Chapter 13
Celestina stood before the tall, ornate mirror in her chamber as the final touches were made to her appearance. The golden light of the chandeliers reflected off the silk and diamonds adorning her gown, casting a halo of shimmering brilliance around her.
The dress was a masterpiece: a flowing creation of deep sapphire velvet that clung to her form before cascading into a sea of delicate embroidery at the hem, each thread glinting like starlight. The neckline dipped modestly, edged with pearls, while her shoulders gleamed bare, kissed by the faintest shimmer of powder. A diamond necklace adorned her collarbone, its centerpiece a teardrop gem that had once belonged to her late mother.
Her hair was swept into an elegant updo, soft curls framing her face, and her lips glistened with a hint of crimson. She looked every inch the daughter of a president, every bit the woman Kael Veridan had failed to cherish.
“Perfection,” whispered the royal dresser, stepping back and clasping her hands together. “You are the image of your mother, Lady Celestina. Truly, she would be so proud.”
Celestina smiled faintly at the mention of her mother, her heart swelling with equal parts sadness and pride. “Thank you,” she said softly, her voice steady despite the whirlwind of emotions coursing through her.
The doors to her chamber opened, and a steward bowed. “Lady Celestina, the ball has begun. The guests await your entrance.”
She took a deep breath, smoothing the fabric of her gown. As she descended the grand staircase, her heels clicking softly against the polished marble, a hush fell over the ballroom below.
Heads turned, conversations ceased, and an audible wave of whispers rippled through the crowd.
“She’s breathtaking,” murmured a woman in a silver gown, her voice tinged with awe.
“She looks just like her mother,” another guest whispered.
“More beautiful, perhaps,” said a nobleman, earning murmurs of agreement.
Celestina walked with quiet confidence, her chin held high, but her heart pounded in her chest. Her father, President Alvada, stood at the base of the staircase, his expression warm and proud.
“Celestina,” he said as she reached him, offering her his arm.
“Father,” she replied, linking her arm through his. Together, they stepped into the room, their presence commanding the attention of every guest.
As they made their way to the center of the ballroom, guests continued to admire her beauty.
“She carries herself like a queen,” someone remarked.
“It’s in her blood,” another added. “Her mother had the same grace, the same presence.”
Celestina smiled politely at the compliments, though her mind was far from the admiration surrounding her. She accepted a glass of champagne from a waiter and took a small sip, letting the cool bubbles calm her nerves.
Standing beside her father, she listened as he spoke to various dignitaries and nobles, nodding occasionally but keeping her own words to a minimum.
The grand doors to the ballroom slammed open, drawing every eye to the entrance. There, standing in stark contrast to the refined elegance of the guests, was Kael Veridan. His dark suit was impeccably tailored, but the storm in his eyes made him appear wild, untamed.
Gasps echoed through the room.
“Who let him in?” someone hissed.
“What is he doing here?”
Kael’s gaze locked onto Celestina instantly, and for a moment, the room seemed to disappear for him. She stood beside her father, her beauty so radiant it felt like a blow to his chest.
“Celestina!” he called, his voice cutting through the murmurs.
Celestina stiffened, her grip on her champagne flute tightening. Her father turned toward Kael, his expression darkening.
“Who is this man?” a noblewoman whispered.
“The one who mistreated her,” came the quiet reply.
Kael strode forward, ignoring the disapproving stares and murmured protests. A guard stepped in his path, but Kael waved him aside.
“I need to speak with her,” Kael said urgently. His voice was strained, his desperation palpable.
President Alvada raised a hand, signaling the guards to stand down—for the moment. “You have no business here, Veridan,” he said coldly.
Kael’s jaw clenched, but his eyes remained fixed on Celestina. “Please, I just need a moment. Celestina, listen to me.”
Celestina met his gaze, her expression a mixture of shock and anger. “You shouldn’t be here, Kael,” she said, her voice calm but laced with steel.
“Just let me explain,” he pleaded, stepping closer.
Her father moved between them, his imposing figure blocking Kael’s path. “You’ve done enough damage, Veridan. Leave before you embarrass yourself further.”
Kael’s fists clenched at his sides. “I didn’t come here to cause trouble. I came because I realized I made a mistake. A terrible mistake.”
Celestina’s lips tightened, her composure unyielding. “A mistake? You call years of cruelty and indifference a mistake?”
“I didn’t know—” Kael began, but she cut him off.
“You didn’t care,” she said sharply. “You didn’t care when I begged for your kindness. You didn’t care when I sacrificed everything for your family.” Her voice rose, the pain she had buried for so long spilling into the open. “And now, because you’ve learned who I truly am, you think you can fix it all with a few words?”
The room fell silent, the weight of her words hanging heavy in the air.
Kael’s face crumpled, but before he could respond, President Alvada raised his hand. “Enough. Guards, escort him out.”
“No! Wait!” Kael protested as two guards seized him by the arms. He struggled against their grip, his desperation growing. “Celestina, please! Give me a chance to make this right!”
Celestina turned her back on him, her voice steady but ice-cold. “Goodbye, Kael.”
As the guards dragged him toward the doors, Kael’s voice echoed through the ballroom. “Celestina! Please!”
The doors slammed shut behind him, and the murmur of the guests rose once more, though none dared approach her. Celestina took another sip of her champagne, her hand trembling slightly.
Her father placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. “He’s gone now,” he said gently.
