Deviating from the original plot

Chapter twenty-three

Celeste's tears streamed down her cheeks. "I cared about you. I still do. We're supposed to get married; of course I'd be jealous."

Cassius scoffed. "Spare me, Celeste. Your dramatic theatrics don't work. We've been over this. Do better and stop being so annoying."

She stood frozen, stunned by his words. Her voice dropped to a whisper. "But... it's the truth."

He didn't respond. With a final, dismissive glance, Cassius turned and walked out—leaving the room cold and quiet in his absence.

Celeste remained rooted to the spot, trembling. Then, she grabbed the nearest vase and hurled it at the wall. It shattered instantly, roses and water spilling across the floor in a messy splash.

She dropped to her knees, her sobs breaking the silence.

"...I really do care."

After what felt like hours of crying, Celeste finally rose to her feet, her movements slow and unsteady. She left the room in silence, the servants quietly stepping aside as she passed, careful not to meet her eyes.

When she entered her chambers, her gaze fell on the vanity—where the handkerchief Victoria had given her lay neatly folded.

She walked over and picked it up gently, her fingers brushing the soft fabric. It was a simple thing, yet it carried the warmth of the only person who hadn't looked at her with judgement, fear, or disdain.

The only one who had seen her... differently.

Celeste exhaled slowly, then called for her maid. The poor girl approached hesitantly, her steps cautious, as though bracing for a scolding.

"Prepare a suitable outfit," Celeste said, her tone calm and composed. "I'm going out."

The maid blinked in surprise, then nodded quickly and hurried to fulfil the request.

Left alone, Celeste glanced once more at the handkerchief in her hand, her voice barely a whisper. "I still don't believe it's possible..."

✦ ✦

And that was how Lady Celeste found herself sitting in the drawing room of the Valenford estate.

Upstairs, Victoria had just finished reviewing notes from her lesson with Damien when Anne entered her room with a small curtsy.

"My lady... You have another visitor."

Victoria raised an eyebrow. "Another?"

She descended the stairs and entered the drawing room—only to pause at the sight before her.

Seated gracefully on the settee was Lady Celeste, dressed in a modest yet elegant outfit. A black fascinator rested atop her head, its delicate netting partially veiling her face.

Celeste had chosen it deliberately—to hide the lingering evidence of her earlier tears. Victoria had already seen her vulnerability once; she didn't intend to let it happen again.

Victoria approached slowly, her expression neutral but curious. "Lady Celeste," she greeted softly, unsure what tone to use. "This is... unexpected."

Celeste didn't look up immediately. "I'm aware."

"Well," Victoria replied gently, "I'd prefer it if you sent a letter ahead of time next time—just so I'm not caught off guard."

Celeste tensed immediately, her voice defensive. "So you could come up with a convenient excuse to avoid me?"

Victoria blinked. "What? No—so I could prepare properly. If I'd known you were coming, I would've arranged for some refreshments at least." She glanced at a nearby maid and gave her a small nod.