Who Are You?
Late at night, instead of sleeping, Canna sat at her desk. She wrote the information down on a sheet of paper.
1. My father’s ‘secret room’ is a room that belonged to a woman.
2. Two women’s portraits hang inside the ‘secret room.’ One is my biological mother. The other is Juhwa’s mother.
3. What is the connection between my biological mother and Juhwa’s mother? The fact that their portraits are displayed together suggests they were linked in some way. (Friends, perhaps? I’m not sure.)
4. Father appears to hate both Juhwa’s mother and my biological mother.
5. My biological mother is alive somewhere. Where could she be?
6. Since Juhwa’s mother returned to Korea, there must be a method of dimensional travel.
7. Juhwa—Seon-hui’s biological daughter—and I possessed each other’s bodies.
Could all of this truly be coincidence?
Canna rummaged in her pocket and pulled out a sheet of paper. It was the letter she had secretly stolen from her father’s room.
The Korean characters had faded to a faint blur. She had no idea how long it would take, but she would restore every letter no matter what.
I need to dig deeper into this.
Once her turbulent emotions had settled, reason returned.
She had to investigate this matter more thoroughly.
For now, her plan was to learn everything she could about Alexandro Addis—her father.
If she combed through his life in meticulous detail, both Juhwa’s mother and her own would surely be entangled somewhere in the threads.
Alexandro Addis.
Father, who exactly are you?
The next day, the maid Eriel delivered another success. She had finally made contact with the information guild.
“Tell them to choose the meeting place themselves. Anywhere crowded and noisy is fine.”
Since she wanted this matter kept secret, she had no intention of bringing Claude along.
She would carry self-defense tools, but to guard against any unforeseen danger, she planned to meet in a place packed with people.
The more people, the safer. The noisier it is, the easier it is to have a private conversation.
It was perfect. She had wanted to entrust the investigation into her father as quickly as possible anyway.
She also needed to prepare a convincing fake identity without delay.
I don’t know how Father will react later. I need an escape route ready in case something unexpected happens.
A sloppy runaway was doomed to fail. That was a lesson she had learned from bitter childhood experience.
Yes, I tried running away when I was fourteen and failed.
An old memory rose unbidden.
Fourteen years old. Before her suicide attempt, Canna had tried to escape the Addis mansion.
For a girl that age, her plan had been reasonably meticulous.
She had slipped out of the mansion several times, moving like an eel, scouting locations and methods of departure…
But she had failed.
Someone who recognized her had forcibly dragged her back home.
“Running away from home? You’re disgracing the entire family. You are a stain on the Addis name, Canna.”
The way Chloe had glared at her upon her return still haunted her.
That look—as if she were staring at something filthy and repulsive—had never faded from memory.
“Count yourself lucky that His Grace the Duke is not at home. If he learned of this, you would not have lived to see another day.”
As punishment, Chloe had locked her inside a closet.
Canna had wept and begged for forgiveness, but Chloe showed no mercy.
The moment she was roughly shoved into the closet, her eyes had met Kallen’s.
“H-help me…”
She had pleaded without thinking.
She knew it was pointless, yet the desperation had been too overwhelming to stop herself.
But just as she expected, Kallen simply watched in silence.
He only watched.
Soon he lowered his gaze and returned to his book. The soft flip of a page.
The motion had been so elegantly indifferent…
She remained trapped in that closet for two full days before she was finally released.
“His Grace the Duke will return in one week. Make sure you eat something before then. If he sees you looking like a pathetic, scrawny commoner, he’ll throw you out.”
Listening to Chloe’s scolding, Canna had staggered down to the underground laboratory. There she began concocting a drug that would stop her heart.
Because she had wanted to die.
That, too, had ended in failure.
A bitter smile escaped her as the memories resurfaced.
That was the hardest time.
The time when she had dreamed of escape, wandered the outside world for the first time, only to have her wings broken and be dragged back.
But she was no longer the same person she had been then.
If a moment comes when I truly must run, I will do it properly. I won’t be sloppy like before.
So she had to prepare.
A few days later, the day of the meeting arrived.
The location was a masquerade hall—a secret social gathering for nobles. It was the perfect place to meet without being seen.
Canna wore a brown wig and a butterfly mask adorned with platinum. The guild member she was to meet would be wearing an identical mask, she had been told.
So this is what it looks like.
The moment she stepped inside the masquerade hall, the thick haze of smoke made Canna wrinkle her nose.
Ugh. The smell of tobacco.
Masked men and women laughed loudly, danced, drank, touched one another, and even used drugs openly.
The noblemen’s behavior was nothing like their conduct at formal banquets. They clung to people like dogs in heat; it was downright repulsive.
Canna kept shaking off hands that grabbed her arm as she walked.
Where on earth is the informant?
Just as irritation began to rise, someone seized her wrist and yanked her forward. Dragged helplessly along, Canna’s face slammed into the man’s solid chest.
What kind of rude—!
Deciding she would slap him, she lifted her head.
“Ah.”
