The Weight of Truth
The news arrived like a storm on the horizon.
Alexandro Addis had come.
While she was bedridden with a cold, Canna had heard that reinforcements would arrive to help deal with the Black Fog. She had heard it, yes.
But she never imagined her father would be the one to show up.
Then again, perhaps it was inevitable. She had said ordinary knights would be useless. That meant they needed someone extraordinary—someone who possessed holy power.
Alexandro entered the room without so much as acknowledging the greeting. He immediately called Kallen aside, and the two of them began what appeared to be an extremely grave conversation.
What are they talking about? What is it?
She couldn’t hear a single word. Was something wrong with her ears? Surely they weren’t communicating solely through lip movements?
“……Hah.”
Unfortunately, the only thing Canna caught was the sigh Kallen let out at the very end of their discussion.
Oh, they’re finished.
Her father turned on his heel. He began walking toward the door with heavy, deliberate steps. Inside, Canna cheered.
Safe travels, Father. Let’s do our best to avoid each other until the divorce proceedings in the capital are finalized.
The moment that thought crossed her mind, he pivoted.
Alexandro’s dry gaze pierced straight through her.
Huh?
Canna froze in confusion. Had she accidentally spoken her thoughts aloud?
“Canna Addis.”
She glanced around the room, then rose from her seat feeling like a complete fool.
Alexandro spoke without a flicker of expression.
“Follow me.”
“……”
Oh, dear god.
I don’t want to go…
She would rather descend into hell itself. Letting out a quiet sigh, Canna trailed after her father.
Alexandro headed straight for the bedroom assigned to him. He settled onto the sofa and pointed at the seat across from him.
I suppose that means sit. Probably.
Canna obediently followed his silent command.
“……”
He had summoned her, yet he said nothing.
It was such a perfectly characteristic display of her father’s behavior that Canna simply waited in silence.
Should I strike first…?
Yes. Since she had been given this rare opportunity to speak with him, it might be best to settle her business quickly.
Come to think of it, Sylvien is also on his way to this island. Maybe I should start laying the groundwork for the divorce? He’ll handle the proceedings himself, but still…
No. Canna decided against it. Then, just as quickly, her thoughts shifted again.
He just called me Canna Addis.
He had done so once before, but she had assumed it was a slip of the tongue. The fact that he had addressed her that way again made it clear this was intentional.
Could this be an implicit sign that he’ll approve the divorce…?
At that moment—
“Canna.”
Her shoulders twitched violently.
She fought against the suffocating pressure in her chest and slowly lifted her head.
“Canna Addis, I have something to ask you.”
Her father was staring at her with unnerving intensity.
The gaze was so openly, almost obscenely observant that Canna found herself nervously stroking her fingertips as if trying to claw at them. Her tongue felt scorched with anxiety.
“Lately, I’ve been hearing stories about you.”
“What… stories?”
“About your medical techniques.”
Alexandro continued in a slow, measured tone.
“Where did you learn them?”
Thud.
It felt as though her heart had plummeted to the soles of her feet.
“Those healing arts of yours.”
His eyes seemed to dissect her, layer by layer.
“They do not belong to this land.”
As if he could see straight into her soul.
“Where did you learn them?”
Canna held her breath.
There was no suspicion in Alexandro’s eyes. Only certainty.
They do not belong to this land?
That was true. They did not belong to this world.
Because Korean medicine was knowledge she had acquired in Korea.
But there’s no way Father could know that.
Therefore, he must have simply meant that her methods were not from the Western Continent. The moment she reached that conclusion, the tension in her shoulders eased slightly.
Canna answered with a relaxed smile.
“You already know how deeply I immersed myself in alchemy. While reading various texts during that time, I came across the knowledge.”
“Texts?”
“Yes.”
And she had no idea where those books were now.
She had taken them with her when she married into the Valentino family, but they appeared to have been lost by mistake. The maids had always handled her belongings so carelessly—she had been prepared to say exactly that.
“……”
Yet Alexandro asked no further questions. He simply closed his mouth and stared at her in silence.
The prolonged quiet made her mouth go dry.
In the end, Canna changed the subject first.
“There is something I wish to tell you.”
“……”
“I have reached an agreement with His Grace, Duke Sylvien Valentino, regarding our divorce.”
His expression remained utterly impassive. She had expected as much. He wouldn’t be surprised. He had never shown that level of interest in her.
