CHAPTER 52….
She’s Mine
“I didn’t expect you to act so recklessly, Arthur Cervantes.”
That was the first thing Illeon said upon visiting Arthur.
But Arthur didn’t even spare Illeon a glance. Instead, he was smiling brightly at the pansies blooming in a pot on a tall shelf.
A soft stream of water conjured in Arthur’s palm drenched the pansies thoroughly.
“Mmh? Why? Didn’t you want the throne?”
Arthur spoke while still not looking at Illeon.
“Wasn’t that why you sent me that letter and summoned me here? I took care of both of them nice and clean, no loose ends. So what exactly are you unhappy about~?”
He hummed a tune as he admired the silver pansies.
“I have no interest in the throne. If you want it, go ahead. I just love beautiful things more than anything in the world. Celia, Celia… Ahh! Celia!”
Just thinking about her made Arthur tremble with excitement.
“Celiaaaaah!”
He buried his face in his hands and screamed her name.
Illeon stared at Arthur like he was completely deranged.
He already knew Arthur was obsessed with beauty, but he didn’t expect him to lose his mind this much over Celia.
“But, did you know? That Celia you like so much… I heard she’s romantically involved with Dietrich.”
Arthur froze.
The grin he had while looking at the flowers vanished, and his face creaked toward Illeon with an unnatural, jerking motion.
“What did you say?”
“Didn’t you hear me? The one you’re so obsessed with? She already belongs to someone else. Dietrich.”
“…Who’s Dietrich?”
Illeon opened his mouth to answer—but then closed it again.
Arthur rarely showed his face at the imperial palace. Even when Dietrich was granted the dukedom, Arthur had locked himself away in his chambers and left everything to his butler.
Just how cut off from the world was he?
“You seriously don’t know who Dietrich is?”
“I don’t care about anything that isn’t beautiful.”
“Is it really not because he’s a man?”
Arthur brushed his platinum hair back smugly.
“There simply cannot be a man in this world more beautiful than me. Naturally, I wouldn’t be interested in other men.”
His snake-like yellow-gold eyes gleamed beneath his pale skin.
‘That narcissism is practically leaking out of his pores.’
Illeon cursed inwardly.
Judging from what he said, he clearly didn’t even know that Celia had entered the Emperor’s bedchamber.
If he had, he would’ve burst out of his hidey-hole and raced straight to the palace already.
“That’s why—Celia is mine. Not anyone else’s.”
Arthur’s eyes clouded over with a possessive madness.
The yellow in his eyes darkened with obsession and lunacy, becoming truly grotesque.
“I’ll preserve her in my private chamber… forever…”
He murmured eerily.
“Unlike Jeremy and Erpia, Dietrich won’t be easy to kill. That guy’s a Swordmaster.”
“…A Swordmaster?”
“Yeah. If your magic is at the pinnacle of human potential, then his swordsmanship is at its peak. Even you won’t be able to kill Dietrich so easily.”
Illeon shrugged and walked toward the door.
“Thanks to your little stunt, I now have to discuss this mess with the ministers. I’ll take my leave.”
Click.
The door closed.
Left alone, Arthur stared down at the silver pansy.
A flower as radiant as Celia’s hair.
“Celia…”
Arthur closed his eyes and conjured an image of her in his mind.
Those large, clear green eyes like a fresh forest. Her lips, slightly parted in surprise. Those fragile wrists that seemed like they’d break if touched. That soft, white skin.
And, most vividly…
—Arthur Cervantes?
The tender, rosy lips that had called his name.
“Celia, Celia, Celia, Celia…!”
Arthur kept repeating her name like a madman.
He had never seen anyone so beautiful in his life.
If he could, he would preserve her forever—alive and vibrant—in his private chamber.
The most beautiful being in the world. Just for himself.
“When I came to deliver his breakfast, he was already dead.”
At the knight’s report, Dietrich examined Jeremy’s corpse closely.
The body hung limp at the top of the tower, but there wasn’t a single visible wound.
“Poison?”
“No traces of poison, sir. Perhaps he ended his life out of despair…”
Dietrich opened Jeremy’s firmly closed mouth to check his tongue.
There were no signs of having bitten it.
“It wasn’t suicide. It was murder. And the Empress was killed by the same person, just moments apart.”
