Chapter 47

I couldn’t look away—I stared at Perfoné, stunned.

But his face was unreadable.

There was no confusion, no suspicion, no anger.

He didn’t look at me with the gentle eyes I remembered, nor with the warm smile that used to be mine.

He looked at me the way one looks at a stranger—or worse, someone utterly irrelevant.

“It just feels like someone else is pretending to be you.”

Those were words I never expected to hear from anyone outside the duke’s estate.

April had worked so hard to become me.

She mimicked everything—my speech, my smile, even my tone and mannerisms.

After she perfected the imitation, the duchy had cast me out.

If April had truly intended to deceive, no one would’ve noticed. But… he had?

Did he see through it?

My heart began to tremble like a tiny boat in a violent sea.

“What’s different about me?” I asked, trying to sound calm. But my voice shook at the edges.

Perfoné’s face, so perfectly sculpted, looked like a doll’s—expressionless and hollow.

“You already asked me that once,” he replied softly.

His calm tone settled my racing heart just a bit.

“I told you back then—everything.”

He ran a hand through his hair, looking tired.

“You asked. So don’t cry again. I don’t want to deal with that.”

So April had asked this before.

And he had told her the same thing: “Everything.”

Despite everything, someone still remembered me.

Someone still knew the difference.

I never expected to feel this—this ache—in the one year I spent impersonating April.

But now it hit me full force.

Perfoné sighed and resumed walking.

“Maybe April was right,” he said quietly. “Maybe I did inherit my father’s madness.”

What?

She told him that?

That vile—

To speak of the crown prince like that was enough to cost someone their head.

How could she? How dare she?

He once said he cared for her, and yet she threw that in his face?

He must’ve been devastated.

I wanted to apologize, but not because I felt guilty. I didn’t say it.

And if April returned, there was no telling what else she might say.

“I wasn’t in my right mind then. I’m sorry… Your Highness.”

“No need to apologize.”

He didn’t sound upset, which surprised me.

Sensing my confusion, a faint smile appeared on his lips.

“Thanks to that, I was sure you weren’t the April I knew.”

His path turned toward the duchy instead of the palace. I hesitated.

“Your Highness, shouldn’t you return to the palace?”

“It’s late. I’ll escort you back to the duchy.”

“…”

“I’m still your fiancé, after all.”

We walked in silence. Only the sound of our footsteps echoed through the quiet night.

Maybe I should tell him?

He’ll find out eventually—when the real April returns.

Wouldn’t it be better to say something now?

I glanced at him as he walked ahead. Just as the grand gates of the duchy came into view, I asked quietly:

“After the annulment… will you look for the April in your memories?”

“…”

“If so, people will say you’ve gone mad. Like your father. Rumors could spread across the entire empire.”

He stopped and corrected me.

“I’m not looking for the April in my memories, milady.”

“I’m looking for the real April.”

I froze—eyes wide.

Then, unexpectedly, I burst into soft laughter.

Not a laugh of mockery, but one of relief. Joy.

I had lived my whole life as a substitute. But in his eyes… I was real.

Only to him.

“Then do your best to find her,” I said.

Part of me wanted to confess everything right there.

But I swallowed the urge. It wasn’t time yet. Soon.

The night began to lift. Light crept in, slowly outlining his stunned expression.

“I can walk the rest of the way. You should return to the palace.”

“…”

“Before Sir Lervian finds out.”

I winked and turned to leave.

But before I could take a step, something cold wrapped around my wrist.

His hand.

Larger than before. Rougher.

I looked up.

Tonight, I had seen many sides of Perfoné—his emotionless mask, his faint smile, his surprise.

But this expression was new: somewhere between anger… and desperation.

“Your Highness?” I asked, concerned.

He didn’t answer.

His golden eyes darkened.

“Please don’t smile like that,” he said suddenly.

“What?”

I blinked in confusion, touching my cheek.

Was my smile… strange?

He clenched his jaw.

That familiar rage returned—but not the same as before.

This wasn’t just about April impersonating me.

This was something deeper. Sadder.

“Your Highness?”

He didn’t speak.

I stepped closer.

Normally, he would’ve flinched or turned away—but tonight, he let me touch him.

I reached up, gently brushing his hair from his forehead.

“What’s wrong? Are you feeling unwell?”

It was a familiar gesture, soft and warm.

Just like the old days—when titles didn’t matter and we were just children.

His eyes widened.

Then, suddenly, he pulled away—almost violently—and fled into the dawn.