Chapter 61 In the Mirror of Edith
Alexander strode out of the lounge, his eyes sweeping the crowd with sharp urgency. No sign of Celeste. His frown deepened. Without slowing, he cut through the side corridor and pushed open the glass doors leading to the hotel's rear garden.
By the fountain, a lone figure stood with her back to him, shoulders trembling.
"Celeste." His voice was low, but it carried.
She froze at the sound, her posture stiffening. Instead of turning, she lowered her head further, and the quiet hitch in her breath became an audible sob.
Alexander stepped closer. Her makeup was smeared, black traces smudged at the corners of her eyes. His brow tightened. For a moment, he simply looked at her, breathing in slowly, forcing down the irritation rising in him at her public display.
"What happened?" His tone was controlled, but edged. "Running out like that... do you have any idea how important that room was just now?"
His words hit like a spark on dry tinder.
Celeste's head snapped up, her eyes red and wet as she glared at him. "Do I know how I looked? Alex, maybe you should ask yourself how you looked! Yes, I know the occasion mattered, so I kept quiet, I tried to help you, tried to make a good impression. And you—your eyes were only on Caroline!"
She stepped closer, her hand trembling as she pointed at him. "She says a few words, and you thank her... sincerely!"
Her tears fell faster, blurring the delicate features of her face. Her voice rose. "Do you even remember who she is? She's the one who killed Edith! She's a disgrace to both the Hamiltons and the Nevilles! She's a mute who can't even speak properly! Why should she take my place, steal the attention that should be mine, take even the smallest bit of your praise?"
Her chest heaved. "Just because she happened to say something Andrew liked tonight, you forget everything she's done? You forget Edith?"
Alexander's expression hardened, his gaze turning to ice. At Edith's name, something darker flickered in his eyes—a flash of violence—but he didn't lash out. His lips pressed into a thin line.
"Are you finished?" His voice was flat.
Celeste's sobbing faltered. He continued, his tone cold. "Celeste, watch your position. And watch your words."
"My position?" Her laugh was brittle, laced with bitterness. "What position do I have? The Neville family's unwanted foster daughter? Or your convenient stand-in—Edith's shadow when you need her, discarded when you don't?"
"Enough." His voice cut sharp, low but commanding.
He stepped forward, gripping her shoulders. "Listen to me. I told you before—what I promised hasn't changed. I said when I divorce Caroline, I will marry you. And I will. But the condition..."
His eyes narrowed. "...is that you do what you're supposed to do. Stay in line. Know your limits. Don't cause trouble. And don't test my patience."
Celeste stared at him, stunned. It was the first time he had spoken to her with such weight, and for a moment, she was too taken aback to respond.
Fear crept in, slow and cold.
She realized then—Alexander would always indulge Edith without question. But for her, the substitute, his warmth could vanish at any moment.
"Tonight, you lost control," Alexander said, voice clipped. "In front of Andrew, your suggestions and performance didn't help me—they made him think less of you. And by extension, less of me. Do you understand?"
Celeste shrank slightly under his gaze, but the reminder of his promise steadied her. She sniffed, then tried to defend herself in a softer tone. "I just wanted to help you... I didn't want Caroline to outshine me. Tonight she—"
"She did help," Alexander interrupted. "That's undeniable. But you're right—it was luck. Caroline is exactly what I've always said she is—a liar, vicious at heart, the kind of woman who could harm her own sister. That little spark of cleverness doesn't change anything. The only reason she's still here, dressed in silk and standing in these rooms, is because..."
His mouth curved into a cold smile. "...she still has a sliver of usefulness. I need her to hold the title of my wife for now, to avoid certain scrutiny and unnecessary complications. And occasionally, like tonight, she can serve a minor purpose in front of certain people. When that usefulness is gone—when her debt is paid at any cost..."
He didn't finish. The contempt in his eyes was enough.
Celeste felt her anger ebb, replaced by relief. Yes—Caroline was still, in his mind, the one who had destroyed Edith. And she herself was the promised future, the rightful woman who would stand beside him.
"Really, Alex?" Her voice was tentative. "You're not... swayed by her tonight? You still hate her most?"
Alexander exhaled, letting go of her shoulders. He cupped her face, brushing away the tears at her lashes.
"Of course," he said with certainty. "I will never forget how Edith died. Caroline's debt will be paid in full—with all she owns. And you..."
He dropped his hands, drawing her into his arms. "...just be yourself. Don't dwell on things you shouldn't. And never repeat tonight's mistake. As long as you're like Edith—sweet, obedient—everything I've promised you will be yours."
The first half of his words brought a flicker of satisfaction to Celeste's chest. But the last sentence chilled her.
She knew well—Alexander's love belonged to Edith. His affection for her existed only because she resembled Edith. He encouraged her to mimic Edith's mannerisms, her voice, her way of moving.
She had always understood this. She had always known Alexander needed a living reflection of what he had lost.
But hearing it again was like a needle pressed into her heart.
She smothered the sting quickly. It didn't matter. Time was long. The dead could not live forever in someone's mind. People needed hope, needed a future—things the dead could never give.
If she stayed close enough to Edith's image, one day, she could replace her entirely.
Celeste didn't argue. She didn't resist. She leaned into his embrace, nodding softly. "I understand, Alex. I won't do it again. I'll be good. I won't cause trouble. Please... don't be angry with me."
Alexander said nothing more. His arm stayed firm around her as his gaze drifted toward the distant glow spilling from the banquet hall.
Where Celeste couldn't see, a flicker of disgust crossed his face.