Path of the Extra

Though she felt reluctant, Jasmine had to split up with Azriel. He went with Nol and the child, Lia, to buy her more candy—anything to cheer her up as the seconds without her missing brother stretched longer and longer.

Jasmine was the one who had arranged it that way.

Oddly enough, the festival was the perfect chance to clear certain things up with the few people she truly loved.

There was one person left—one conversation Jasmine still needed to have, now that she had spoken with Azriel. That heavy talk had given her something she hadn’t realized she was missing: perspective. Understanding. And, painfully, realization.

So her being with Celestina right now was not coincidence.

Jasmine had planned it.

They needed to talk.

She watched Celestina quietly through her mask, her eyes amused, as Celestina stood before a stall and examined the hairpins. She picked them up one by one, turning them between her fingers, then setting them back down—again and again.

They were cheap, clearly unworthy of either of their status, but after the pent-up emotions of the months inside this scenario, the responsibilities weighing on their shoulders, and the strange magic of those fireworks today… neither of them cared about quality tonight.

For once, they were simply allowed to enjoy something small.

Celestina’s eyes seemed to glow as she inspected each hairpin with sharp, almost reverent focus—sparkling like the stars above.

’She has always been curious about anything that catches her interest.’

Jasmine smiled to herself, remembering when they had been younger. More often than not, Celestina’s curiosity had gotten her into trouble, and Jasmine had been the one to pull her out of it.

Maybe “curiosity” wasn’t even the right word.

Obsession fit better.

Celestina became easily obsessed with whatever fascinated her.

And just as Jasmine looked at Azriel with a gaze full of love, Jasmine had always looked at Celestina the same way.

Just as Azriel was Jasmine’s little brother…

Celestina had been Jasmine’s little sister too.

They weren’t related by blood, but they had spent so much time together that it was hard to feel otherwise. Back then, Jasmine and Celestina had been inseparable. Jasmine had always thought of the little Frost princess as her little sister.

And in some ways…

Jasmine had been closer to Celestina than even Azriel.

She had spent more time with Celestina than she ever had with Azriel—Azriel, who so often avoided people, lost in whatever he was doing.

’Well… he and Lioren.’

That still unsettled Jasmine. The idea that Azriel and Lioren had spent so much time together, every time she had wondered where Azriel was…

Even now, she couldn’t fully picture it.

But that was the past.

Yes.

Everything was in the past.

The way Celestina once looked at Jasmine like an older sister…

That was in the past too.

No one here would suspect how tainted and broken the relationships between the four heirs had become.

No one would notice the faint awkwardness that lingered between Celestina and Jasmine even now—no matter how much they smiled, no matter how easily they spoke.

That bond they once had had been severed.

And the one who had severed it was none other than Jasmine herself.

Her sad smile was hidden safely behind her mask.

How cruel.

She should have been enjoying the festival more. Instead, all Jasmine seemed to be doing today was dragging the people she loved back into painful memories.

But…

She wanted to try.

At least once.

To mend another bond she had once torn apart so coldly.

“Celestina,” Jasmine called softly, her tone gentle, almost soothing.

Celestina turned with mild surprise, setting a red hairpin back down. Unlike Jasmine, she stopped wearing her mask—finding it too uncomfortable.

“Yes?” Celestina asked patiently, tilting her head slightly.

To Jasmine, it only made her look more adorable.

Celestina, of course, had no idea how cute—and beautiful—she looked right now.

“Do any of these catch your eye?”

Jasmine stepped closer and turned toward the rows of hairpins.

To anyone watching, it would have looked like a normal interaction between two girls.

But they would have missed the tension gathering between them.

They would have missed how Celestina, with the smallest of movements, tried to create distance.

“I don’t know,” Celestina replied calmly, studying the hairpins with serious focus. “They’re all so pretty. I can’t seem to choose.”

’As I thought… she’s still angry with me.’

Jasmine swallowed a sigh and kept herself calm. She picked up the red hairpin Celestina had just set down.