“His Grace the Duke will soon proceed with the formalities. I would be grateful if you would grant your approval, Father.”
“Divorce.”
He murmured the word under his breath.
“If you divorce…”
“Yes?”
“If you divorce, then what about you?”
“……”
The sentence carried a great deal of unspoken meaning.
Yet Canna understood it perfectly. Where will you go after the divorce? That was the true question.
She had no intention of answering honestly. The last time she had spoken of her plans to live happily, he had crushed every last one of them.
So she answered in the opposite direction.
“I intend to remain quietly within the Addis family until you decide how I should be treated.”
“Is that so?”
“Yes.”
“Very well.”
The immediate response left Canna speechless. She was suspicious. Very well? What exactly was very well?
“I will permit the divorce.”
For a split second, she nearly let out a cheer.
But she clenched her teeth and kept her expression neutral. If she showed joy, he might still revoke it.
“Thank you.”
Alexandro did not reply. Instead, he leaned back comfortably against the sofa and lifted his glass of whiskey. He took a sip as if quenching a deep thirst.
The sight was strangely unsettling.
He looked like a leopard basking in sunlight, Canna thought. She had never seen her father appear so satisfied.
While she was still dazedly observing him—
Should I ask?
A sudden impulse surged through her.
The forged letter.
If she was going to ask, there would never be a better moment than now. The conviction struck her like a premonition. Canna hesitated for a brief moment.
But her indecision did not last long.
“There is something I would like to ask.”
“What is it?”
“Do you happen to remember Physician Izek?”
“I do.”
“The letter he held as evidence…”
“The one you wrote?”
Canna fell silent.
Clink. The sound of ice rolling inside the empty glass echoed softly.
“Are you referring to the letter you wrote—the one I altered?”
He spoke with perfect composure as he refilled his glass with whiskey. Stunned into silence, Canna watched the smooth motion without a word.
So it really was Father.
It was shocking, and yet somehow not shocking at all.
She had suspected it for some time.
When it came to forging Prince Cassil’s letter, only her father possessed both the skill and the opportunity. After all, he had been the last person to handle the document. He was not the type to let crucial evidence slip into someone else’s hands so easily.
Even so, hearing the truth directly left her utterly bewildered. She could not begin to guess his motive.
“Why did you do it?”
Alexandro took another sip of whiskey before quietly answering her question with one of his own.
“Does the reason matter at this point?”
The moment she heard that dry response, an endless wave of unease washed over Canna.
Her father would never do something like that without purpose.
And he would certainly never confess so readily.
There had to be an ulterior motive.
“Yes. I want to know.”
“If you wish to obtain what you desire from me,”
He paused deliberately.
It was only a pause, yet the words that would follow terrified her.
“Then you must give me what I desire, Canna.”
Canna.
The way he spoke her name—soothingly, as if stroking an ear or comforting a child—filled her with a profound sense of wrongness.
“That is a transaction. Something you are very good at.”
He leaned forward.
His face—far too young, almost ethereally beautiful with the freshness of youth—studied her closely.
“Do you truly not know what I want?”
Canna swallowed. Her throat burned.
The oppressive weight he exuded, the suffocating pressure, made her want to confess everything.
But she did not.
“I told you I saw it in a book.”
At that moment, the heat in his eyes receded like a tide pulling back.
“As you know, Father, I have lived in near seclusion within the Valentino family. I had virtually no contact with outsiders. For someone like me, books were the only means by which I could learn anything.”
Alexandro stared at her with an expression that had gone cold. Tap. Tap. The only sound was his fingertip drumming against the armrest.
Then, at last, his lips parted.
“—.”
He whispered something.
The instant the low voice reached her ears, Canna’s mind went completely blank.
Just now.
What had her father just said?
“Your Grace the Duke, are you there?”
A voice called from outside the door.
“His Grace Duke Valentino has arrived.”
“I’ll be there shortly.”
Alexandro Addis rose from his seat. Without another word, he brushed past her.
Click.
The moment the door closed, Canna collapsed forward, burying her face in both hands. Her thoughts were a tangled mess.
What was that?
What on earth had that been?
Was it my imagination? Did I mishear?
No. She couldn’t have misheard.
What had he said?
Yes. It was unmistakable.
"Lies."
He had spoken it in Korean.