Transmigrated into Eroge as the Simp, but I Refuse This Fate-Chapter 75: School (3)

Celia barely had time to formulate a response before a group of girls suddenly approached, their voices filled with disbelief and excitement.

"Celia!" A blonde girl, Victoria Langley, gasped as she came to a stop beside her. Her emerald-green eyes shimmered with curiosity. "Tell me it's not true! Did the engagement really get called off?"

"Yeah, Celia, what happened?" Another girl, Cassandra Merlot, chimed in, her perfectly manicured nails clutching onto her clutch bag. "Damien Elford has been after you for years! Everyone thought it was a done deal!"

A third girl, Lillian Duvall, leaned in, lowering her voice conspiratorially. "Did he do something? Did he mess up? Oh, please say yes."

Celia's mind raced as she schooled her features into a carefully neutral expression. The last thing she needed was to let Iris see a crack in her composure.

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Iris, of course, stood back, watching the entire exchange with mild amusement, as if enjoying the way Celia had just been thrust into the spotlight. Her crimson eyes gleamed, her lips twitching in a knowing smirk.

'That bitch planned this,' Celia realized immediately. Whether Iris had orchestrated it or simply taken advantage of the moment, it didn't matter—the result was the same.

A test.

A trap.

Celia exhaled lightly, giving the girls a slow, practiced smile. "Rumors are so quick to spread, aren't they?" she mused, flipping a lock of sapphire-blue hair over her shoulder. "I didn't realize my personal affairs were such a hot topic this morning."

"Oh, come on, Celia, don't play coy!" Victoria pressed, practically bouncing on her heels. "Everyone's talking about it. How could something like this happen?"

"Did you end it, or did he?" Cassandra added, her tone sharp with intrigue.

Celia let out a soft laugh, tilting her head. "Now, now," she said smoothly, "does it really matter?"

That only fueled their curiosity.

"Of course it does!" Lillian pouted. "You were the power couple of Vermillion! And Damien—" she sighed, shaking her head dramatically. "Poor guy. He must be devastated."

Celia's fingers twitched, but she kept her expression serene.

Poor guy?

Damien Elford?

That fool?

She barely resisted the urge to scoff.

Still, she had to play this right.

She had to shift the narrative before someone else controlled it.

Celia let out a soft, amused breath, tilting her head ever so slightly as she regarded the eager faces before her.

A misunderstanding.

That was all this was.

That was all it would be once she was done.

There was no future where Damien Elford would be allowed to walk away from her. Not without consequences. Not without paying for it. And as for his mother—that insufferable whore who had dared to look down on her—Celia would make sure she regretted every word she had spoken.

So she would not let the narrative slip from her grasp.

She would control it.

With a carefully measured smile, she exhaled lightly, as if this entire conversation was little more than a passing inconvenience. "You girls really are something," she mused, shaking her head slightly. "One little rumor spreads, and suddenly, the entire school is in an uproar."

Victoria pouted. "So it's not true?"

Celia arched an eyebrow, allowing a deliberate pause before she replied, "Of course not." Her voice was smooth, effortless. "There was a misunderstanding, that's all. Nothing has been decided."

The moment the words left her lips, she felt the shift—the way their eager curiosity morphed into relief, intrigue, and excitement.

"See? I knew it," Cassandra huffed, flipping her hair over one shoulder. "People just love to make drama where there is none."

Lillian's eyes gleamed mischievously. "So, what was the misunderstanding?"

Celia sighed, as if she found the whole situation mildly exhausting rather than frustrating. "Damien and I had a disagreement—a private one—and, well, you know how people talk."

Victoria giggled. "Ugh, that must be so annoying. Everyone always has something to say, don't they?"

Celia smiled lightly, tucking a lock of sapphire-blue hair behind her ear. "I suppose it can't be helped," she said airily. "But, really, you all worry too much. Damien and I have been together for years—do you think something so trivial would change that?"

There.

That was enough.

Enough to plant doubt.

Enough to ensure that no one dared to assume that she had been discarded.

Because Celia Everwyn was not the kind of woman a man simply left behind.

