CHAPTER 214: REALIZATION

Chapter 214

Daphne

I watch from my balcony, as the scene unfolds.

Amused.

From up here, the glittering floor of the ballroom is like a stage, and the little actors are playing their parts perfectly.

I watch as Felix ditches whichever fawning girl had his arm last and stomps—actually stomps—toward Poppy and my dear Isaac.

A proud moment, really.

May or may not have threatened Isaac into agreeing to be Poppy’s date tonight. May or may not have called it "a favor to an old friend" while implying I’d break his legs if he refused. Details.

System, I call mentally.

The purple orb flickers into view at my side. Since Nima hasn’t shown the faintest reaction, I know only I can see it.

What’s the current state of emotions?

[The male lead Felix is feeling jealousy, betrayal, anger.]

I snort, unable to stop myself. This guy? This same man was laughing so hard a moment ago I could see his molars. I’d bet my tail he didn’t think of Poppy even once while he was basking in the attention of four women. But now? Now he’s acting like someone’s stolen his crown.

And Poppy? I ask.

[Embarrassed, annoyed, frustrated.]

I grin, lips curling in satisfaction. Exactly what I wanted—a visible crack in their delicate little relationship. Felix has done nothing to build something real with these women except look good and stand in the middle of the room like the world owes him applause.

System, can you feed me their voices?

[Granted.]

And suddenly, in my ears, as if I were standing right beside them, their words fill the air.

***

Poppy

This is the moment I used to dream about—Felix and I, dressed to kill, at a grand event like this. Only... the joy I thought I’d feel isn’t there. I’m irritated.

When I walked in with Isaac, Felix was the glittering centerpiece of the entire ballroom—laughing, spinning women under chandeliers. I told myself I wouldn’t be the jealous type. I knew what I was getting into. A man like Felix was never going to be mine alone. But still... there’s a limit.

"Did I interrupt?" Felix asks, voice tight, jaw clenched.

"Yes," I answer, short and clipped.

He lets out a humorless laugh. "Ha."

I refuse to give him the satisfaction of more. I will not make a scene at my very first ball.

"Were you really happy with that spineless fool?" he presses, his voice a low growl.

"He’s a herbivore," I say coolly. "Of course if a predator—and not just any predator, a Leonhart shows up, he’ll back down. That doesn’t make him spineless."

Felix’s golden eyes sharpen, ears angling forward, the subtle twitch of a predator’s temper flaring. His grip on my hand tightens just enough for me to feel the warning in it.

As if calming himself, Felix exhales once, slow and deliberate.

"Follow me." His tone leaves no room for apology—only command.

Before I can respond, he’s already pulling me toward the exit. The warmth of the ballroom fades behind us, replaced by the sting of dozens of curious gazes following our retreat. My cheeks burn. I send a quick, apologetic glance toward Isaac, who looks half-concerned, half-defensive, but doesn’t move to intervene.

The night air greets us as we step into the Marquis’ garden—a dreamscape of sculpted hedges and lantern-lit paths. Normally I would have stopped to admire the flowers, the glow, the way the fountain sparkles like scattered stars. But right now? I don’t have it in me.

"Let go," I say sharply, pulling my hand from his.

He stops, exhales again, and looks at me with an expression somewhere between wounded and angry.

"Are we not together? How could you come to the ball on the arm of another man?" His voice is thick with something like heartbreak. On another night—another year—seeing him like this would have made me cave. But tonight, I’m holding my ground.

"Well, as my partner," I reply evenly, "why didn’t you bring me here yourself?"

"You know I—" he starts.

"Oh, please," I cut in, folding my arms. "Don’t start with the excuses. Daphne has immense authority, and she’s a duchess. And you? You’re a prince. Are you telling me you couldn’t?"

"That’s different, you know it is," he says, frustration flashing in his eyes.

"It’s only been a year, Poppy. Everyone’s watching me—waiting for me to fail. I can’t make rash moves. I can’t show up with..." He stops, but it’s too late.

The words hang between us, unfinished but loud enough to echo in my chest. And just like that, the Felix I knew is gone, it was time I come to this realization.

"I understand," I say quietly. "So what was I supposed to do? Sit alone all night while you danced your heart away with them?"

"Of course not," he says quickly.

"I was going to sneak out later, and we’d have gone to the festival in town. Like old times." His smile is soft, and yes—he’s still beautiful. But for the first time, my heart doesn’t skip a beat.

"But I wanted to come to the ball," I say. "I wanted to dress up and feel pretty. Why do they get that, while I’m only worthy of the local festival?"

He has no answer.

And I already know why. Felix is now a prince. I’m still... me. And it’s time I stopped pretending that hasn’t changed everything.

"I think we should talk again later," I tell him. Then I turn and walk away, not looking back.

The cool night air brushes against my skin, but it doesn’t soothe the tightness in my chest.

For the first time, I let the question form in my mind—dangerous, heavy.

Is this really the life I want?

To always be on the sidelines, dressed up for someone else’s convenience, smiling from the shadows while others stand in the light?

The thought settles in me like ice. And no matter how much I want to deny it, I can’t.