Chapter 46

“The red gemstones in this bracelet—they’re Sidhevan’s eyes.”

A collective gasp escaped the room.

Sidhevans, often called the “mermaids of the sea,” had crimson eyes so rare that just one was worth a high noble’s entire yearly budget. This bracelet held several.

Terran, the guild master, glanced from the dazzling bracelet to the young man in front of him—who couldn’t have been older than his early twenties.

“Are you taking the job or not? If not, I’ll find someone else,” Perfoné said bluntly.

Terran, who would sell his soul for the right amount of gold, beamed.

“Of course, sir. Just tell me exactly what you’re looking for, and I’ll get the information.”

Even if it turned out to be a wild goose chase like two years ago, this fee was more than enough to make it worth the risk.

Perfoné exhaled and finally said, “I want everything on April Hill Rise—from the moment the real lady returned to the duchy, until now.”

“Everything?” Terran balked. “That’s a decade of information!”

Perfoné gave a bright smile. “Then the Sidhevan eyes should be worth it.”

“She’s what—twenty-three now? You young nobles are too much.”

“So, are you refusing?”

“…No. I’ll do it.”

“You’ll have one year. Bring me everything about her. Especially…”

“Especially?” Terran echoed.

“From three years ago to the present.”

It had started even earlier—about five years ago, he’d noticed April seemed… off. Her mannerisms, voice, the way she addressed him—it all matched the April he knew, and yet she wasn’t his April.

He wanted gossip, records, anything—because the woman he was betrothed to wasn’t the one he had fallen for.

He left the backroom as Terran nodded, the bracelet now in the guild master’s possession. The front of the guild—disguised as a bar—was already alive with the rowdy energy of early dawn: the stench of strong liquor, laughter, and murmured deals.

As he stepped out, his mind wandered back to the last three years—years filled with doubt. Had he gone mad, like April always claimed?

“What do you even think is different, Your Highness?”

He recalled the day he first asked to break the engagement. She had cried and begged him not to go. What had he told her then?

“Epi…”

He lowered his head slightly as he walked.

“…It’s your entire self.”

That’s what he had said.

She had cried then. He thought he’d weep alongside her one day—but instead, he’d felt nothing. Even as she looked at him with a face full of pain and betrayal and called his name.

“Perfoné-nim?”

That voice—it shouldn’t be here, not at this hour, not in this place.

He turned.

It was her—April.

Later…

When they reached the capital, just shy of the duchy gates, Tamitarte offered to escort her all the way. Irina refused quietly.

If Rozian was using the temple to brew anti-aging elixirs and had eyes everywhere, then Tamitarte—being one of the few people with power—was surely a target. Especially if Rozian suspected he had knowledge of Daniel’s abilities.

Staying close to the duke’s family—or worse, to the fiancée of the crown prince—would only draw attention.

“Humans can’t make an elixir to stop aging,” Irina murmured.

“But Daniel’s powers weren’t human,” Tamitarte had warned her.

“Watch out for Rozian. If she finds out you inherited Daniel’s gifts, she will come for you.”

Of course she would.

Rozian had unleashed a leopard to eliminate Perfoné. If she learned Irina shared Daniel’s divine powers, she’d try to use her too.

Irina reassured Tamitarte that she was under the duke’s protection—for at least a year. But what after that?

As she walked, she muttered to herself, “It’ll be fine… as long as I’m not discovered.”

“Epi.”

The name rode the breeze.

She froze.

Here? Now?

She turned, eyes wide. Only one person had ever called her that—long before she became April.

“Perfoné-nim?”

He stood in the shadows, wearing a robe. She approached cautiously.

“Epi…” he murmured. It had been a whisper to himself.

He raised his head slowly. His amber eyes—once dim—now gleamed gold in the moonlight.

Neither of them had expected to see the other here, at this hour.

“Why are you out in the streets, Perfoné-nim?” she asked softly.

“You’ve taken my line,” he said with a smirk, glancing around in disbelief.

This wasn’t the Perfoné she’d grown up with—the sweet, noble boy of the palace. This man was sharper, colder.

“Does the duke know you’re out here without protection?”

“Does Sir Lervian know you’re wandering alone?”

He fell silent at her swift retort and turned away.

What was he doing here, in this district—known for its taverns and, more importantly, its information guilds?

What would a crown prince need that he couldn’t order his men to retrieve?

Curious, she fell in step beside him.

“Looking into something secretly, are you?”

“…”

“You’ve grown up. You’re old enough now to have secrets.”

When they were children, he had followed her around like a shadow. Now, it was the opposite. She smiled softly.

He had changed. So much.

She wanted to ask—who do you like now? What happened between you and the real April? And what do you know about Rozian and the temple?

But instead, she asked the one question that burned the most.

“Did you break off our engagement because you fell for someone else?”

“You never believe what I say, do you?”

“If there’s another reason, I want to hear it—honestly.”

“You cried so much. And now you want to hear it again?”

“What?”

He looked at her with something between pity and… unease. His golden eyes darkened.

There was more to this breakup than she realized.

When she hesitated, he continued.

“You’re not the same person I used to know.”

The words struck like a blow.