She glanced at Iris, whose gaze remained unreadable—too amused for Celia's liking.

That bitch.

She knew exactly what Celia was doing.

But that didn't matter.

Because Celia knew exactly what she was doing, too.

She had already decided.

By the end of today, everything would be back in her control.

And those who had humiliated her—

Would pay for it tenfold.

Iris chuckled softly, the sound like silk brushing against steel. The slight tilt of her head, the gleam in her crimson eyes—Celia knew what was coming before she even spoke.

"A misunderstanding?" Iris mused, folding her arms gracefully. "How curious." She let the words settle, her gaze flickering with feigned thoughtfulness before she added, "Lady Elford seemed quite confident about the matter when she was overheard speaking about it."

The other girls exchanged glances, their curiosity reigniting.

"Wait, what?" Victoria gasped, her emerald eyes widening. "Lady Elford actually spoke about it?"

"That's not just some random rumor then," Cassandra murmured, tapping her manicured nails against her clutch. "If Damien's own mother said something, then—"

Lillian cut in, her lips curling with amusement. "This Damien must have done something, didn't he?" She rolled her eyes, as if the answer was obvious. "I mean, come on. It's Damien Elford we're talking about."

Cassandra scoffed. "Exactly! He's been simping after Celia for years, throwing gifts at her, practically worshipping the ground she walks on. What could he possibly have done to make Lady Elford so certain?"

"Honestly," Lillian smirked, "he should have been grateful Celia even tolerated him."

Victoria giggled. "Right? He was always so desperate for her attention, it was kind of pathetic."

Celia listened, her smile never faltering, but inside, her irritation flared. These fools were enjoying this too much.

Iris, of course, stood back, watching it unfold with open amusement, her crimson gaze flicking to Celia as if waiting to see how she would spin this next.

Celia inhaled softly, schooling her features into one of quiet amusement. This wasn't an obstacle. This was an opportunity.

If they thought Damien was beneath her, then that meant they still believed she had the power in this situation.

And that was all she needed.

She let out a soft, elegant laugh, tilting her head just slightly. "Oh, you girls," she murmured. "So dramatic."

The moment the words left her lips, the air shifted again. The girls hung on to her next sentence, eager to be fed another piece of carefully controlled information.

Celia let the tension linger, let their anticipation build—then, with the perfect balance of indulgence and nonchalance, she spoke.

"Damien is… Damien," she said smoothly. "And like any man, he makes mistakes."

A deliberate pause.

"But," she added lightly, "it's nothing I can't handle."

The meaning was clear. Whatever had happened, whatever Damien had done, it didn't change the fact that she was the one in control.

Lillian exhaled dramatically. "Ugh, well, I hope you at least put him in his place."

Victoria smirked. "Yeah. He needs to remember he's lucky you even look his way."

Cassandra nodded. "Honestly, Celia, if you wanted to drop him, no one would blame you."

The conversation had been brimming with amusement, whispers, and knowing smirks—until the shift happened.

The courtyard, once filled with a steady hum of gossip and idle chatter, had grown noticeably quieter.

Not silent, not yet. But hushed.

Enough for Victoria to pause mid-sentence, for Cassandra's fingers to still against her clutch, and for Lillian to flick her gaze around in mild confusion.

Celia, too, felt it.

An instinct sharpened by years in high society—a subtle awareness that something had changed. The kind of change that demanded attention.

Then, almost as one, they turned to look.

And what they saw made them freeze.

A young man strode through the courtyard, his hands tucked into his pockets, his gait steady and deliberate. His black hair, no longer greasy and unkempt, framed his face, slightly tousled yet effortlessly sharp. But it was his eyes—icy blue, piercing, unreadable—that made the air feel heavier.

It wasn't just the color.

It was the way they held no hesitation, no weakness, no sign of the desperate, simpering fool they all expected.

Victoria inhaled sharply. "What?"

Cassandra's grip on her clutch tightened, her brows furrowing.

Lillian took an instinctive step forward, as if seeing clearer would make sense of what was in front of her.

"What?" she repeated, her voice laced with disbelief.

"That's… Damien Elford?"