The zipper slid up as Daisy stood in front of the full-length mirror, her reflection catching in the soft amber light. The dress hugged her in all the right places, elegant but intentionally just a shade too dramatic for a simple dinner. Pearl-white satin with a thigh-high slit, delicate straps falling off her shoulders like she hadn’t tried too hard, even though she absolutely had.
Her lips curled into a subtle smile, not quite joy, not quite mischief. Just enough to confuse even herself.
She adjusted one of the off-shoulder straps, letting it fall a little farther than it needed to. Then she opened the door of the dressing room and slowly stepped out.
The moment her steps stopped, her eye landed on Theo, the man who dragged her to come here.
Theo stood there, suit impeccable, posture sharp as always, like he’d just stepped out of a boardroom. His eyes moved over her once, slow and unreadable, before returning to the tablet in his hand.
No reaction. Not even a blink.
Daisy scoffed under her breath. "Tch. What do I expect?"
She turned slightly toward the mirror beside them, admiring the way the slit of the dress shifted with every subtle move. "You could at least pretend to look stunned," she muttered, not really to him but just loud enough.
Theo didn’t look up. "We’re already late."
Daisy, on the other hand, ignored Theo’s words and turned to a staff member who loyally stood there, "How do I look?" She smiled, sending her charm toward the lady.
The boutique staff, an older woman with kind eyes and a pin cushion bracelet on her wrist, froze for half a second, clearly caught off guard by the question. Then she gave a polite, slightly nervous smile.
"Oh, um... you look lovely, miss. Very elegant."
Daisy beamed, placing a hand delicately over her chest. "Thank you. I thought so too."
She tilted her head just slightly toward Theo, loud enough for him to hear. "At least someone around here knows how to use words."
Theo, unbothered, finally lifted his gaze and turned, walking toward the cashier. "Here," he said as he handed over his card.
The staff quickly swiped it, and Daisy watched, arms crossed.
"Ah, right," she muttered under her breath as she followed after him. "He’s already used up his daily word quota."
Theo strode toward the exit, his long steps sharp and impatient. Daisy barely had time to mutter another sarcastic remark before he pushed open the boutique door.
She hurried after him, her heels clicking against the floor until he came to a sudden halt. She didn’t have time to react and bumped straight into his back.
He turned around slowly. His eyes dropped to her face, then down to her feet.
"Purse," he said flatly. "Then we’re going to the marriage bureau."
Daisy blinked. "Sorry, what?"
But he was already turning again.
She quickly glanced at the boutique’s wall clock, then gasped theatrically. "Oh no, look at the time! We won’t make it today, they’re closing soon," she said, her voice sing-songy as she pointed at the clock.
She walked a little faster to catch up to him, then added, casually, "Why the rush anyway? Is someone pressuring you? Did your parents force you to get married or something?"
Her tone was light, but there was a flicker of curiosity beneath it. She wasn’t just stalling, she wanted to know.
Theo didn’t stop walking. Didn’t even glance at her.
"No," he said simply.
"Then, is this about the girl your mother mentioned before, Camellia or something?"
The moment the question dropped and the name mentioned, Theo’s gaze changed. It was soft before, but it turned sharp and he instantly glared at her,
"Is this why your name is Daisy?" he snapped, his tone suddenly brittle.
Daisy blinked, caught off guard. "Excuse me?"
He looked at her like she was nothing but noise. "A loud, ornamental name. Soft on the surface. No substance underneath."
For a second, she couldn’t breathe.
It wasn’t just an insult.
It was the way he said it, clinical, cutting, like she wasn’t a person at all. Like he was slicing off any illusion of respect with a few careless words.
"My grandmother gave me that name," she said slowly, her voice tight. "The meaning behind it... was quite special."
He didn’t respond. Just turned, got into the car, and pulled the door shut behind him like the conversation was already over.
Through the glass, he saw her still standing there, frozen and looked lost.
He rolled the window down halfway. "Do I need to wait for you now? Miss Daisy... Duck?"
She blinked. Once. Twice.
Then let out a soft, incredulous scoff. It might’ve sounded funny to someone else, but not to her. Not when that name held meaning—love, legacy, loss.
Her lips parted like she wanted to say something. But instead, she turned and walked away without another word.
But Theo? He stayed still. Actually, he did flinch as he didn’t expect the reaction. A few seconds of staring made the car idle in silence. His one hand was clenching lightly against his knee. He didn’t go after her. He never did that kind of thing. Regret wasn’t in his vocabulary.
His eyes were still on Daisy as she walked away, until a soft knock on the window snapped him out of it.
A woman leaned down beside the half-rolled window, her smile bright and uninvited. Her perfectly glossed lips curled like she belonged there, wasn’t her first time.
"It’s been a while, Theo," she said sweetly. "I missed you."
For a second, just a second, something shifted in Theo’s eyes. His expression cracked, the faintest flicker of unease, or maybe something else. Something he didn’t show often. Or at all.
And then, just like a split second, he shifted back to the Ice King’s expression.
He slowly rolled the window the rest of the way down.
"What are you doing here, Camellia?"