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Chapter 22:
With That Filthy Mouth, How Dare You…It was the day of Jeremy’s birthday banquet.
By that time, Celia had been completely cleared of the accusation of assassinating the emperor. The powers that sought to bury the truth were stronger than those who tried to uncover it—but above all, the dead emperor had been utterly unloved.
Typically, a mourning period for a deceased emperor would last over a month, during which members of the imperial family wore black mourning clothes.
But one of the three dukes, Illeon, suggested that instead of such a lengthy mourning period—which would leave the throne vacant for too long—they should hold a grand celebration for the crown prince’s birthday.
Jeremy, eager to ascend the throne, had no reason to reject such a proposal.
Even though Celia had been discovered at the scene of the emperor’s assassination, she faced no punishment. The decisive factor was the testimony of Dietrich, who had first found her.
“An intruder took advantage of lax security to assassinate the emperor and fled, pinning the blame on Celia Brillion, who happened to be present. Everything was orchestrated to implicate her.”
Coming from none other than the emperor’s closest aide and commander of the imperial knights, Dietrich’s words held immense weight.
Though he was criticized for failing to protect the emperor, the ministers couldn’t dismiss Dietrich based on that alone.
After all, the emperor habitually dismissed his guards when he summoned women to his chambers.
And with all who confessed to the murder being executed, no one pursued the matter any further.
Thus, Celia went unpunished despite having killed the emperor.
What’s more…
‘What’s that?’
Leaning halfway out the window, Celia watched as a knight placed a ribboned gift box in front of the mansion early in the morning.
Dietrich exchanged a few words with the knight, then listened to what seemed to be a report from his aide.
‘Does that man never sleep?’
As if he’d read her mind, Dietrich suddenly looked up at her.
Their eyes met, and Celia, visibly displeased, drew the curtains shut.
A few minutes later, Dietrich entered the room, placing the gift box on the floor.
“It’s a gift from His Highness the Crown Prince,” he said.
Celia blinked.
“Why would he send me something?”
“Shouldn’t you know better than I?”
Dietrich untied the ribbon on top of the box and opened it, revealing its contents.
It was a pure white mermaid dress, with a deeply cut back and neckline, adorned with expensive pearls along the hem.
It looked more suited for a bride about to walk down the aisle.
“Looks like the crown prince intends to make you his crown princess,” Dietrich sneered.
Celia didn’t react. She had encountered such things far too often to be surprised anymore.
Even unrelated Brillion males had once been desperate to make her their wife. It wasn’t unusual for some to sneak into her room at night just to take her virginity.
‘The only thing that’s changed is that the suitor is now the crown prince instead of a noble heir.’
While he wouldn’t pull such stunts inside the royal banquet hall, who knew what he might do afterward?
Clearly, people—including the crown prince—believed she posed no threat.
‘Otherwise, he wouldn’t dare send me such a dress.’
Celia unfolded the mermaid dress, its tight-fitting design emphasizing every curve of the body.
Thump—
A letter fell from the dress.
Their eyes landed on the message written inside.
“From Jeremy, future ruler of Avalon:
Wear the dress I gave you. I insist.”
Dietrich twisted his lips in disbelief.
“The empress won’t let this slide. He’s truly a fool.”
Celia replied casually,
“Even if something happens, you’ll protect me, right?”
Dietrich narrowed his eyes at her.
Despite her words, Celia found the whole situation around her bizarre.
No one sought to punish her for killing the emperor—in fact, they were shielding her.
Dietrich had certainly helped, but there was more to it than just that.
She looked at his profile, lost in thought. The unusually deep shadows beneath his indifferent gaze suggested he wasn’t in a good mood.
“…Those three dukes you mentioned—they’ll be at the banquet today, right?”
Dietrich had told her they were his true enemies. Celia intended to see them for herself and make her own judgment.
“Who knows? They’re important people, after all.”
“Wait, are you saying they might not come today? That’s not what you said before!”
“Do you think you can just meet them because you want to?”
“…You jerk!”
Celia grabbed his coat. Dietrich’s gaze dropped to where she clutched his clothing.
Celia’s complexion had improved lately—perhaps thanks to proper rest and food.
Not long ago, she had seemed on the brink of death.
Now, unlike her frail self of the past, she looked vibrant and full of energy.
