Why? (1)

Celine tied Lucian's handkerchief around her neck like a scarf. The image of the gruesome scene flashed through her mind, his screams still ringing in her ears, tears filling his eyes, as his body convulsed, begging her for mercy while crying out: Why?

Yes. Why?

Celine's lips curled down. If she ever died, she wanted her last breath to be taken by him, and no one else. If anything was to be taken from her, it should have been by him.

That's what she thought when the Rocheforts' were at their lowest point, when news of her father's death reached her ears, when only a young girl was left to carry the family's legacy.

Celine blinked, remembering how her father showed up in front of her a month after the engagement announcement with the Crown Prince, saving her from a terrible fate. He was not dead, but someone wanted him dead. His bloodied hands had cupped her face, rubbing away her tears, staining her skin with the enemy's blood, his lips forming an apologetic smile.

"How can a Rochefort die so easily?" he had said, "I'm proud of you, my little dove. One day, I'm sure, you will be the one who'll fly the highest. You have nothing to fear, and everything to gain."

That's right. She still had so much to gain, but also so much to lose.Celine walked past the guards, and they fell into place behind her, following closely. She was used to people hating on her, but why was she so bothered by Lucian's words, that they echoed in her ears, and refused to fade away?

'He is going to stab me in the back when I least expect it.'

'No normal person would just forgive and forget, would they?'

'I wouldn't have, and I doubt anyone else would either.'

Lucian's face flashed in her mind again and she tried to shake him off with new designs of sapphire jewelries, the whole line already taking shape in her head, a matching pair of earrings and necklace, maybe a bracelet, and a tiara for the finishing touch. Only for the image of his bright, golden eyes and the blinding smile to return.

"Ugh," Celine groaned, feeling her temples throb, 'He hates you. Instead of moping over him, start taking measures to prevent him from plotting against you, will you?'

And yet, for some reason, her mind kept drifting to the days, when he would sneak inside her room at night to study together.

He always came prepared with a small vial of essence or perfume, gently dabbing some onto her wrist to calm her nerves, and make the studying session much more enjoyable.

She would have a pot of tea ready, a plate of snacks for his hunger, and sometimes a new pair of gloves or socks. As winter neared, she'd have a hat and scarf waiting for him.

They were using each other for their benefits, and they both knew that, and yet, those memories seemed to have more color, more warmth, than the rest.

She found out that she understood the concept she learned much faster if she tried to teach it to someone else instead of just memorizing it the usual way, and Lucian happened to be the best option.

She didn't have the nerves and patience to put up with another person, especially when their enthusiasm for studying was as low as the number of coins in their pockets.

Lucian was the opposite. His energy and excitement were boundless, and his optimism was a cure-all for her gloominess and irritability.

It was fun.

It was...

Celine's mood dropped further, her headache intensifying, the music and conversations around her blurring together into a single buzzing noise. Yet, instead of rushing back home, she lingered.

With the guards trailing her, Celine visited the garden, sitting on the bench. Placing the book on the table, she rested her chin in her palm and closed her eyes, listening to the crickets, the sound of a violin somewhere nearby, and the soft whispers of the wind.

She was tired, the events of the evening were wearing her out and her feet were killing her.

╔═══ Author's note ════╗

To understand Lucian's obsession with Celine and his struggle to move on from her, we should get to know her a bit better, don't you think so? 🤔

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