| 5. Why Is the Prince Acting Like This

<The Mad Villainess of Beaucater! Will She Attend Next Month’s Royal Wedding with a Traitor?>

This was the content in the ‘Today’s Trouble’ section of the tabloid. With a very large headline, no less. Kisha, who was looking at the newspaper, shook his head.

“A traitor. Miss will be angry again.”

And he glanced at the man leaning against the railing of the middle stairs in the room.

His golden hair and loose white shirt shone brightly, backlit by the sunlight pouring in from the landing window. The man was more than just tall and handsome.

‘Why is he standing like that?’

A maid who had approached from behind suddenly stopped and punched Kisha’s back, scolding him.

“Narid, it hurts!”

“I told you to go and ask him to move aside, why are you still standing here? I just need to clean the second floor.”

“Don’t you have a mouth?”

“You’ve even subdued him before, what’s the big deal? You even hit him, didn’t you?”

The man, who had woken up early for the first time since coming to this house, was scanning the room as though he was measuring something. The servants had to work while feeling tense.

Kisha once again made a bewildered expression as he clenched and unclenched his fist.

“That’s why I’m scared. What if he beats me up?”

“What’s there to be scared of? You’re the winner of the swordsmanship competition.”

“That’s the problem.”

“How is that a problem? You should do what you’re paid for by Miss, you idiot. Let me finish cleaning and go eat dessert quickly!”

The continental swordsmanship competition where Celestian caught Daphne’s eye was notorious for its rampant slaughter.

The strange benefactor who had easily subdued the orphan swordsman who had stubbornly survived until the end, and then inexplicably forfeited, allowing him to win.

But a few days ago, Kisha had hit that benefactor.

“He’s His Grace the Grand Duke who’s said to command ghosts as soldiers. You know I’m afraid of ghosts.”

“That’s because his title is no longer valid, you fool. Do you want to get hit by me?”

“Aren’t you scared?”

“Of course…!”

Narid turned her head to look at the man who was now tilting his head back to stare at the ceiling. She involuntarily gulped.

She was quite well-versed in gossip circulating from the bottom to the upper classes.

The Grand Duke of Teriosa was famous for turning people he disliked into a bloody mess, despite his beautiful appearance which was like a bright moonlight.

There were even rumors that he had returned to the kingdom after being reinstated by blackmailing the king, and that he was in cahoots with the pirates of Libian.

“I’m scared! That’s why I’m asking you!”

“Is this how you ask for a favor? I’m going to tell Miss everything!”

“Miss likes me more, you know?”

Narid raised her fist again. Finally making a decision under the continued threats, the boy moved with heavy steps. Kisha mumbled timidly.

“Um… Your Grace.”

Although Kisha himself wasn’t particularly small, standing right in front of the man made him seem at least a hand span taller. There was a yellow bruise, now starting to fade, on his fine face.

‘I’m screwed.’

Some instinct of Kisha’s was telling him this.

“Hmm?”

However, the man only looked down at the boy with his green eyes.

“My friends need to clean, so I kindly request you to step aside a bit.”

The man tilted his head to the right and scanned the servants fidgeting behind Kisha. Then, with a quite friendly smile, he opened his mouth.

“I was here first.”

That was true.

“That’s what I’m saying. They keep telling me to go and talk to you. They wonder if you’re a real person, saying you look like a moving statue. Yeah.”

Kisha laughed awkwardly. Narid rolled her eyes and slapped her forehead with her palm.

“Your Grace, Narid wants to go up, five steps would be enough.”

“I see.”

“Oh, I’m honored.”

Celestian smiled faintly at Kisha’s words.

“Kisha.”

Kisha’s pupils suddenly dilated.

‘How does he know my name?’

When Kisha had faced him in the tournament, he didn’t have a name to introduce himself with. Later, when they met in Daphne’s room, he was only introduced by his surname. Before Kisha could wonder about this, Celestian opened his mouth.

“Who was it that I loved?”

“Pardon?”

Celestian didn’t repeat himself. Kisha scratched his cheek and rolled his eyes for a moment. Just as he was about to answer ‘Our Miss,’ Narid, who was standing next to him, cut in.

“It’s Miss Psyche of Denver, isn’t it? There’s not a young lady who doesn’t know. Our Miss knows too, right?”

“Right, it was Psyche.”

Celestian agreed without hesitation in a dry tone. Thanks to this, Narid and Kisha’s moods were ruined.

“Kisha.”

Celestian held out his large hand. Kisha looked down at the clean, long, slender fingers and the deep scar across the palm that seemed to have never known hardship.

“What can I do for you?”

“Lend me your sword.”

Kisha reflexively stepped back, touching the sword hanging at his waist.

“I’m bored. My body feels stiff too.”

Celestian lowered the ends of his eyebrows and clenched his fist, tapping his own shoulder.

Until the knight system was abolished in the kingdom, boys who dreamed of becoming knights knew about Teriosa. Kisha was also one of the boys who admired him.

