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CHAPTER 16:
The Princess Loves Blue Eyes!
There was a considerable distance between Dietrich’s mansion and the Empress’s palace.
Since the imperial palace grounds were so vast, they inevitably encountered palace staff along the way.
Gardeners pruning branches of lush trees and chattering maids all stopped what they were doing and stared in the same direction.
“!”
It was a rare and astonishing sight.
The man with hair as black as ebony had a flawless and stunningly handsome face.
With a smooth forehead, sharply defined nose, tightly closed jawline, and lips that seemed unfamiliar with smiling, his expression conveyed a sense of aloofness—almost ascetic in nature.
His broad back and rock-solid physique gave the impression of someone strong and dependable—someone you’d want to throw yourself into.
It was Dietrich.
There wasn’t a single maid working in the palace who didn’t secretly admire him. Yet, Dietrich was impressively impartial—he showed no interest in anyone.
As the rumors of the “Emperor’s Mad Dog” suggested, he remained steadfastly by the Emperor’s side.
Even at palace banquets, where countless noble ladies showed him affection, he would keep his mouth firmly shut.
It was a well-known story that Illeon’s younger sister had expressed interest in Dietrich, only to be coldly rejected. No matter who approached—even the daughter of one of the Three Dukedoms—he never let anyone near.
The few maids who served Dietrich were all women who had been abandoned by their families due to their blindness.
There were even foolish women who had blinded themselves, thinking he might hire them. Of course, Dietrich never did.
And yet now, Dietrich was walking in step with a woman.
The sight was so unbelievable that the onlookers couldn’t trust their own eyes. Their gaze naturally shifted to the slender woman walking beside him.
She wore a dull, outdated gray dress that clashed with the golden splendor of the palace.
Under the breaking sunlight, Celia’s long silver hair fluttered gently in the breeze.
Her snow-white cheeks bore faint dimples, and her delicate, butterfly-like lashes fluttered open and closed, revealing vibrant green eyes that were almost too beautiful for this world.
Though they had never seen her before, the people instantly knew who she was: the woman once hailed as the “Angel of Brillion”—now a criminal, accused of assassinating the Emperor.
The saying “clothes make the person” was false—any garment looked like wings when worn by an angel.
Even those who had scoffed at the rumors now gazed at Celia with blank, stunned faces.
That frail woman killed the Emperor? The absurd rumors heard outside the palace suddenly seemed plausible.
Rumors whispered that Celia had been falsely accused by someone who truly wished the Emperor dead—that she never actually committed the crime.
A breathtakingly beautiful woman swept into the whirlwind of imperial politics.
But why was she walking beside Dietrich?
Not just anyone—Dietrich, the Emperor’s loyal hound.
A woman branded with regicide and the Emperor’s feared sword—together?
People looked at the pair with confusion… but also thought, strangely, they looked perfect together.
Because both were impossibly beautiful—almost unreal.
Men looked at Celia with lustful eyes, while women glared at her with envy, admiration, and jealousy.
Men looked at Dietrich with the same tangled emotions, and women thought they would have no other wish if they could just fall into his arms.
“Why is the Duke of Calypso with that woman?”
“…I heard from a friend in the Empress’s palace that Her Majesty summoned her personally.”
“My god. She was accused of killing the Emperor—yet released with no charges?”
“Who knows? But she really is as pretty as a doll.”
The maids lowered their voices, staring at Celia with curiosity.
“But what are the two of them even talking about?”
One maid whispered, but Dietrich’s sharp ears caught it clearly. He looked down at Celia with an expressionless face.
“You could walk faster.”
“…Are you showing off your long legs now? Can’t you at least hold my hand?”
Celia reached out her hand. Her pale little hand was much smaller than Dietrich’s. His brows furrowed at the sight.
A memory he had momentarily forgotten came back. It was that hand that had once held his face and refused to let go.
Recalling her blissful smile while kissing him fiercely until his lips went numb—an unpleasant feeling surged through him.
“…”
Dietrich didn’t take her hand. Instead, he silently strode ahead.
“Follow me. Unless you want to get lost.”
“!”
Dietrich was already far ahead. His long legs made it almost impossible for Celia to catch up.
Now walking at his usual pace, he was far too fast. It looked like walking, yet felt like running.
Celia had to run just to keep up. She finally caught up, breathless, as they reached a massive palace entrance. His wide back looked unbearably arrogant.
“Bastard.”
She cursed under her breath at his back. A faint smirk—almost like a sneer—flickered across Dietrich’s lips.
