Chapter 36
After Irina departed, a heavy silence filled the office. It was clear that Persephone was carefully gauging whether my offer to help was sincere or not.
Today, April was not quite the April Hill Ryze they thought they knew. While they couldn’t say what effect the carriage accident had on her, the April they had come to know was far from rational or composed—she had always been ruled by emotion, constantly unsettled by her inability to control her feelings.
“You may come out now.”
It was Persephone who broke the silence. Lerbian’s gaze shifted to the office window, where, with a soft creak, the curtains parted to reveal a familiar face.
As the man who had been standing outside stepped into the room, Persephone gestured toward him with a faint smile.
“Demian, you’re fortunate.”
When Persephone turned to face him, the man standing there shared the same dark hair as the duke who had married his aunt. Among the royal family, he was the only cousin Persephone’s age.
Though the adopted son of Milena Dinias Dawes and Damian Balstein, few in the royal family regarded them as true cousins, given there was no blood relation. Even Lerbian, Persephone’s right hand, would scoff at the idea of calling them cousins.
“What do you mean by that?” Demian asked.
Persephone couldn’t help but be intrigued by Demian. Though not related to the Grand Duke by blood, his demeanor, and even his deep voice, bore an uncanny resemblance to his adoptive father’s. Had the grand duke not openly declared his infertility, Persephone might have suspected Demian to be an illegitimate son.
“If I annul the engagement in a year, you won’t have to restrain yourself anymore.”
“…”
“There’s quite a rumor among the noble ladies that Demian holds a special fondness for Lady April.”
“Are you serious?”
It was common knowledge among their peers that April Hill Ryze and Demian Balstein had been academy classmates and had maintained a close relationship.
In fact, the friendship among the three of them was rather natural—April was Persephone’s fiancée, and to her, Demian was simply her fiancé’s cousin. There was no reason for them not to get along.
But two years ago, this perception had been shattered.
When Demian returned from the North and met with April in the capital, things turned sour. April claimed that he had attempted to kiss her by force, under the guise of a confession.
Though uncertain, Demian neither confirmed nor denied the rumor, and so the story spread throughout high society—that Demian had been nursing an unrequited love for April for years.
“Of course, I’m only joking.”
Persephone laughed lightly at Demian’s darkening expression.
Lerbian looked between them, trying to gauge the mood. While Demian had no tolerance for jokes, Persephone was the type who could take even the most serious matter and playfully turn it into jest.
“It didn’t sound like a joke.”
Demian leaned back on the sofa.
Though he had no desire to encounter April, he couldn’t resist learning more about the conversation between her and Persephone. He’d never expected Persephone would ask for an annulment.
“…Are you truly going to break off the engagement with her?”
Persephone, who had been gazing downward, looked up at his hesitant question.
“Well…,” she murmured.
April Hill Ryze today was an enigma. For the past three years, she had felt utterly unlike the April who had once shared his childhood. But today, she was like the April he remembered.
The April he had once admired, once wanted as his sister, and now wished to call his own.
When she changed so suddenly, he didn’t know how to respond.
He wanted the April of the past, the one he had been unable to respond to when she asked, “Am I the equal of the daughter of the duke’s house?”
“To be honest,” Lerbian ventured carefully, watching both Persephone and Demian, “what she said was true.”
Both pairs of eyes in the room turned toward him. Lerbian took a sharp breath under Demian’s fierce gaze. Though Persephone claimed Demian wouldn’t treat a noble lady disrespectfully, at moments like this, it was easy to doubt.
“Announcing an annulment now would only play into Lord Rogian’s hands.”
“…”
“The only reason other noble houses refrain from proposing matches is the engagement with the duke’s house. If Your Highness were unengaged, it would be an entirely different matter.”
Though he disliked April, Lerbian knew that Persephone’s claim to the throne would be strengthened with the support of the duke’s household.
“Yes, I suppose.”
“…”
“She proposed a year’s delay for the annulment; there’s no harm in taking her at her word.”
Persephone pressed a hand to her temple, as if trying to quell a rising headache.
“Or is it that there is someone else on your mind, as she suggested?”
Demian’s bluntness made Persephone let out a faint, weary laugh.
“Yes, there is.”
“Who is it?”
“And if I told you, would you help me win them over?”
At this, Demian fell silent, lips pressed tightly together. He hesitated, feeling a familiar obligation to tell Persephone the truth.
April Hill Ryze’s fabricated story of his supposed confession was nothing more than a panicked lie, a last-ditch attempt to stave off his telling the truth.
“Today, the lady seemed… different.”
Was it because she was calm? Or perhaps because they’d briefly touched on childhood memories? Demian wanted to dismiss Lerbian’s musings.
Not different—but rather, “That’s how she used to be.”
Had he spoken aloud? His words echoed his own thoughts, as though someone had reached into his mind. They came from Demian, who was seated diagonally across from him.
The usual playfulness had vanished, leaving Persephone unexpectedly solemn.
Yes, the April they knew had always been like that.
Demian recalled the words he’d said to her two years ago.
“Who… are you?”
And he knew this April, Persephone’s fiancée, was not the April they knew.
Only Demian was aware of April’s secret.
The woman he had confronted then wore a forced smile, but when he demanded, “Who are you, and where is the real April?” he’d watched her mask crack.
For a moment, her expression had turned icy, the light in her eyes dimming as if he were staring at the dead brought back to life.
“Demian?”
Persephone’s voice jolted him from his reverie.
He looked up, burying the remnants of that haunting memory as he met Persephone’s gaze. Her golden eyes reflected a blend of concern for his silence and curiosity about his fraught relationship with April.
Turning to Lerbian, Persephone nodded toward the door. Understanding the gesture, Lerbian quietly slipped out and closed the door behind him as Persephone adjusted his posture.
“What caused this rift with Lady April?”
He was familiar with the rumors circulating in society, yet he couldn’t accept them.
Given Demian’s status as the adopted son of a grand duke, he surely understood the implications of being seen to treat the crown prince’s betrothed with anything less than propriety.
Even if Demian had acted inappropriately, Persephone doubted that alone would have led to the deep discomfort April seemed to harbor toward him.
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