Celebrity Lady - Chapter 145

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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Celebrity Lady
Chapter 145
* * *
When the severed head of the Crown Prince rolled across the floor of the Imperial Palace, the palace erupted into chaos.
No one moved to subdue the Second Prince—they hesitated, frozen in place.
There was no way to know whose neck that blade in his maddened hand would claim next.
Yet Nathan did not flee, nor did he seek further blood. He simply stood there, laughing.
He gazed with rapture into Lark’s eyes as the light drained from them, then hurled the sword he held far away from himself.
As if.
As if killing only you would be enough.
As if that alone was all that mattered.
“Ah… ahh….”
The Emperor, rushing in headlong, collapsed in disbelief at what his eyes beheld.
A finale steeped in tragedy.
* * *
[Imperial Calendar 1521, January 13th.
The day Crown Prince Lark van Rashmah Deccard passed away.
His killer was his half-brother and Second Prince, Nathan van Rashmah Deccard.
It is recorded that the struggle for succession within the Imperial House—escalated to its extreme—became the catalyst for this event.
This is….]
This is a corner of the history books of the Deccard Empire that would be written in the future.
Vista, a Spirit who gazed upon that tragic record with closed eyes, suddenly turned at a presence approaching from behind.
“Randian?”
Unlike their previous meeting, Randian’s aura had distinctly changed.
He had returned having lost his Contractor.
“Are you all right?”
“…….”
The heavy presence that settled beside him offered no reply.
Though Vista could not see, he felt every nuance of Randian’s turbulent emotions clearly.
“You’re not all right, then.”
“Well. What’s not to be all right about? I knew this would happen.”
“You didn’t expect it to come so quickly though. You couldn’t even say a proper farewell.”
Randian collapsed backward, cradling his head in both arms.
“I’ve never had a contract severed from me like this before.”
“Ah, yes.”
Since beginning to protect humans, several Contractors had passed through Randian’s watch, but their endings were always gentle.
He had only ever witnessed Contractors who lived full lives, growing old and closing their eyes in peace.
“This one’s fate was truly cruel.”
In the end—Lark’s face, his eyes dimming in an instant Randian could not sense coming.
Recalling that tragic end, Randian bit his lip.
“I know this was Lark’s second life. In a previous one as well, he died young in much the same way. Of course, I have no memory of it, but….”
“Yes, that’s right. The King turned back thirty years of time.”
Vista responded as if he knew everything, and Randian asked:
“Did you perhaps know that we had undergone Regression?”
“You found out because of the King’s Contractor, didn’t you?”
“That’s right.”
When Rubetria approached Lark, claiming to be Vista’s Contractor—one who sees the future.
Randian had known she was the King’s Contractor, and so he could dimly infer it:
That every future Rubetria revealed had actually come to pass.
“Exactly. Unlike you, I knew without anyone telling me. Because I am a Spirit who masters time. Spirits who command time can instinctively sense the flow of time that defies providence.”
“…….”
“It’s like cutting one thread and splicing a different one into the gap—there’s a discontinuity in the temporal flow. The thirty years the King turned back felt exactly like that.”
“I see.”
“Are you perhaps blaming yourself?”
Vista asked gently.
“It’s true I feel powerless. Twice now, in a way like this…. In truth, when you told me in advance about my Contractor’s death, I considered whether there was anything I could do, but….”
“Don’t. It’s not your fault. Why do you think the word ‘Fate’ exists?”
Vista reached out and gently stroked Randian’s head in comfort.
“I see countless branches of the future. Yet in all those myriad branches, every human meets nearly identical ends.”
“…….”
“Your Contractor is no exception. His Future Branches are beyond counting, but his ending is almost always the same. He dies young.”
“Cursed to die no matter what. Truly, a lamentable fate.”
Randian muttered this offhandedly, then fell silent for a long while before asking hesitantly:
“…Is there really not a single one?”
“A single what?”
“A Future Branch where that fool grows old and dies peacefully—does such a path not exist at all?”
“Well. Perhaps it did exist.”
Vista murmured, resting his chin thoughtfully.
“It seems there was one. But it’s now a vanished Future Branch, no longer visible since your Contractor has died….”
Vista recalled that one life path among the constantly shifting futures—the most beautiful one.
“I remember him weeping like a child.”
“Him? How unlike him.”
Lark had once gone without sleep or food for about twelve hours, just pacing back and forth restlessly, and that image had left a deep impression on Vista’s memory.
Vista continued, reaching back into his recollection:
“If he had lived… October 24th, 1529. The day the next Crown Prince of the Deccard Empire would have been born.”
“……?”
Randian, mulling over Vista’s words in a daze, suddenly burst out laughing.
“Ha ha ha…! Wait, so you’re saying he’d weep tears of joy because his child was born?”
“Is that something to mock? The birth of life is so profoundly moving. And his own bloodline at that.”
“Ah, this is killing me.”
Randian covered his face and chuckled for a long while, then his expression sobered and he murmured:
“I’m curious. I wish I could have seen what that bastard’s child would have looked like.”
“Wow, Randian, you’ve become quite human.”
