Chapter 12.
Greta was crying.
The woman who had always been impeccable—sharp, composed, unshakable—was now completely disheveled. With reddened, swollen eyes, she looked up at Percy.
“Collins… I’m sorry. For letting you see me like this.”
It felt like witnessing the hidden vulnerability of a flawless superior. Percy couldn’t bring himself to say anything.
Greta showed no sign of calming down.
In a voice laced with sobs, she spoke.
“I’m not a hero. I never was.”
It was as if she were coughing up a lump that had been choking her for years.
That dark, festering mass—buried deep where no one could ever see.
“I’m not a hero! I’m not!”
Her scream overlapped with the sudden burst of radio static in Percy’s head.
He recognized the voice. The same frantic transmissions from that aerial battle.
“Two enemy aircraft approaching at your two o’clock.”
“Missile incoming—bank hard!”
“Right engine’s on fire!”
“V-1, do you read?”
“Respond, V-1!”
“Maintain altitude! At this rate you’re going down!”
“Maintain altitude!”
“Maintain altitude!”
Percy!
His head jerked up. He woke with a start, gasping. The first thing he felt was the plush softness of the sofa beneath him and the sunlight pouring in through the window.
Sensing movement, he turned his head.
A blonde woman with perfectly styled hair sat nearby, looking at him with concern.
“Are you all right?”
So he wasn’t alone. Percy groaned softly and pushed himself upright. The book that had been resting on his face lay forgotten on the floor.
“Sorry,” she said. “I wanted to wake you, but… I wasn’t sure if I should.”
“…Christina. What are you doing here?”
“Don’t you remember? We’re going together.”
“Going where?”
She puffed her cheeks dramatically. “Oh, come on. You really don’t remember? The cruise. We’re leaving in two hours.”
Taking advantage of his dazed state, Christina slid closer and sat beside him, smiling playfully.
“Did you have a bad dream?”
“It’s none of your business.”
“It’s fine. You can tell me everything. With me, you don’t have to hold back.”
“You wouldn’t understand.”
“But I care about you more than anyone.”
Instead of answering, Percy stood and walked to the window. He threw it open, letting the wind rush into the room.
He closed his eyes, breathing in the breeze blown in from the distant city.
Standing like this made him feel calmer.
It would have been perfect if he were alone.
“So, we’ve got some time before we leave. What should we do?”
“Who let you in here?”
“I can get in anywhere I want.”
“Oh, because you’re ‘Miss Hughes,’ is that it?”
“Percy, don’t be that way. I just came to see you—is that really such a crime?”
“…Why do you keep crossing lines?”
“Because I like you.”
Percy rubbed his eyes. Christina wasn’t the type to give up easily.
“I like you, Percy,” she repeated, as if she wanted to hammer the words into him.
“Christina. It’s time to stop.”
“I don’t think so.”
“I’m married. I have a wife.”
“That woman left you.”
He turned toward her, sunlight behind him, his expression unreadable in the backlight. Only his golden eyes were visible—sharp and warning.
“I still love my wife.”
He spoke slowly, clearly, as if he wanted the words engraved in stone.
Christina’s reply caught in her throat. Hearing him declare love for another woman carved a deep scratch across her heart.
But she refused to give up.
She had loved Percy for a very long time.
She loved everything about him. No one could possibly love him more than she did.
And yet—
Fate was cruel.
She remembered how she felt the moment another woman appeared at Percy’s side and took the spot that should have been hers.
When newspapers printed photos of Percy kissing that woman.
When the whole empire learned her name—not Christina’s.
When they married. When they moved into their new home.
Christina had been furious—hurt impossible to describe—but she never once considered giving up.
She was meant to be Percy’s wife.
And what about that woman?
Unladylike. Arrogant. Entitled. A woman who let praise and fame go to her head and strutted through the world as if she were its center.
Of course she ran away. She had no idea what being Percy’s wife meant.
When Christina heard that Greta had disappeared, she felt relieved—
—and furious.
Greta had stolen the man Christina loved more than anything… only to discard him like trash.
Christina could never understand.
She didn’t want to understand.
She wanted to ask Percy herself:
Tell me. How did she fool you?
Why do you look for a woman who abandoned you,
instead of me?
“Anyway,” Christina said at last, lifting her chin, her smile soft and sweet.
“That woman isn’t here anymore. She ran away. Maybe being your wife was too much for her.”
Percy’s gaze sharpened. His golden eyes—sunlike and piercing—studied her.
There was no affection there. But Christina was thrilled just to have his attention.
“She was never suited to you. Right?”
“Stop.”
“Why do you cling to that pain, Percy? I don’t know what happened back then, but it’s time to let go. Look around you. There are wonderful things waiting for you in the present.”
“…You’re right. I shouldn’t live in the past.”
Christina’s heart leapt.
Finally… he understands!
“Maybe I should give up on this obsession with my wife. Maybe I should focus on living in the present.”
“That’s exactly what I—!”
“But Christina,” he cut in. “You won’t be in that present.”
His voice was calm. And somehow, that made it even more cruel.
Christina felt like she’d been slapped.
“I’m saying this to spare you more pain,” Percy continued. “It’s the truth.”
“…Do you really hate me that much?”
“I don’t hate you. I just don’t love you.”
“No.”
Christina stepped forward with an unnervingly bright smile, lifting his hand to her cheek. Compared to him, she was so small she had to tilt her face up to meet his eyes.
She clasped his hand tightly, preventing him from pulling away.
“You will love me. Maybe you don’t know it yet, but someday you will. I guarantee it.”
Silence.
“Even if neither you nor Lady Heskett see it right now, one day you’ll consider it a blessing to have me as your wife. I’ll make sure of it.”
She pressed his calloused hand against her cheek.
She was ready to love every part of him.
Because it was Percy Collins’s hand.
“I never doubted it—not even once. Eventually, you’ll want me.”
“Christina.”
She held his hand tighter, her voice soft and dangerous.
“Don’t worry, Percy. I’ll save you from that pretentious woman.”
“Jesus Christ.”
Kitty muttered as she stepped out of the car.
Jerome jumped in shock at her language.
“Miss Summers!”
“Who the hell spits gum on the ground?”
She lifted her shoe to check the sole—sticky gum clung to it in an ugly smear.
“Just great.”
“You shouldn’t talk like that outside!”
“People need to remember I’m human.”
“Everyone knows you’re human! But still—”
“Jerome, spare shoes?”
“One moment!”
He hurried back and returned with a pair of heels covered in crystals, sparkling brilliantly in the sun.
Kitty swapped shoes and stepped onto the pier.
Before her, a massive cruise ship dominated the harbor, majestic and gleaming. The most luxurious vessel in the empire.
And not just anyone was allowed aboard.
Only those deemed worthy would board soon.
Her name was on that list.
She never imagined she’d one day perform on a ship like this. She’d been invited to many events since becoming known as a singer, but a cruise performance was beyond anything she’d dreamed of.
Even as an invited performer—she was still a passenger of the Della Cruz.
It felt strange—and exhilarating.
Like she was finally setting off on the journey she had always wanted.
Everything is going right.
She began walking toward the ship.
Seagulls cried overhead. The sky was clear. Nothing—absolutely nothing—could possibly go wrong.