“By the way, your non-blood-related family will also be attending the banquet today.”
The Brillion barony had never once been invited to a royal banquet.
Celia couldn’t not know—Gabriel had endlessly pleaded to go to the palace.
“I didn’t invite them.”
“Then who did?”
“The empress, probably.”
Dietrich placed his hand over hers. His hand, rough from wielding swords, completely enveloped Celia’s small one.
He gripped her fingers tightly and gazed at her.
“You hold hands so naturally now.”
Celia replied,
“So, do you not like it?”
Since he’d offered her a leash, Dietrich had casually taken her hand like this many times.
Yet he had revealed nothing about his true identity or abilities.
What was strange was that Celia didn’t entirely hate the gesture.
It calmed her, like pouring cold water into a burning chest.
‘Is he some kind of walking sedative? This is weird.’
She looked at him silently.
And Dietrich did nothing beyond holding her hand.
Celia finally voiced a question she’d long held in:
“Is there some meaning behind this act?”
“…”
“Wait… could it be that you also have a power like mine?”
Dietrich gave her a blank look.
“Of course not.”
He let go of her hand. His fingers slipped away and came to rest in her shimmering silver hair.
“If I had powers, I’d have no need for something like you.”
The words were barbed. A warning not to speak lightly of abilities again.
Celia laughed. So the talk of leashes and ownership was all a lie.
She hadn’t expected anything anyway—but his blunt clarity was oddly welcome.
“Right, Master.”
If being a dog meant being ready to bite its master at any moment, then Dietrich was already an excellent mad dog.
Celia realized then—Dietrich wasn’t called the emperor’s mad dog for nothing. It was by his own choice.
Even as the emperor’s closest aide, he had always harbored ulterior motives.
‘…Why?’
Was it revenge? Or a plan to raise a rebellion by getting close to the emperor and gaining a dukedom?
If his real enemies were the three dukes, and he was using her to fight them, then it all made sense.
Dietrich wasn’t normal. A sane man would never infiltrate Avalon’s imperial palace with the intent of seizing military power.
The banquet hall was packed with people.
Since it had been so long since the last celebration, guests were filled with anticipation.
No one among them mourned the death of the useless emperor. Their focus was solely on currying favor with Jeremy, the next emperor.
Nobles, dressed immaculately, sipped wine and chatted.
“Do you think His Highness will announce the coronation date at this banquet?”
“Certainly. The throne can’t remain empty for long.”
Celia’s name inevitably came up in the young noblemen’s conversations.
“Now that she’s cleared of assassination charges, the angel of Brillion has no reason to remain in the palace.”
“Whatever the circumstances, we may get lucky and see her today. I wonder if she’s as beautiful as the rumors say. Rumors always exaggerate, after all.”
Young noblewomen nearby scoffed.
“Anyone would think this is Celia Brillion’s banquet, not His Highness’s.”
They disliked Celia. She was the most sought-after woman in a cutthroat marriage market.
Yet she was a street orphan from a lowly family.
Had she been born into a ducal or at least a count’s house, they wouldn’t have disliked her so much.
All their etiquette and education became meaningless next to the name “Celia.”
“I heard she was sent to the emperor’s chambers… Could she even still be pure? A woman who’s no longer chaste has no value in the marriage market.”
At that, a man who’d been quietly drinking wine suddenly exploded.
“Watch your mouth! How dare you speak of her with that filthy tongue?!”
He was already red-faced from several glasses of wine, even though the banquet hadn’t officially begun. His mustache quivered in rage.
“If you haven’t seen her yourself, keep quiet! The angel of Brillion is purer than anyone here!”
Though a commoner, he was a successful merchant known for supplying goods to the imperial palace. That status earned him repeated invitations to court banquets.
He had once traded his entire fortune to be introduced to Celia—and she had been breathtakingly beautiful, like a being from another world.
Smitten at first sight, he had tried everything to make her his mistress. But he was just one of many.
He had been furious when she entered the emperor’s chambers.
And now, hearing someone speak ill of her—it made his blood boil. When Celia had been arrested for assassination, he had even bribed people to spread the idea that she had been framed.
Drunk, he didn’t realize someone was now standing behind him.
A smooth, gentle male voice whispered into his ear:
“Tell me, wealthy man—
Have you ever actually seen the angel of Brillion?”