It was indeed enough time for a great swordsman like him to feel stiff after being cooped up for days. However, at least in this room, that was a different matter.

“That seems a bit dangerous.”

“Do you think I can’t handle a sword?”

“What? No, that’s not it.”

The face tilting its head and the light green eyes, like a freshly sprouted bud, looked flawless.

“If that’s not it. Do I look dangerous?”

Celestian bent his waist slightly to match Kisha’s eye level. Kisha hesitated once more.

Just beyond the walls of Beaucater’s mansion, there were still many who were desperate to kill Celestian. Kisha hadn’t given it much thought, but he was a traitor who had tried to assassinate the king after all.

The Ghost Grand Duke, so capable in combat yet so docile only to Daphne. Even when the servants showed their dislike while grudgingly greeting him, he didn’t ignore them and even smiled handsomely in return.

“I won’t do anything. I’ll just stretch my body.”

To sum it up, he seemed to have no ill intentions.

“I’ll find you a wooden sword.”

While Kisha was contemplating whether to hand over his real sword, Narid cut in again.

Following Miss’s order to treat him like a prince, Narid dutifully grabbed both sides of her skirt and bowed politely.

“Would you please wait in the garden for a moment? Kisha will help you with your training.”

“The garden is far.”

“It’s right outside the back door, the rose garden!”

He slightly raised his left eyebrow, expressing his disagreement.

Narid recalled another rumor about him. The gossip that he had annihilated and covered up the Count’s family to possess the lady of Denver was very famous in social circles.

A beautiful stalker, a two-faced psycho!

As if to contradict that rumor, he pretended to be gentle in front of their lady, but now Narid could see that he was just barely pretending to be polite.

‘There must be a clear reason why Count Serenade particularly disliked him.’

Moreover, the previous master would tremble so much just at the sight of this prince. To the extent that they hid all newspapers related to him.

“We can’t do anything without the lady’s orders, Your Grace.”

“The lady’s orders?”

“Yes.”

Narid’s voice trembled slightly. She acted tough, but honestly, she was scared.

“Can’t be helped then. Thank you.”

However, the verbal or physical abuse she had tensed up for didn’t come. He just smiled, lifting the corners of his mouth, then returned to a straight line.

Narid was momentarily dazed but quickly came to her senses.

“Could I trouble you to move aside a little?”

“That might be difficult since I haven’t gained anything.”

A handsome face smiling with his head tilted to the left.

Narid almost lost her senses again but grabbed her mental strings once more. The afternoon cake was waiting for Narid.

“Tell me what your lady likes.”

Narid could confidently answer this question.

“The prince.”

The prince Narid referred to here meant Romeo, who had currently ascended to the position of crown prince.

“Me?”

Also, as far as she remembered, the last man Daphne had shown interest in was the black-haired prince. There was even a time when she said she hated blonde hair!

‘And now, Miss has everything she likes.’

This was the maximum revenge Narid could manage.

“She especially likes the prince’s appearance above all.”

Unaware of the maid’s inner thoughts, Celestian seemed satisfied with the answer, straightening his back and moving exactly five steps.

Narid brightened up and quickly ran up to the second floor.

‘I think Narid just got played.’

Kisha shrugged his shoulders.

“Please call if you need anything.”

After relaxing his tension and bowing slightly, he turned his back to return to his post.

“Oh, Kisha. I’ve been quite forgetful lately.”

Kisha tried to move quickly upon feeling a presence suddenly right behind him.

“So I had forgotten for a moment.”

However, his shoulder was already firmly grasped. It seemed like just a light grip, but it hurt terribly. Kisha frowned.

“The other day.”

“Yes?”

Celestian was smiling brightly, so Kisha also smiled, pulling up the corners of his mouth. He was clearly smiling warmly right in front of his face, but somehow it sent chills down Kisha’s spine.

“It was you who hit my face, wasn’t it?”

* * *

‘Who cares who I bring to the wedding. They must have too much space to fill.’

Daphne, belatedly checking the newspaper, inwardly chewed out and tore apart the tabloid as she passed through the mansion’s main gate.

“Eating my money and writing this kind of article? Do you want to die?”

She had returned home carrying an armful of pink hibiscus flower bouquets that Celestian liked. Of course, Daphne wasn’t carrying all those bags herself; Misha, her personal bag, was carrying them.

“Ah, Miss, you’ve returned……”

Narid, with a pale face, had come out to greet her employer at the front door of the Marquis’s residence.

“Narid, you’ve come out so far. My legs are fine, I can get in by myself. Is something wrong with the room?”

She, who had received the cake box from Misha’s hands, kept glancing at Daphne all the way back to the room.

“Um, Miss, the prince, no… uh……”

“The prince? Why?”

“Well, you see, Kisha……”

Narid’s face turned blue. Daphne could sense it.

‘So the trophy has finally thrown a fit.’

She smiled faintly and pretended to leisurely enjoy the view of the Angel River, while Narid just stamped her feet, fearing the approaching storm.

