Chapter 69: Two Faces, One Monster

The candles hissed more intensely, their flames flickering as if they had a life of their own. The red light cast a shadow over the marble floor like spilled blood.

Camela still held onto Vincent tightly but he was unsteady, his body weight pressing heavily against her. His golden eyes flickered dimly, still under the influence of the flower's power.

Her father stood from the throne. The lace gloves on his hands crinkled as he moved his fingers carefully with an unsettling eagerness.

“Daughter,” he said, his voice smooth like silk yet sharp as a blade. “Do not be afraid. This crown has always belonged to you.”

Camela fought to keep her voice steady despite her chest throbbing with fear. “You’re not real. You’re just a trick. He killed you.”

Her father tilted his head slightly, maintaining a calm and patient smile. “Killed? Or merged?”

The air behind him shimmered.

Another figure emerged from the dark—Vincent. His golden eyes, a sly grin, the same face, and the same body.

Camela’s heart raced. She glanced down at the Vincent she held, battered and bloody in her arms. He was real—wasn’t he?

Her voice trembled as she asked, “What…what is happening?”

The second Vincent—clean and flawless, stood tall before her with a smile that was the same as the smile her father wore: Two faces. One monster.

The flawless Vincent stepped closer, his boots made no sound against the marble floor.

“You believe you have chosen, Camela,” he said softly, “but choice is an illusion. What you call husband and what you call father…they share the same origin. The same blood.”

Camela shook her head fiercely, holding onto the injured Vincent tightly.

“No! You’re not him! He’s here! He’s real!” she responded fiercely.

The flawless Vincent crouched down to meet her eye level, his smile unnervingly calm. “Is he? Or is he just what you wish him to be?”

The Vincent in her arms groaned weakly but firmly said, “Don’t look at him! He’s not me.”

Her father’s voice resonated from both mouth sources at once—one from the throne and the other from the flawless Vincent kneeling in front of her:

“Daughter…you’re too blind. I have always worn the fox’s face. You only ever loved me.”

Camela felt a knot form in her stomach, nearly overwhelming her as she almost threw up.

“No!” She spat out the word, trembling. “Don’t say that. He isn’t you. It can’t be true.”

The flawless Vincent leaned in closer, his breath grazing her cheek. “But he is. You need to choose which mask you want to keep.”

Her father on the throne lifted something from his lap—a crown made not of gold but of twisted lace, hardened and stained with dried blood, pulsing faintly as though alive.

“Place it on your head, Camela,” he instructed. “Then all illusions will vanish. You will see the truth and discover who he really is.”

Camela’s throat felt parched, and her hands shook uncontrollably.

The lace crown seemed to whisper as if with a hundred voices: “Wear me. Choose. See.”

The Vincent she held in her arms coughed up blood staining his lips. “Don’t touch it! Whatever it shows you…it’s poison.”

The flawless Vincent smirked confidently. “Of course he would say that; he’s weak and he's afraid for you to see him for who he really is.”

Her father’s gaze burned intensely into hers. “Daughter, you cannot run forever from what you already know. Wear the crown and let the truth be uncovered to you.”

The crown pulsed once more, its whispers growing louder as her hand twitched without her conscious will toward it.

She almost reached out to the crown—

Vincent tightened his grip on her wrist, weak yet firm. “Camela, look at me…not him. Focus on me please.”

Her breath caught in her throat as she looked into his eyes—gold and dim, filled with emotions yet shaking with fear. They seemed human and felt real.

Her hand froze just inches away from the crown

The air in the throne room cracked like glass for a moment, causing both Vincents to overlap—the injured one in her arms and the flawless one kneeling before her—their faces rippling and blurring together.

Her father’s laughter boomed through the hall, bouncing off the walls as it echoed from both Vincent’s mouths:

"Two faces. One monster. Can't you see? The fox you love…he carries me inside him. I never left. I never died. He is me. I am him."

The flawless Vincent’s smile stretched unnaturally wide, reaching from ear to ear. His eyes were split down the middle—one half golden, the other half her father’s cold gray.

Camela felt a knot in her stomach. "Stop! Just stop!"