A breeze suddenly swept past Vista’s side as he offered comfort.
In that instant, he stopped.
For one moment.
All the countless Future Branches flickering in his mind had suddenly shifted.
‘Ah, so after all.’
Vista smiled quietly.
It was not entirely unforeseen.
He had suspected it would not end like this.
The altered future.
Now, in none of the Future Branches could he see a future where Lark ‘did not exist’—that outcome had vanished from his sight.
The sudden emergence of such a future meant….
‘The King’s Contractor must have realized it.’
* * *
“Again… I couldn’t hear.”
For the fifth time, he was repeating the same words.
Victor bit his lip as he watched Rubetria standing in a daze, saying nothing, not collapsing, simply asking him to “say it again”—and repeating this request for the sixth time now.
“So the Second Prince—”
“Stop.”
Biego cut off Victor, who was about to launch into the same explanation for the sixth time.
“Is Father…”
“Still at the palace. The nobility have all been summoned on emergency notice.”
“To decide the Second Prince’s punishment, I imagine.”
“What’s there to decide? He’s already been locked in the Tower of Silence, and he’ll be executed this evening.”
“I see. Then I needn’t go.”
Biego glanced back at Rubetria and added:
“It seems someone should be with her.”
“Ah, brother… I need to go. Please look after Ruby for me.”
Victor, pressing his lips together, glanced once at the vacant-eyed Rubetria, then fled the mansion like a coward.
“Oh, big brother! Wait a moment.”
“Rubetria.”
Biego caught hold of Rubetria.
“Oh, older brother. I’m sorry, my ears just aren’t working properly. Just once more. Let me ask Victor’s brother just one more time….”
“Stop. No matter how many times you ask, the answer won’t change.”
Though it pained him to speak so harshly, Biego had no choice.
“How could….”
“…….”
“We were supposed to meet today? Today, today. We had plans to meet in a little while, didn’t we….”
Biego could not bear to look at her pitiful expression any longer and turned away.
“Why so suddenly….”
“Rubetria!”
Rubetria tore her hand from Biego’s grip as if in a frenzy and bolted up the stairs.
Back in her room with the door locked, she clutched her chest and breathed in ragged, gasping heaves.
“Wishit.”
And speaking that familiar name softly:
“…….”
As if he had been waiting.
Wishit appeared.
The Spirit King, with his brilliant golden hair in his true form, was still strange to her, yet to Rubetria now he felt like nothing less than salvation itself.
“Ha… ph….”
The moment she saw him, she nearly broke down in tears, but Rubetria held them back.
Studying her face, Wishit remained silent, his expression full of sorrow.
“Rubetria!”
As Rubetria swayed and nearly collapsed, Wishit caught her just in time.
“Wishit….”
Rubetria’s pale, trembling hand gripped the fabric of Wishit’s garment so tightly her fingers shook.
“What did I… what did I do wrong? Like a fool….”
“Calm yourself.”
Cradled in his embrace, Rubetria barely managed to whisper through gasps that threatened to overwhelm her:
“Wish… it.”
“I’m listening. Tell me.”
Rubetria forced her head up with great effort.
The anguished expression—as if she were barely holding onto her sanity—moved Wishit to clench his jaw tightly.
The tears pooled in her wide eyes trembled precariously, never quite falling.
It felt like a will—desperate and resolute even in chaos—to remain utterly composed.
“I’m going to use my second Wish.”
Her second Wish.
To Rubetria, who had sworn she would not use even a third Wish if it meant staying with Wishit—even unto death—this would likely be her last.
That second Wish.
“All right.”
Wishit smiled sadly and wiped away the tears pooling in her eyes, then asked:
“What do you wish for?”
* * *
Lark’s eyes opened to the pale dawn light filtering through the window.
The clock pointed to 5 a.m.—the same wake time for the past several years.
“Hm.”
He rose, rolling his stiff neck, and shed his nightgown as he stood before the mirror.
And as usual, he glanced at the small table beside the full-length mirror. A calendar lay there, dense with appointments.
[January 13th.
07:00 Imperial Palace Guard
09:00 Diolus Duchy Mansion
14:00 Ruby]
Scanning today’s schedule, Lark’s eyes caught on Rubetria’s name and his mouth curved into a small smile.
Before, whenever they had made plans, he would write her down stiffly as just “the Diolus heiress”….
Now seeing how much closer they had grown made him laugh.
Bang, bang, bang, bang!
Then.
A commotion that had no place in this hour of profound stillness.
Lark started at the noise beyond his door.
“M-My lady! You mustn’t do this!”
“Why is she doing that?!”
The flustered voices of his guards and attendants outside carried through the door.
Startled, Lark quickly threw his gown back on and hurried toward the door.
“What—”
Creak!
And he froze.
The door swung open rudely from the outside before he could even reach it.
“Rubetria?”
There stood Rubetria, her hair disheveled and wild.
“Ah… ah….”
“Why….”
With eyes reddened for reasons he could not fathom, her mouth hanging open as she choked out sobs, Rubetria collapsed into Lark’s arms.

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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