TPHRU 09

Chapter 09…

The Land of the Dead Beckons.

It was the first time Celine had ever seen Alexis in person, before her own debutante ball.
Until then, Felicia had always gone to the royal castle to meet Alexis herself, so there had been no occasion for the crown prince to visit the Dupla household.
Portraits of Crown Prince Alexis circulated widely among the nobility, and of course, Celine had seen them—but his true beauty and radiance far surpassed any painting.

“How beautiful he is… So that is my sister-in-law’s fiancé…”

As Celine stared intently at the couple standing close together, her eyes shone with a sharp light—as if they harbored something dark and dangerous.

Months passed, and Felicia, supported by Alexis, resumed her visits to the castle for her princess education.
She had already long mastered the manners and knowledge required of a royal consort, but because she was also well-versed in current national affairs and diplomacy, her “education” was, in truth, a way for the royal family to have her assist the current queen in her duties.

Celine, meanwhile, had begun to pester Felicia to take her along to the royal castle.
However, those visits were for official duties, not personal matters.

“I’m sorry, Celine. It’s not something I can decide on my own,”

Felicia said apologetically.
Celine gazed at her resentfully.

“I envy you, sister-in-law. You have everything anyone could want.”

Felicia tilted her head slightly in confusion.
Envy me? she thought. When I’ve lost my mother as a child, and now my brother as well—how could anyone envy that?

“I want it too…”

Celine murmured softly, her words too quiet for Felicia to hear.

“Celine,”

Yvette appeared, accompanied by a maid holding little Maxim in her arms.

“Mother!”

Celine ran up to her, as if trying to say something.

Though only a few months had passed since Bernard’s death, Yvette was already busily moving about—making arrangements at the royal court and searching for tutors—all for the sake of establishing Maxim as the heir to the Dupla marquisate.
Now that her eldest son Bernard was gone, it was only natural for the younger son, Maxim, to inherit the title.
But neither Felicia nor Christophe could bring themselves to think about such matters yet.

Yvette, however, seemed to have no intention of letting time stop.
Come to think of it, she had mentioned today that she would be ordering dresses for Celine’s upcoming debutante ball.

“It’s time for me to go to the castle,”

Felicia said, bidding farewell to the two before boarding her carriage.

“Yes, take care,”

Yvette replied with a fixed, almost pasted-on smile, while Celine didn’t even bother to hide the resentment in her eyes as she stared at Felicia.
Mother and daughter silently watched as the carriage departed toward the royal castle.