The injured Vincent cried out, holding his chest as he spoke with a rasping voice. “Camela...it’s true. He’s inside me. But I'm not him. Please…believe me.”

Her father's voice sneered through the flawless Vincent. “He lies! He is precisely nothing but my shell. You want freedom? Kill him! End the fox, and I'll end with him too. Then you can wear the crown and bloom forever.”

The crown glowed brighter, pulsing with desire.

Camela gasped for breath as her heart raced at the thought of killing Vincent to free herself from her father.

She looked down at the man in her arms, he was shaking and broken, his chest still bleeding from the giant flower's wound. His golden eyes locked onto hers, pleading and filled with desperation.

“Don’t do it,” he urged softly. “Don’t let him trick you. I am not him.”

The throne room shifted around them as the marble floor melted into mirrors, reflecting endless images of herself, Vincent, and her father. Each mirror showed a different version—Vincent smiling with her father's face, her father wearing fox ears, and Camela herself crowned in blood.

She stood stunned, as she stared at the endless reflections

The flawless Vincent stood tall, extending his hand toward her. “Join me! Wear the crown! Together we shall rule…father and daughter, husband and wife. Two faces, one body…forever.”

The Vincent she held in her arms gritted his teeth in fury, clenching her sleeve tightly.

“Don't accept it! If you do…you’ll lose yourself…and me,” he whispered.

Her father's voice rumbled like thunder in response. “Daughter! Decide now! Choose blood or bloom. Choose truth or lie…you cannot have both.”

Her body trembled as tears filled her eyes. Still shaky, she responded fiercely.

"Why?!" she shouted. "Why do I have to choose? Why can't you just let me live?"

The flawless Vincent leaned in closer, his lips nearly touching her ear. "Because you are mine. And those who are mine cannot belong to another."

Camela’s sob tore through her chest, she shoved him away while shaking.

"I am not yours!" she replied.

The lace crown screamed inside her head: “Wear me. Choose. See.”

Her hands hovered uncertainly with the crown, caught between decisions.

The injured Vincent spoke softly again, "Camela…if you love me, don’t wear it."

Suddenly, the mirrors shattered all at once. Glass shards fell, cutting into her arms and into Vincent’s skin, spilling blood on the marble floor.

The flawless Vincent's body split open as lace ripped through his chest like roots. His face flickered—father, husband, fox, stranger—all at once.

“Two faces,” her father growled with a booming voice, “but there’s only one truth: one monster…and it’s him!”

The injured Vincent held her hand tighter, urging her to look into his eyes. His voice was shaky and raw with emotion. “Camela…please listen to me. Even if he’s inside of me…I’m not him. I swear it; you have to trust me.”

She shook her head while sobbing uncontrollably. “How can I trust you? How do I know which one of you is real?” she asked.

Vincent's lips quivered as he hesitated before replying to her. “Because I love you…and he never did.”

Her heart tightened painfully in response.

The flawless Vincent snarled, his face morphing into that of her father’s. “Lies! He is my shell…my vessel! Kill him and you kill me! Do that and you will be free!”

The crown's voice roared inside her head again, drowning out every thought: “Kill him! Kill him! Kill him!”

Camela screamed and clutched her head as blood dripped down from the lace crown, glowing and burning against her skin.

She finally dropped the crown; it hit the marble floor with a shattering scream before splintering into ash.

The flawless Vincent shrieked and staggered back as his body ripped apart down the middle—half fox and half father—twisting and writhing in agony.

The throne collapsed. The candles erupted into towering flames.

Her father’s voice echoed from both mouths:

“Ungrateful daughter! You can’t defeat me! You cannot choose both! If you refuse the crown…then I’ll claim the fox for myself!”

The flawless Vincent lunged at the injured one. Their bodies slammed together, colliding—one form, two faces.

Vincent cried out in her arms, his golden eyes flashing and flickering gray. “Camela…help me…”

The two faces merged—father and husband, snarling and twisting into a single figure, one body.

The monster turned its head toward her. Half her father. Half Vincent. Both smiling.

“Daughter,” it said, its voice layered and inhuman. “Choose me…Or I will choose you.”

The flames surged higher and swallowed the hall.