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Chapter 25:
Will You Become Mine?
Celia pulled her wrist away.
“Duke Gredrick.”
She met Eleon’s gaze.
Her words came out as if she were spitting each syllable with disdain.
“I am not Dietrich’s woman.”
“And I’m supposed to believe that?”
Eleon smiled smoothly as he gently stroked Celia’s hair.
His lips smiled, but his eyes did not. With calm, quiet eyes, he looked down at her.
“Lady Celia. Is becoming the Crown Prince’s mistress truly what you desire?”
“No.”
Celia slapped Eleon’s hand away with a loud smack as he continued to braid her hair without permission.
“I don’t want anything.”
“Nothing?”
No—there was something she wanted.
There were so many things Celia wanted to say to the one who had destroyed her homeland.
Was it really you who brought down my kingdom? Why did you kill every last one of us? And why did you destroy even Inata, your own ally nation?
But the moment she stood face-to-face with the Emperor, every intention to ask those questions disappeared.
Instead, Celia had killed the Emperor who lusted after her—without hesitation.
Was Dietrich right? Had Eleon really been the one to destroy her kingdom?
True, Eleon was skilled at hiding his true thoughts. But was that enough to assume he was the one responsible for its ruin?
Celia trusted neither Dietrich nor Eleon.
“To me, it seems you do want something.”
Eleon lifted her chin with a finger. Staring directly into the clear blue eyes beneath his well-shaped brows, Celia suddenly remembered something her old pet parrot, Popo, used to say:
“Princess loves blue eyes! Princess loves blue eyes!”
What had happened to Dylan, the knight who had taught Popo those words?
Not long after Dylan was dismissed from his post as her guard, the kingdom had fallen.
Dylan’s eyes were blue—just like Eleon’s.
And yet in this moment, Celia found herself desperately missing the red-eyed Dietrich.
She didn’t even know why. Had she been relying on Dietrich without realizing it?
On a man who tried to use me? Me? Why?
Celia’s eyes widened.
No matter how weakened she was, depending on a man? That was beneath her.
Was it because of the way he used to brush crumbs from her lips with a look of annoyance? Or how he would stop walking and wait silently whenever she said she was hurting?
When Dietrich held her hand with that detached expression, it somehow brought her peace.
Whenever he laced his fingers through mine, I felt calm… safe.
“Ah!”
In that instant, Celia had a sudden epiphany.
She finally realized something crucial: Dietrich possessed an ability—just like her.
Why had she assumed she was the only one with a special power? Dietrich had acted as a kind of sedative to her, a stabilizer for her mind and body.
Looking back, there had been signs.
He’d known about abilities. Her powers didn’t work on him. Celia’s ability, which worked easily on men, had no effect on those with powers of their own.
Because everyone else had died, she had never considered that Dietrich might have powers too.
That was the trap.
Now that she thought about it, perhaps Dietrich had survived precisely because of his own power.
Suddenly, Celia grabbed Eleon’s hand. He stiffened at the unexpected touch.
“Thank you! You’ve helped me reach a major realization.”
“…?”
Eleon blinked, clearly confused.
“May I ask what that realization is?”
“It’s a secret.”
Celia had no intention of telling this suspicious man what she had just discovered.
Eleon smirked, trying to provoke her.
“You’re about to become the Crown Prince’s mistress, and yet you can still smile?”
“Crying won’t change anything.”
There was a glint of interest in Eleon’s eyes.
“Do you happen to have a way out of this situation?”
Instead of answering, Celia gave him a dazzling smile.
Her lovely emerald eyes curved prettily. Her silvery hair, even lighter than Eleon’s, sparkled under the faint moonlight.
She was breathtaking—more than worthy of her reputation as everyone’s first love.
Most men wouldn’t be able to resist such beauty.
But Eleon saw things differently.
It was this overwhelming beauty that had led her to misfortune.
If she hadn’t been so beautiful, she wouldn’t have ended up in the Emperor’s bed or caught the Crown Prince’s eye and fallen to the status of a mistress.
Everyone likes beauty. No one chooses the ugly over the beautiful.
But beauty like hers made everything else meaningless.
All this time, men had likely been too captivated by her looks to ever see the real Celia.
Even the fact that she killed the Emperor had been overshadowed by her beauty.
So that’s why the Empress made such a request of me…
Eleon let out a quiet laugh at the Empress’s cruelty.
Yes, he’d come to the imperial banquet to see Celia—but also because the Empress had sent him a private message:
“Duke, can you obtain a poison that disfigures the face?”
Eleon’s fingers idly brushed the vial hidden inside his sleeve.
To Eleon, the Empress Erpia had outlived her usefulness.
You were a mere illegitimate child of the former Duke, and yet you rose to be Empress—impressive, but that’s all.
Without his help, she would’ve been deposed long ago.
As for Jeremy, the next Crown Prince—he didn’t meet Eleon’s standards either.
Maybe I should just become Emperor myself…
Long ago, a pact had been made among the three Dukes, forbidding any of them from claiming the throne directly.
In the early days of the Avalon Empire, the three Dukes had fought violently for the crown. Countless citizens had been dragged into the war and died; rivers ran red with blood.
The succession war had dragged on for over three years. In the process, the three houses lost more than half their troops—and with it, their public trust.
It was a war of loss, not gain.
In the end, the three Dukes swore a public oath before all of Avalon, promising never to let such a tragedy happen again. They installed the youngest surviving imperial heir as a puppet Emperor.
Outwardly, they pledged loyalty to the Emperor. In secret, they worked tirelessly to restore their houses’ prestige and power.
Many tried to eliminate the Dukes over the years—but it was never the Dukes who disappeared.
Eventually, the three houses allied. No other family could oppose them.
Centuries passed, and the Dukes came to rule above the Emperor.
They held more power—but were never Emperors themselves.
Eleon resented that fact.
Why should he suffer because of some foolish oath made by his ancestors?
Of the three Dukes, Valt was a Swordmaster but couldn’t control his rage. The second, Arthur Cervantes, had isolated himself in his own domain.
Dietrich wasn’t even a real Duke.
His title was nothing more than a gift—an empty honor Eleon had bestowed upon him.
What kind of Duke had no land?
But then, why did Dietrich spare this woman?
Surely not just because she was beautiful. That would make no sense.
Eleon fiddled again with the poison vial—just a drop could horrifically melt one’s face.
“Lady Celia.”
“Yes?”
“Will you become mine?”
Celia quietly smiled and released the hand she’d been holding. The moment her warmth left him, Eleon felt a twinge of regret.
“No. I refuse.”
She met his eyes. Her fresh green gaze sparkled like stars in the night sky.
“I don’t belong to anyone.”
As soon as her words ended, a firework exploded in the sky with a loud pop!
Eleon stopped fidgeting with the vial and looked up at the colorful sparks lighting the night.
“That was a very fitting answer, Lady Celia.”
Eleon placed something in her hand. It was a small vial, no larger than a knuckle, filled with a clear liquid.
Celia gave him a questioning look, and Eleon smiled as he answered:
“It’s a gift from me. If anyone asks who gave it to you, say it came from someone very important.”
“…”
“It will help you when you’re in danger.”
“Why are you giving this to me…?”
“Who knows.”
Eleon tucked a lock of her hair behind her ear and said plainly:
“I suppose I just happen to like people with conviction.”