It was simple, but lovely.

Jasmine nodded to herself, pleased.

Then she turned and tossed a small bag of coins to the stall owner, paying for it before Celestina could even process what was happening.

Celestina blinked, startled—only to become even more surprised when Jasmine turned back with mischief in her eyes.

Before Celestina had any chance to react—and with no hope of winning against Jasmine in speed—the red hairpin was suddenly pinned into Celestina’s silver hair.

“…Huh?”

Still dumbfounded, Celestina’s hand drifted up on instinct. She touched the pin in her hair lightly, as if she needed to confirm it was really there.

Jasmine chuckled at her baffled expression.

“It suits you,” Jasmine said warmly.

Celestina looked at her—eyes saying one thing, painfully obvious.

Why?

Jasmine turned and started walking.

Celestina hesitated for a moment, fingers lingering at the hairpin, then decided to keep it. She hurried to catch up and walk beside her.

Jasmine looked around as if nothing had changed, humming cheerfully. Then she finally spoke, and Celestina’s attention sharpened completely, fixed on her.

“You still haven’t given me a proper answer, now that I think about it, Celestina. I asked you last time whether you wanted us to go back to how we used to be.”

Celestina froze.

Luckily, Jasmine had already led them far enough away that there were barely any people nearby. She stopped, turned around, and faced Celestina.

Celestina stared back with wide eyes, her gaze darting as if she didn’t know where to put herself.

“So?” Jasmine pressed.

“Do you want to, Celestina?”

To Celestina, the question sounded almost poisoned.

At last, she forced herself to meet Jasmine’s eyes. Her lips pressed together. Her fists clenched at her sides as she tried to keep her heart from pounding out of her chest.

“You…” Celestina began.

“During that sleepover we had at the academy—in Azriel’s room… you said we should act more like the heiresses of our clans. You said we should keep our distance.”

It felt like she had said those exact words before. Because it had been true then, too.

And it had broken her heart.

She still couldn’t understand Jasmine’s sudden shifts—how warm she could be one moment, and distant the next.

Jasmine’s smile turned sorrowful behind the mask.

“You know the truth, Celestina…” Jasmine paused, biting her lip beneath the mask. She hesitated only a second.

“I lied when I said that.”

“What?”

Celestina’s eyes widened.

“I didn’t say it because I wanted us to be ’proper heiresses,’ no matter what,” Jasmine continued. “I said it because… I thought it was for your sake.”

But then she shook her head.

“No. That isn’t true either. I didn’t say it for your sake.”

Her voice lowered.

“I said it because I was selfish. And scared.”

Celestina could only stare at her, dazed.

“I was excited when I suggested the sleepover,” Jasmine admitted. “But then… I got afraid that if we got close again, it would cause more problems for you than for me. That you’d get hurt again because of me.”

Jasmine’s voice tightened.

“I didn’t want that. I didn’t want to be the one to hurt you more than I already have.”

Jasmine was the one who broke eye contact first. She looked down, as if trying to keep her shoulders from trembling the way her voice threatened to.

“You hate me, don’t you, Celestina?” she asked quietly. “For most of the past two years… I’ve been the one hurting you.”

Jasmine had to stop there, afraid that if she said any more, she would actually cry.

Celestina looked shocked. Then her lips pressed together, trembling. She turned her face away, brows drawn tight, her expression so devastated it made Jasmine’s chest ache.

“I don’t hate you,” Celestina said suddenly, her voice quiet and shaking—melancholy threaded with anger she had kept buried.

Jasmine lifted her head, startled.

“But I resent you.”

“Ah…”

A sound escaped Jasmine’s lips as her heart seemed to freeze for a moment. Celestina looked at her with an expression that made Jasmine drop her gaze again in shame.

“I thought we were as good as sisters,” Celestina continued, as her voice cracked. “You said I was basically your little sister… but you lied.”

“I-I didn’t!” Jasmine blurted, voice rising with desperation.

“That was never a lie! You are my little sister!”