“Murder? But with the Duke of Calypso here, who would dare do such a thing?!”
Dietrich had a good idea who it was.
Someone who could kill this flawlessly and precisely—was no ordinary human.
“Someone who doesn’t need a weapon to kill. Someone with nothing to fear.”
“This is bad. All members of the royal family in the palace have been assassinated. There’s no one left.”
If the fall of Avalon hinged on the royal bloodline, it would’ve crumbled in Dietrich’s hands long ago.
Suppressing his thoughts, he gave a slight nod.
“…What should we do now?”
“Give the royals a grand funeral. But one day of mourning will suffice.”
“O-One day?”
The knight looked shocked—perhaps the period of mourning felt too short.
“It’s already been over a month since the throne became vacant. There’s nothing to gain from prolonging this.”
“I-I see. Then, what about the throne…”
“With the royal line wiped out, someone else will have to take the crown. Someone no one can object to.”
Celia sat on a black bench near the tower.
She had come with Dietrich, but since he couldn’t very well show her a corpse, he left her with Anderson and went up the tower with the knight instead.
Perhaps noticing her boredom, the normally quiet Anderson pulled something from his coat.
“I made these this morning. I heard you like sweets… Would you care for one?”
“Thank you.”
Celia sat and took a pink macaron.
Its sweetness spread gently in her mouth as it melted.
“…How is it?”
“Dewicious.”
Cheeks puffed up, she munched on it like a squirrel.
Anderson, who was exceptionally perceptive, began to understand how someone like Celia had captivated Dietrich, a man known for being cold to women.
There was something about her that made people feel at ease.
Something beyond her beauty—something that made people feel genuinely good.
Of course, those who only focused on her looks would never see it.
When she finished eating, Celia brushed the crumbs from her lips and smiled.
“That was really good. Thank you for the delicious treat.”
“Thank you!”
Anderson beamed with joy.
But then, someone hiding behind a pillar popped out.
A man in a black robe suddenly appeared in front of them.
“Celia!”
The one who called her name was none other than Arthur.
There hadn’t been the slightest sign of his presence—and yet he suddenly appeared.
Anderson immediately tensed and watched Arthur with wary eyes.
“…Who are you?”
Arthur ignored him completely. His eyes were glued to Celia.
“Celia! Say my name again, like last time, please?”
Celia had no idea why he was acting so familiar with her.
He seemed incredibly dangerous—he had killed two people without blinking an eye.
When Celia didn’t answer, Arthur began rubbing his hands nervously.
“Celia, if you like sweets, I can make them for you anytime.”
He muttered something unintelligible.
Then, with a pop, colorful macarons appeared in his hands.
“Ta-da!”
Pop! Pop! Pop!
One after another, macarons kept appearing from his empty hands. Celia stared at them, confused.
“…Magic?”
Arthur nodded enthusiastically, clearly pleased.
“Yep! I can create anything you want with magic!”
“…Who are you?”
Arthur’s joyful expression vanished.
Though his hood hid his eyes, the visible half of his face was far from pleased.
Sensing danger, Celia hurriedly grabbed his arm.
If she didn’t stop him now, she was sure Arthur would harm Anderson.
“Ah… Aah! Haaah!”
The moment she touched him, Arthur began to tremble and moan again.
The pile of macarons he had conjured spilled to the ground in a heap.
Celia let go of his wrist and turned to Anderson.
“Anderson, go get Dietrich. Now.”
“…What?”
“Hurry! I’ll take care of this.”
“You expect me to leave you alone with that lunatic?! Absolutely not!”
Celia couldn’t help but feel a little frustrated with Anderson, who was as straight-laced as Dietrich.
Arthur was clearly not in his right mind.
The way his expression darkened just from a short conversation with Anderson was more than enough proof.
If she were alone with Arthur, she could use her powers if needed. But with Anderson present, she was limited—making it much harder to deal with him.
Meanwhile, Arthur was now sniffing the wrist she had touched, inhaling deeply like he was savoring her scent.
And then—
“Who is that?”
A voice came at just the right moment.
It was Dietrich, having emerged from the tower with the knight.
“Dietrich.”
The moment Celia spoke, Arthur lunged at him—
So fast, she didn’t even have time to stop him.
