So I Was the Persecuted Grand Duchess Destined to Die? Chapter 88

Chapter 88

“…I suppose that makes sense.”

After a brief silence, Xavier Celeste muttered thoughtfully, as if calculating something.

“From now on, we’ll attend the opera regularly. I’ll have them secure a private box subscription.”

That far?!

How much does he even like opera? And he hid it all this time?

Well… considering Diana Celeste, it seemed this household was quite skilled at keeping hobbies under wraps.

“Alright then…”

Does this mean I’ll have to accompany him every single time?

While I was still processing that, the carriage came to a halt.

“Your Grace, we have arrived at the Opera House.”

“Let’s get down.”

The door opened, and this time Xavier properly extended his hand to escort me.

“Wow!”

The opera house, built entirely of gleaming white marble, was breathtaking.

A massive poster hung at the entrance, displaying a beautiful woman’s face alongside the bold title:

<The Marquis’s Wife’s Thrilling Temptation>

That title never failed to shock me.

Seeing it printed so dramatically in enormous letters made it even more intense.

I’m overwhelmed…

If only there were smartphones in this world—I’d have taken pictures.

My heart floated higher and higher.

“Your Grace, Grand Duke Celeste! And Your Grace, Grand Duchess! Welcome!”

A middle-aged man in a perfectly tailored tailcoat hurried over from afar, bowing repeatedly.

“I am Peter, the director of this opera house. It is the greatest honor to receive such distinguished guests!”

Every time he bounced, the tails of his coat flapped like a swallow’s tail.

He looks like an emperor penguin…

Even his compact facial features resembled one.

He kept wiping sweat from his brow.

“Yes. A pleasure.”

Xavier responded coolly.

“Oh my! What an auspicious day! So many distinguished guests all at once—”

“Is there someone else important here besides me?”

Xavier asked plainly.

Peter nearly jumped out of his shoes.

“N-no! I misspoke! In any case, please allow me to escort you personally!”

Xavier had only asked out of curiosity, but poor Peter looked ready to faint.

I bit my lip to keep from laughing.

This was turning into a sitcom.

He probably wouldn’t even remember the director’s name in five minutes.

“Let’s go.”

“Yes.”

I hurried forward, heart pounding with anticipation.

Surely my excitement was due to the opera.

Surely.

Meanwhile—

In a quiet corner of the opera house lobby—

“What do you mean the Grand Duke of Celeste is here?!”

“Well… this is an opera house… perhaps he came to watch the opera?”

“Why today of all days?!”

“Your High— I mean— please calm down—”

“I told you not to call me that outside!”

A man cloaked in black hissed angrily.

Unfortunately, that only drew more attention.

His pale, uncalloused hands hastily pulled down his hood.

The luxurious silk robe—though entirely black—gleamed conspicuously.

The man was none other than Felix Rembrandt, the Second Prince of the Empire.

“Damn it. Even when I come to enjoy my one hobby, I have to run into that blasted Grand Duke.”

Felix was, in truth, an ardent opera enthusiast.

But his mother, Empress Isabella Rembrandt, disapproved, preferring he devote himself to swordsmanship and imperial studies.

So he came secretly, whenever he could, to unwind.

And then—

He had run into Peter in the lobby.

He’d managed to silence the matter through his aide, but Peter’s pale face had betrayed everything.

And then the worst possible person appeared.

Of all people…

Xavier Celeste.

A name that made Felix grind his teeth just as much as his half-brother, Crown Prince Callian Rembrandt.

There had once been efforts to win Xavier to the Empress’s faction.

Back then, a younger Felix had been terrified of the cold Grand Duke.

Things had ended badly.

And now—

The Grand Duke had arrived with his wife.

Hah. Acting all affectionate in front of his wife.

Felix vividly remembered Xavier’s glacial stare.

Unmoved. Unshaken. Looking down at him like an insignificant insect.

And now the entire Empire knew that same man doted on his wife.

Worse—

Felix had personal resentment toward that very wife.

“The one acting insane is you, wouldn’t you say? You don’t even possess the slightest bit of manners toward a lady!”

The audacity.

The girl who had publicly rebuked him at the masquerade ball.

It hadn’t taken long to discover she was Renée Celeste.

“Some epic romance, indeed.”

Muttering to himself, Felix reached the VVIP box corridor.

He had purchased a seasonal VVIP box pass under his aide’s name—so expensive that even high-ranking nobles struggled to obtain one.

It was practically his private sanctuary.

Until—

“Wait, they sell food here too? Do they have popcorn?”

“They have nachos.”

“Wow! Opera is amazing!”

Felix froze mid-step.

Those voices.

He pressed himself flat against the wall and peeked around the corner.

“Ugh.”

There stood Xavier, smiling faintly as his wife bounced excitedly while clutching her ticket.

They even bought box seats?!

A dark cloud loomed over his beloved hobby.

“Your Highness— I mean— why are we hiding? We’ve done nothing wrong…”

“Shut up! That man is an accident waiting to happen. Do you want to collide with disaster?”

“Y-yes, sir…”

Moments later, the door to the box directly beside his closed.

Only then did Felix tiptoe into his own.

Thank heavens these are private rooms.

If this had been open seating, it would have been a catastrophe.

Leaving wasn’t an option.

Even if he had a season pass and could come another day—each performance was different.

The actors’ condition. Their improvisations. The air. The temperature. The humidity.

Every element blended into a unique, unrepeatable experience.

Felix was a top-tier opera otaku.

Abandoning his favorite work was unthinkable.

He crossed his legs on the plush sofa, thinking.

Then—

“…Ah.”

His eyes gleamed.

“If I don’t want to leave… I can just make them leave.”

Perhaps this was the perfect opportunity to settle an old grudge.

“Hohoho.”

Like a villain from the very opera being staged, Felix clasped his hands beneath his chin and smiled wickedly.