Chapter 56 

The carriage rattled forward.

Neither of us spoke.

The silence hung heavy—until Damian broke it.

“So?” he asked, his red eyes fixed coldly on me. “Where’s the real April?”

“The real April…” I repeated softly.

To everyone in the Rise Duchy, I was the fake. Yet to Damian, I was real.

Just like Perfoné—he could tell us apart.

“You say I’m the real April, but…”

I was never the true daughter of House Rise. Just a stand-in. A shadow.

“What if the girl you’re looking for is actually the fake one?”

He didn’t respond.

“Would you still call her ‘real’? Even if you’re the only one who believes it?”

I smiled, bitterly this time.

If the girl he missed turned out to be false too—what then?

Maybe she hid herself because she knew the truth. Just like I would, when all this ended.

I wasn’t the daughter of House Rise.

I never wanted to be.

Damian’s expression tightened.

“What a load of nonsense.”

With perfect timing, the carriage arrived in front of House Valstein.

He flung the door open.

“Whether she’s a blood relative of House Rise or not—it doesn’t matter to me.”

I opened my mouth to ask, Then why do you call her the real one?

But he beat me to it.

“She’s real because she’s the one who spent time with me.”

It was a clear, absolute truth. For Damian, that was enough.

He never even knew her real name. That’s why he called her “the real April.”

If he had known, he would’ve searched for her directly. Abandoning the imposter entirely.

“I see,” I murmured.

So I’m the real one…

He expected some emotional outburst. But I said it calmly.

This new demeanor of mine threw him off. It wasn’t the April he remembered.

But somehow, it was closer to her than anything he’d seen in the last three years.

A strange thought crossed his mind.

Is this really her…?

“Thanks for the talk, Lord Valstein.”

I pulled the door closed, but he caught a glimpse of something that stopped him.

A smile.

I was smiling.

⸻

Elsewhere, in the village near the mountains…

“You’ve been bringing back fewer wild animals these days.”

Alisha dropped a massive boar on the leather shop counter with a thud.

“She’s not coming back, huh?”

They were talking about Irina. It had been a long time since anyone had seen her in the village.

“She lives alone now,” Alisha said.

She didn’t need to hunt as much. Back when she lived with Daniel and Irina, there were mouths to feed. Now, just herself.

Besides, Irina had been sending her money regularly from the capital.

Alisha never used it. She was saving it for when Irina would eventually flee beyond the Daus Empire’s borders.

Irina had accepted her—a beastkin with no blood ties—as family. And Alisha thought of her as a sister, too.

“So she got a job in the capital? Good for her!”

The leather shop owner clapped with joy, completely unaware of the deeper truths.

To him, it sounded like a happy ending. She returned to “that” noble house—an impressive promotion, on paper.

Just then, a knock echoed.

Knock, knock.

Two unfamiliar men stood at the door.

“Can I help you?” the shopkeeper asked.

They looked far too clean and refined for locals. Definitely from the capital.

Alisha quietly gathered the coin pouch behind the counter.

“We’re looking for someone,” one of them said.

Alisha froze.

Who were they?

“Do you know someone named Daniel in this village?”

Her breath caught.

No one should know that name.

And yet…

She suddenly understood. They were from the temple.

“I’m from the temple,” the man confirmed, showing his identification.

The shopkeeper immediately bowed, flustered.

“There are tons of Daniels here—kids, teens… common name, really.”

It was true. But they weren’t looking for just any Daniel.

“We’re searching for a man with silver hair and blue eyes,” the second man added.

Alisha’s heart pounded.

That was him. Daniel.

She tried to stay calm. If she stayed silent, maybe they’d give up.

“Perhaps he went by the surname ‘Devin.’ Anyone in the village with that name?”

Alisha bit her lip hard.

Her gaze shot to the shopkeeper, pleading with her eyes:

Don’t say anything. Don’t mention Irina. Please…

But he, oblivious, answered cheerfully:

“There was a girl named Irina. She used to live here.”

No…!

Alisha clenched her fists.

“Where is she now?” the man asked.

“She used to live with Alisha. Went to the capital,” the shopkeeper replied casually, glancing at her.

“She’s in the capital, huh?”

“Well, you’ll have to ask her yourself.”

“We intend to.”

His voice turned sharp.

“Guide us.”

Alisha bit down on her lip again and nodded.

“…Follow me.”