A man wearing the exact same mask was looking down at her.
The man who must be the informant. Surprisingly, he was strikingly handsome. His platinum hair was swept back neatly, and the jawline visible beneath the mask was exquisitely refined.
…Yet the face seemed somehow familiar.
“Sorry for pulling you. You were about to walk right past me, so I had no choice. Can’t exactly shout your name in a place like this, can I?”
A chill raced down her spine. That voice—!
“Have you been well?”
Prince Argon?
Canna blinked. It was not a mistake. She was not seeing things.
The man before her was Prince Argon.
“Why is Your Highness here?”
Argon lowered his head. The tip of his straight nose lightly tapped her mask.
At the sudden closeness, Canna stopped breathing. Argon smiled like a mischievous boy.
“People wearing the same mask. That’s the token, isn’t it?”
Then… the informant was truly Argon?
Did that even make sense?
He was a prince.
“Your Highness, this… this is absurd.”
“Why is it absurd?”
“……”
Was that even a real question? The inquiry was so bewildering that she could not find a single word to answer.
What is this? Is he joking? Did Eriel trick me? Or…
Her head suddenly throbbed with pain. The first prince appearing as an information guild contact—what kind of ridiculous situation was this?
“Oh, this is one of my favorite dance pieces.”
Regardless of Canna’s confusion, Argon pulled her onto the stage. He grabbed her shoulders with excitement and began to dance.
Why am I dancing with the prince here of all places…
Canna swallowed the scream rising in her throat and spoke calmly.
“Your Highness, I came here to meet an informant.”
“I told you. That’s me.”
Argon winked.
“Didn’t you know I own the information guild?”
“…No.”
“Of course not. It’s a secret, after all.”
……
Was he joking right now?
His habit of wandering outside the palace is well-known, so I already knew that much.
She had heard that Prince Argon had no interest in the throne and spent almost no time inside the imperial palace. But she had never imagined he was living such a double life.
The first prince of the empire, no less!
“I apologize, Your Highness. This happened because of my ignorance.”
She had to clean this up somehow. She had not the slightest desire to become entangled with this mad prince.
“If I had known it was Your Highness’s guild, I would never have arranged this meeting. How could I possibly dare to burden Your Highness with—”
“It’s fine. I manage nearly all the information guilds in the empire anyway.”
For a moment Canna’s tongue went stiff. No way. It couldn’t be. It had to be a joke. Or a bluff.
“It’s neither a joke nor a bluff. If you don’t believe me, try another guild. They’ll all lead back to me eventually.”
It was like a bolt from the blue. If those words were true, it meant that no matter where she placed a request, the information would eventually reach Argon’s ears.
“But I don’t personally manage that many nobles. You’re one of them, Canna. Congratulations.”
There was nothing—absolutely nothing—to congratulate her about. Her plans were shattering into pieces.
And why has he been using my name so casually since earlier!
Faced with an obstacle she had never anticipated, Canna screamed inwardly. At that moment, Argon glanced past her and spoke.
“By the way, Canna, are you aware that a knight is following you?”
“Pardon?”
“Your guard knight—Claude Azel.”
At those words, the back of her neck tightened. Claude had followed her?
“He keeps radiating an unpleasant aura. It feels like he’s looking for a fight. It’s irritating.”
But she had not told Claude she was going out, let alone asked him to accompany her. If he had followed anyway, that was no different from surveillance.
Why would Claude do such a thing?
It must have been an order from Kallen.
Otherwise, with no special instructions, he would not have tailed her.
So Kallen deceived me.
What had Kallen said when he assigned the guard knight? Take him only when she wanted, and otherwise forget he existed.
Yet he had ordered the man to follow her secretly even at other times—without a single word of warning.
This is surveillance, plain and simple.
Irritation bubbled up inside her, but now was not the time to voice her complaints.
“Your Highness, it was an honor to meet you. However, I cannot possibly request a task from you.”
“Why not?”
“As a noble loyal to the imperial family, how could I possibly ask Your Highness to handle such trivial work? Therefore…”
“You should think very carefully, Canna.”
Argon gently cut her off.
“Opportunities do not come every day. You must keep your mind sharp and seize them the moment they pass before your eyes.”
His voice was not merely confident—it was arrogant. As though his very existence were an enormous opportunity for her.
“I don’t hire just anyone. Naturally, I don’t move for money. I have more of that than I could ever spend.”
“…Then what does move you?”
“Information.”
Argon smiled, baring his teeth.
“I can’t stand not knowing what I’m curious about.”
“I’m sorry, but I don’t possess any information Your Highness would want.”
“You do.”
“Pardon?”
“I’m curious about you, Canna Valentino.”
The rhythm of the music slowed. As they moved slowly in a circle, Argon lowered his lips to her ear.
“You.”
The fine hairs on the right side of her neck stood up where his breath touched. The heavy scent of cologne brushed the tip of her nose.
“Who are you?”
“Pardon?”
“You’re not Sylvien’s wife, Canna Valentino.”