As they reached the front of the room, all the room servants were waiting outside the door for Daphne.

“Miss!”

“Oh my. What’s all this about?”

It was as if they were greeting a savior who descended to earth. Feeling slightly burdened by their unusually intense welcome, Daphne stepped back.

“Hey, what’s wrong with your face?”

Misha rushed over in one breath. Then, grabbing Kisha’s face, he burst out laughing.

“Didn’t you say you were quitting? Why are you back?”

Kisha grumbled sulkily. From an angle where Daphne couldn’t see, she just stared curiously at Kisha’s long hair at the back.

“I wrote my resignation and came to pack my things.”

Misha and Kisha gritted their teeth at each other.

“Anyway Miss, I’m sorry. I’ll pay for it with my life.”

Before Daphne could check Kisha’s face, he buried his head on the floor and begged forgiveness.

“Hey, hey. Someone might think I treat you like this. Get up.”

“I’ll pay the remaining debt with my life.”

He said it a deliberately theatrical in tone.

“Your life isn’t that cheap. Get up while I’m asking nicely.”

Daphne said indifferently and then looked around at the servants’ faces. They each had different expressions — some were pale, some were red, some were blue.

“Looks like something big happened.”

A strange excitement gripped Daphne. It was similar to the feeling just before untying the ribbon on a gift.

As she opened the door and entered, white scratches were elegantly drawn here and there on the blue marble floor. Daphne rubbed it with her shoe.

“Are these sword marks? Where did the sword come from?”

“Well, the traitor……”

“The prince.”

Raising one eyebrow as she corrected, Narid immediately changed her words.

“The prince subdued Kisha and took it from him.”

“Kisha? With one hand?”

The ancient liquor bottles that had been placed for decoration were completely shattered, and the round tapestry that had been covering them was torn like pizza slices. He had thrown quite an artistic fit.

‘If this is the price for his face, it’s cheap.’

“How did you know?”

The comment about subduing with one hand was just something Daphne had thrown out there, but Narid looked at her with a pale face.

What happens when a swordsman loses his sword? Isn’t that almost like castration?

“To think our Kisha has become a eunuch.”

Daphne clicked her tongue and finally stood right in front of her room. The mahogany wooden door was also terribly scratched.

“Oh dear.”

Daphne had been thinking of remodeling before this season ended anyway. Just then, feeling a large shadow looming over her from behind, she turned around with a very displeased expression. It was Kisha, his face a mess of bumps and bruises.

“Oh my. Kisha, your face is really serious.”

“Miss, it hurts so much.”

“I can see that.”

“His Grace the Grand Duke even took the butler’s revolver. It’s dangerous.”

Oh, even a gun?

Daphne paused for a moment, rolling her eyes.

“Your face looks more dangerous. That was about the only thing worth looking at.”

Kisha lowered his head deeply and made a crying sound. Daphne nodded as though she roughly understood. She put her index finger to her lips, and the servants all shut their mouths.

Celestian, who had been humiliated at the banquet, had been very quiet for a few days, but it seemed he had chosen today to act out.

Inside the forcefully opened door, Daphne’s bedroom looked like a disgustingly abstract work of art.

“Wow.”

The color drained from the servants’ faces. The maids were now on the verge of tears, watching Daphne’s reaction.

“Miss, it’s dangerous.”

Even Misha, who usually couldn’t keep his mouth shut, stood with his jaw dropped and managed to utter just one word.

The table split in two and the sofa with broken legs could be excused. They were changed monthly anyway.

The black wool carpet imported from the West had been reduced to rags. Daphne almost danced like a pink-shoed lady when she carelessly stepped in.

‘I was going to replace this anyway.’

The aurora curtain, a gift from her mother, was torn into ten whip-like strips, and the large glass window was completely shattered from the circular hole in the bottom left to the top right like a spider web.

‘Everything can be replaced by buying new things.’

However, when her eyes fell on what used to be a large portrait occupying an entire wall, blood suddenly rushed to her face.

“Hello, Beaucater.”

The culprit who had turned Daphne’s bedroom into a mess was lying horizontally on the wide bed, viewing the world upside down. Fortunately, the bed he was lying on was the only thing intact.

“I told you to hang from the eastern clock tower, but here you are hanging from the ceiling. How does it feel? Do you feel a bit taller?”

His voice, seemingly lighter now, had a truly pleasant tone. It was even quite affectionate. Daphne met Celestian’s gaze as he lay upside down. Even in the dim light, his eyes were shining green.

“Cele, you’ve put bullets in me.”

“In you?”

“My portrait.”

“That’s your portrait?”

“Who else would it be?”

Celestian pressed his lips into a straight line, then soon smiled and answered.

“Isn’t it pretty? I like women who cry like that.”

Bullets were lodged in every orifice of the woman’s face in the painting.

Moreover, the trajectory of the bullet, which seemed to have been fired from directly below, tearing from the collarbone to above the eyes, made the woman in the painting appear to be wailing with black tears.