then quickly lowered her gaze, wrapping her pink lips inward, pretending not to see, and hid behind her fiancé’s back.