The knights guarding the Empress’s palace froze on the spot. They had never seen Dietrich smile before, not even once.
He was famously expressionless—so much so that people wondered if he even had emotions.
But the smile disappeared as quickly as it came. The knights tilted their heads, thinking they imagined it.
Soon, a maid from the Empress’s palace appeared.
“Duke Calypso, Her Majesty awaits in the drawing room. Please follow me.”
Dietrich and Celia followed her.
They stopped in front of a large room. The golden doors were inlaid with bright red rubies. Celia thought the color looked just like Dietrich’s eyes.
“Your Majesty, I’ve brought Duke Calypso and the prisoner.”
“Enter.”
The door opened, revealing a woman lounging on a plush sofa.
The Empress, with voluminous golden hair and violet eyes, was middle-aged but looked younger thanks to her meticulous self-care. Yet, crow’s feet and smile lines betrayed her age.
Her expression hardened the moment she saw Celia standing beside Dietrich—but she quickly covered it with a faint smile.
“So you’re the criminal.”
Celia instinctively sensed how much the Empress despised her.
“I summoned you because I was curious if you were as beautiful as the rumors claimed…”
The Empress’s gaze examined Celia from head to toe.
With her long silver hair like starlight, soft white skin, and verdant green eyes, she looked like everyone’s first love.
Celia was stunning. She seemed to radiate light.
But no matter how beautiful she was, it didn’t change the fact that she was a criminal.
Even if she escaped prison thanks to countless men’s help, she would forever be branded as the woman who assassinated the Emperor.
And the Empress herself would make sure of it.
Curling one side of her lip, the Empress openly mocked her.
“Seeing you in person, those stories about angels and first loves seem exaggerated.”
“…”
“Utterly ordinary. What are men lacking that they’d lose their minds over a not-so-pretty criminal… Tsk.”
Celia agreed with her. She’d always thought the same.
Even back when she was a princess of the Kingdom of Shan, men lusted after her. There were even those who tried to take her before she was ten—it was horrifying.
Once, when Celia complained to her mother, the Queen gave a baffling response:
“Asha, it’s because you’re too beautiful.”
“Asha” was Celia’s childhood nickname. Her real name was Anastasia.
“Mother, does beauty mean they can just take what they want? Do you know what happened this morning? Popo—my parrot—”
Popo was her beloved parrot with red feathers, a gift from the King, who could mimic speech.
She brought Popo everywhere. Everyone in the kingdom knew how much the little princess adored her bird.
One day, Popo suddenly shouted something strange:
“Princess Asha loves blue eyes! Loves blue eyes!”
Her heart sank.
Very few had access to Popo, and the culprit was caught quickly.
It was her personal guard—Dylan—a man with blue eyes.
The same Dylan who’d always protected her from lecherous men had taught Popo that line.
Celia couldn’t believe it.
Dylan was quiet and dependable—unlike other men. She had even trusted him with Popo. But he had betrayed her.
He was dismissed from service, but Popo never stopped.
“Princess Asha loves blue eyes!”
He had only taught it once, but the bird repeated it endlessly.
Watching Celia depressed, her mother had stroked her hair.
“Don’t worry, dear. Someday, your true partner will appear—someone who will protect you.”
Celia had pouted.
“Mother, what if he’s weaker than me? Father taught me how to use a dagger yesterday. He said I had talent.”
“What? He taught you that? Dangerous!”
Her mother fussed, checking her hands for injuries. Seeing none, she let go and added:
“Remember. Your partner will protect you—from all threats.”
Her mother had spoken with unwavering faith, green eyes sparkling with impossible hope.
As expected, none of it came true.
Their peaceful kingdom was reduced to ashes by Abelon. Her kind parents were beheaded. And she was still the target of men’s desire.
Celia killed the Emperor with her own strength.
After the kingdom’s fall, she hid her identity and smuggled herself into Abelon.
She survived the slums, got adopted into House Brillion, suffered through hell, and endured for revenge—all on her own.
Now that her body was ruined and her life nearly over, even if that “partner” her mother spoke of appeared by some miracle, Celia would refuse.
Remembering all this darkened her mood.
Celia lowered her gaze to hide her emotions from the Empress. She stared coldly at the floor, lips tight.
Dietrich, standing beside her, silently watched her.
Following his gaze, the Empress bit the inside of her lip. With a forced smile, she dismissed him.
“You may leave now, Duke. I have things to discuss alone with this criminal.”