“THEN WHY DID YOU ABANDON ME?!”

“…!”

Celestina clamped her mouth shut immediately after the outburst, she hadn’t meant to let it escape.

Her hands lowered slowly. She gritted her teeth and spoke again, her voice even shakier now.

“You—out of everyone—knew my fears best. What I loved. What I hated. You… you promised you would never leave… and then you became so cold and cruel. You ignored me for… for two whole years.”

Her voice broke, then sharpened again.

“You treated me like some stranger you hated!”

Jasmine flinched, trying to speak—but no words came out.

Celestina continued.

“I get it… you were hurt. You thought Azriel died, and it broke you. But…” Her voice trembled.

“…You also left me.”

She swallowed.

“I know what I’m saying is… selfish, after you thought you lost your brother, but… but to me, it felt like my sister… died.”

Her eyes glistened.

“…You’re as selfish as me.”

’Yeah… I am.’

Jasmine admitted it silently, inside her own mind.

’I’m the most selfish person in the universe.’

Because she always got what she wanted.

Even if it meant abandoning a sisterhood that had lasted more than a decade.

Celestina wasn’t selfish.

Jasmine had hurt her.

Azriel’s death was no excuse for how she had treated Celestina—after everything she had promised the silver-haired girl.

After the promise she made never to abandon her again…

That day.

The day that loathsome Skinwalker infiltrated the Frost estate and murdered the former king and queen of the Frost Clan—right in front of Celestina’s eyes.

Jasmine had promised to heal her scars.

And all she had done was give her new ones.

She was cruel and selfish.

“…I’m sorry.”

The words squeaked out of Jasmine Crimson’s throat—thin, shaky, and painfully small.

They were the only comfort she could offer the princess she had abandoned.

“I’m sorry for breaking my promise.”

Celestina was someone who held herself back—her emotions, her desires, her actions.

But in a moment like this, even she couldn’t stop her tears. They glistened as they rolled down her milky cheeks.

Celestina turned her face away, trying to wipe them with her hands, but it did nothing. Her tears kept coming.

So she didn’t notice Jasmine stepping closer.

She didn’t notice until Jasmine took her hands gently, letting her cry without fighting it.

Jasmine’s mask was gone now.

Celestina saw her entire face.

The teary-eyed princess of the Crimson Clan looked at her with a fragile, beautiful smile.

“All I can ask is for your forgiveness… and for one last chance to make amends for my mistakes.”

If Jasmine could time travel—if she had something like Azriel’s [redo]—she would have made sure the girl in front of her never suffered.

She would have made sure her little brother and her little sister never suffered.

“I…” Celestina’s voice faltered.

She seemed at a loss for words—maybe at the end of them.

She looked down, trying to hide the embarrassment of letting Jasmine see her like this.

Then, suddenly, she pulled her hands away from Jasmine’s grip.

Jasmine’s chest ached.

But her smile didn’t leave.

It didn’t waver.

“I… I don’t know,” Celestina admitted without looking up.

“Mhm.” Jasmine made a quiet sound of understanding.

“Then I’ll keep trying to make amends until you forgive me, even if you come to hate me.”

“That—! I would never hate—ah…”

Celestina looked up, and her breath caught when she saw Jasmine’s face again.

She looked away again, flustered, her voice becoming quieter.

“Why the sudden effort…?” she asked before she could stop herself.

“Because you’re one of the few people I hold dearly in my heart.”

Celestina fought down the smile that threatened to form, her cheeks turning faintly rosy.

“…I guess… you could try…”

The only response Celestina got was the sound of a dull thud.

Still embarrassed, she didn’t look up right away.

“…Jasmine?”

A sudden unease crept over her. Celestina frowned and turned toward Jasmine, her heartbeat quickening for reasons she couldn’t understand.

Then she finally looked at her.

And in that instant, the world seemed to lose all warmth. Her eyes widened at the sight of Princess Jasmine Crimson lying motionless on the ground.

“Jas…mine…?”