Chapter 15: Just An Act
—CELIA—
"I did not suddenly decide–"
"You did," he interrupted imdiately, scoffing as he looked away like my existence had personally inconvenienced him.
That did it.
I felt my patience snap in the quietest, most controlled way possible. It was not explosive. It was not dramatic. It was simply... done.
I stared at him.
This man...
This composed, intimidating, unnecessarily good-looking duke who spoke like every word carried legal weight...was being stubborn.
Childishly stubborn.
Over an engagent he did not even want.
’This joke of a man,’ I thought, pressing my lips together to keep my face neutral. ’Why are you like this?’
I inhaled slowly, forcing my shoulders to relax.
Then I smiled to calm myself down.
"Very well," I said, softening my voice just enough to sound reasonable. "If that is how it appeared, then perhaps I was... abrupt."
He glanced back at , clearly not expecting agreent.
But then, I clasped my hands in front of , lowering my gaze slightly like I had seen noble ladies do in monts of emotional vulnerability.
It felt ridiculous. It probably looked convincing.
"I suppose it is difficult to explain sothing that has been building for quite so ti," I continued.
That sounded profound.
I almost nodded at myself.
"...Building?" he repeated, his tone edged with suspicion.
"Yes," I said, lifting my gaze just enough to et his. "I simply chose not to speak of it until now."
Which was technically true, if "now" ant the last five minutes.
I tilted my head slightly, as if considering sothing delicate.
"Have you ever waited for sothing," I asked, "only to realize that it was never going to happen?"
He flinched at my words, which made smirk internally.
’That was good,’ I thought. ’That was very good.’
Outwardly, I maintained composure.
He frowned slightly, clearly caught off guard. "What are you implying?"
I took a breath.
And then, I committed.
"I had hoped," I said carefully, "that in ti... you might co to see differently."
’...what are you doing,’ I thought. ’Who gave you permission to sound like a tragic heroine?’
But it was too late to stop.
So I kept going.
"I understood from the beginning that this engagent was not sothing you desired," I continued, lowering my voice slightly. "But I believed that perhaps, with ti, things could change."
His expression shifted almost imdiately.
"I thought," I added, because apparently I had no self-preservation left, "that if I tried hard enough... you might eventually co to care."
’That might have been too much,’ I thought.
But outwardly, I simply exhaled softly, like a woman coming to terms with sothing inevitable.
"I realize now that I was mistaken," I said, allowing a small, controlled smile. "And that is not your fault."
"I cannot continue holding onto sothing that does not exist," I added. "So I chose to let go."
There.
What a beautiful, completely fabricated story.
I almost stood up and applauded internally.
I kept my expression calm, my posture steady, and my gaze composed.
Because if I broke now, everything would collapse.
He stared at longer than expected.
And that was concerning.
Because this was not the reaction I had planned for.
He was not dismissing .
He was not scoffing.
He was not rejecting the logic.
He was thinking.
’Oh no,’ I thought imdiately. ’Do not think. Thinking leads to questions. Questions lead to problems. Please just accept and move on.’
I held his gaze anyway.
Because retreating now would be suspicious.
"I wish for you to find happiness elsewhere," I added gently, because apparently I was fully committed to this emotional narrative now. "Truly."
I almost impressed myself again.
But then, his jaw tightened.
There it was.
A reaction.
But not the one I expected.
It was not relief.
It was not agreent.
It was irritation.
I blinked.
’...Why does he look more upset?’ I thought, genuinely confused. ’That was a perfect exit. That was graceful. That was generous. Why are you angry?’
He exhaled slowly, his gaze still fixed on .
"...So that is your reasoning," he said.
"Yes," I replied imdiately, almost too quickly that I softened it.
"It is."
Please accept it.
Please.
He was silent again.
Then, "...You are letting go," he repeated.
I nodded.
"Yes."
That was the entire objective.
He turned his head slightly, as if considering sothing.
"...How inconvenient," he muttered.
I froze.
Inconvenient?
Inconvenient?!
’I just gave you a full emotional resolution!’ I thought, deeply offended. ’What part of that was inconvenient?’
"If that is how you interpret it," I said calmly.
He let out a short breath.
"You expect to believe," he said, "that you have simply given up after all this ti?"
Before I could respond, he continued, his brows furrowing as if the more he thought about it, the less acceptable it beca.
"Did you not say you have fallen in love with soone else?" he added, his tone tightening. "Aria Valen, I refuse to accept that you have forced into this engagent and then cancel it like a re eting whenever you want."
I opened my mouth to reply, but before I could even form a sentence, he suddenly stepped forward and grabbed my arm.
The movent was so abrupt that it pulled a gasp out of before I could stop it.
My back hit the wall behind , not harshly, but enough to trap in place.
For a mont, I just stared at him.
He was so close.
Close enough that I could clearly see the tension in his jaw, the faint crease between his brows, the way his composure had slipped just enough to reveal sothing far less controlled underneath.
"Do you no longer find attractive?" he asked.
I blinked in confusion.
"...What?"
Of all the questions I expected, that was not one of them.
’What the hell is wrong with his head?’ I thought, genuinely alard now.
I took a breath and tried to pull my arm back, but his grip did not loosen. It was not painful, but it was firm enough to make it clear that I was not leaving until he decided I could.
This was bad.
Very bad.
’I should not have co into this corridor,’ I thought. ’I should have stayed in my room. I should have locked the door. I should have pretended to be sick. I should have faked my death. Why did I co out today?!’
"Answer ," he demanded.
This was not how it was supposed to go.
He was supposed to accept my emotional closure, nod once like a reasonable nobleman, and let leave gracefully into my peaceful, non-execution future.
’I have no choice but to act,’ I told myself firmly. ’If not, he really would not let go.’
I forced my shoulders to tense slightly, letting my breath hitch just enough to sound unsteady.
Then I looked up at him.
"Duke Sebastian," I said, my voice trembling just the right amount, "refrain yourself from hurting ."
His expression flickered.
"I know you hate ," I added, letting my voice break at the edges. "But I beg you... please do not hurt . I am already willing to let you go as you wished!" I cried out, louder this ti that my voice echoed along the corridor.
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