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Chapter 58 

I did have a small trace of divine power—nowhere near Daniel’s level, but enough.

That alone made Rozian pause. For the first time during this tirade, she didn’t look furious. She looked… thoughtful.

Tamitarte watched her silently, praying. Please, just stop here. Don’t ask. Don’t dig deeper.

A knock interrupted them.

“Lady Rozian, there’s a visitor from the temple.”

“Send them in.”

The doors creaked open, revealing a knight in ornate armor—clearly from the temple.

Tamitarte braced himself. Normally, these knights served Rozian directly, not him.

The knight was tense, fighting to mask his excitement.

Then came the words that shattered Tamitarte’s hopes.

“We found traces, Lady Rozian.”

Her eyes lit up with madness.

“You found Daniel?”

“No… only traces. He appears to have died long ago.”

Rozian’s smile vanished.

Tamitarte’s heart pounded painfully.

Please, let this be the end. Let it go.

But then the knight added:

“He had a child.”

Rozian turned slowly. “A child?”

“Yes. A girl. We found unsent letters, old documents. Her name is… Irina Devin.”

Tamitarte—high priest of the temple—wanted, in that moment, to renounce God.

⸻

Meanwhile…

Lian reined in his horse just outside the mountain village.

Something felt off.

When he’d brought Irina here before, the village had been sleepy. Quiet.

Now, it felt like it had been overturned—like someone had stirred up a hornet’s nest and fled.

He spotted a familiar face: the baker who had served Irina before.

“Hey, I’ve got a few questions.”

“Master Lian?”

The baker looked startled, but not unfriendly. After all, the last time Lian came here, he had bought out the entire bakery.

“I’m looking for someone. But first… what’s going on in this village?”

The baker glanced around, then pulled him aside, out of earshot.

He knew exactly who Lian had come for—Alisha.

“You’re here for Alisha, aren’t you?”

Lian didn’t deny it. Just nodded.

The man sighed. “You won’t like what I have to say.”

Apparently, temple knights had come asking questions. About Daniel. About Irina. And about the beastkin who had lived with them—Alisha.

“They’re looking for Alisha, but they’ve also connected her to Irina.”

The words sank into Lian’s chest like ice.

They’re looking for Irina too?

And if they found out Irina had returned to the duchy, they would realize something far worse: that the real April had never come back.

“Where’s Alisha now?”

“She ran. Disappeared into the mountains before they could catch her.”

“And the knights?”

“Some are still guarding her house.”

Lian clenched his jaw.

That cabin held pieces of Irina’s past. If the temple found them…

He handed the baker a gemstone from his cloak.

“For your silence.”

“Of course, young master!”

He didn’t linger.

Lian mounted his horse and galloped away.

⸻

Maybe it’s better this way, he thought.

If Alisha had been caught, everything could have unraveled.

But now he had one mission: find her—before the temple did.

“Damn it,” he muttered, urging the horse faster.

Everything was spiraling.

⸻

Elsewhere…

“Rumors Dispelled?”

The gossip paper hit the floor with a loud thud.

Barak glared down at it. The headline showed April smiling beside both Perfoné and Damian.

He stormed into my room—no knocking, no manners.

I had just finished getting dressed and dropped into a chair, sighing.

“What is this?” he growled.

“An article,” I said flatly.

“You’re supposed to be lying low! Not staging public outings with the Crown Prince and his cousin.”

I sipped my tea. Calm. Collected.

“If I’m going to live as April, I have to act the part.”

“Don’t play games. Keep your head down.”

He snapped.

“I told you to be April—not to become her!”

The servants in the room froze, pretending not to hear.

Only Amber, my maid, looked visibly worried.

With a flick of my hand, I dismissed them all.

Barak was seething.

“You think the real April would appreciate this?”

“Actually,” I said with a smile, “I think she’d be pleased.”

He scoffed. “Perfoné hated her.”

“Not anymore.”

I held up the gossip paper.

“One article does more than a thousand tea parties. Everyone now thinks we’re back together.”

Barak ground his teeth.

“She’s going to be furious.”

“Let her be.”

I looked out the window.

Right now, Irina Devin had to disappear. But April Hill Rise needed to shine.

The more people believed the fairy tale, the harder it would be for the temple—or anyone—to uncover the truth.