Deviating from the original plot

Chapter eighty

The two sat across from each other in Celeste's room, porcelain cups resting untouched between them. Celeste folded her arms; her gaze fixed on him.

"Well?" she pressed, her tone sharp. "You dragged me here. Speak."

Rhyse drew in a slow breath. "I never meant for any of this. Like I said—I didn't even know Father had another family. My mother lives in the countryside, far from the capital. It's a quiet, remote place. All I knew was that Father visited from time to time, and whenever he was away, Mother told me it was for business. She said he was a wealthy man, so I assumed he was a merchant or something of the sort. That was all I knew... until my birthday a few months ago."

Celeste's eyes narrowed, but she stayed silent, watching him.

"That's when they told me the truth," Rhyse continued, his voice weighted with shame. "That Father was a Duke. I was furious at first—furious because while he had status and riches, we still scraped by. My mother still had to work and I thought... why? Why live so small when he had so much? But then she told me, "He already had a family here, in the capital. That's why"

"So she already knew!" Celeste snapped.

"She did," he admitted quickly, guilt flickering across his face. "At first, I hated it. My mother told me if I came with him, I could secure a future for us both—that she wouldn't have to struggle anymore. And I thought she was right... But then I saw what it meant for you. For the Duchess. The pain it caused. And I... I couldn't ignore it anymore."

"So you expect me to feel pity for you—and for your ambitious harlot of a mother?" Celeste spoke coldly, and Rhyse flinched.

"Don't call her that," he said quickly, his voice taut with hurt. "I know what she did was wrong, but it wasn't out of malice. She only wanted to survive." He let out a weary sigh and lowered his gaze. "Look... I don't want to make an enemy of you, Lady Celeste."

Celeste crossed her arms, studying him. "An enemy? You flatter yourself if you think you're significant enough to be one. Fact is fact; you and your mother ruined this household."

Rhyse winced but pressed on, his tone soft but earnest. "I just want us to be... siblings. Or at least not strangers walking across the same hallways. I know we can't undo what's been done, but maybe we can try."

Her lips curved into a cold, humourless smile. "That's convenient to say. You're the intruder who turned our lives upside down. Give me one reason I should even hear you out."

Rhyse's grip on the teacup faltered before he carefully set it aside. "Because... I'm not Father. I don't want to become him or repeat his mistakes. I have no desire to hurt anyone—I only want the chance to show you I can be different, even despite everything."

Celeste's gaze sharpened, a flicker of something unreadable in her expression. "Think what you will," she said. "But for now, stay out of my way. If you truly want to prove yourself, then start by not being a burden."

Rhyse inclined his head, though the faint shadow of disappointment lingered in his eyes. "I understand."

"Good," Celeste said curtly.

Rhyse rose without another word and quietly left the room.

When the door closed, Clara spoke softly, "Do you truly believe him, my lady?"

Celeste frowned, letting out a sharp sigh. "I couldn't care less about him. Honestly, I'm already in a foul mood. I don't think I have the energy to go anywhere else today."

✦ ✦

Evelyn spotted Freya waiting outside the workshop, sleeves rolled up, determination in her stance.