Chapter 8

“What you must uphold remains the same.”

Without any added threats, Damian picked up his fountain pen again.

“Whether you’re engaged, married, or divorced, what I want stays the same, and the conditions for your head rolling remain unchanged.”

“But if I get married and my identity is exposed, in Allnight—”

“You said I did not need to coddle you, didn’t you?”

Mel fell silent, her brows knitting together in frustration.

“Just fulfill your duties and live as things come. The result will be the same either way.”

“…”

“Now leave.”

Without so much as looking at her, Damian gestured toward the door.

Mel hesitated and bowed slightly before forcing her legs to move and leaving the study. Her strength gave out as soon as she stepped outside, and she leaned against the closed door.

Looking up, she saw nothing but silence inside.

The study’s superior soundproofing made this expected, but that quiet helped soothe her nerves.

“Just live…”

What an indifferent conclusion—yet, strangely, her heart felt lighter after hearing it.

Don’t think about anything; don’t try to change anything. Just live.

“That’s easy.”

After all, it was what she did best.

Mel decided to stop thinking. She metaphorically took a hammer and nails, fastening Damian’s words firmly into her mind.

She had never succeeded in anything she actively tried to do. She hadn’t even mastered the art of earning hatred. As always, someone else would decide the outcome.

Mel accepted the engagement.

***

What reason could she have to refuse the engagement?

Was it because she disliked the match? External pressure? Perhaps some trauma?

The unresolved questions felt suspicious.

And so, Gopher decided to investigate Bleria Heaven thoroughly.

“She’s erased her past cleanly.”

It wasn’t surprising. If he were in Heaven’s position, he’d do the same. Being known as someone who once lived as a commoner was a flaw—there was no benefit to disclosing more details.

What was surprising, however, was that the cleanup wasn’t entirely perfect.

“Why did they let you live?”

Gopher tilted his head, looking down at a kneeling man—Dewey Robe.

“Did they leave you as a temporary measure, planning to discard you later?”

The man’s scruffy beard, filthy clothes, and the odd stench—whether from oil or waste—made him reek of desperation. His darting eyes resembled a trapped rat.

“Ugh, uh…”

The pitiful, mute creature couldn’t even cry out properly.

“It’s fine. I wasn’t expecting an answer anyway. You can’t speak, after all.”

A gambler who had lost everything had poisoned Dewey’s food with a substance that silenced him. That was the story.

Dewey’s lover, Norma Rings, who had raised Bleria herself, was also murdered the same way. Only a fool wouldn’t realize it was the work of the Heavens.

Gopher’s decision to dig through the man’s connections had been driven by stubbornness and a hint of curiosity. Yet, unexpectedly, that persistence paid off—he found what Damian had missed.

“Well, good. I’ll make good use of your journal. Thanks.”

Gopher waved a small notebook in the air. Despite pretending to be illiterate, Dewey had kept meticulous records of his associates’ weaknesses.

Gopher looked down at the man’s ashen face and gave him a sly smile.

“And I’m sorry.”

As Gopher turned away, one of his subordinates moved toward Dewey. The unsettling sound that followed had become all too familiar to him.

Leaving death in his wake, Gopher walked on calmly. His knight, Merion, followed and asked, “Did you find out why the Lady Heaven refused the engagement?”

“Didn’t I tell you not to talk like that in public?”

“Y-yes, My Lord. Then, what was in the journal?”

“That’s for me to know.”

Gopher laughed as Merion’s eyebrows drooped in disappointment.

“Sir Merion, do you think I’m lucky or unlucky?”

“Must we go over this again?”

Merion’s eyebrows rose back into a pointed arc.

“You’d have become heir even without the fire. Everyone in Allnight knows that. The only reason the Duchess is harsh with you is so you won’t end up like—”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“Pardon?”

“Never mind. Thanks anyway.”

In any case, this wasn’t the time for old tales.

Not when he had just uncovered his fiancée’s secret.

‘What should I do now?’

Ideas swirled in his mind. There was no need to rush. Time was on his side.

“It’s been three weeks since I last visited Heaven, hasn’t it?”

“Yes, I believe so.”

“It’s about time I paid another visit.”

Gopher tucked the journal into his coat and smiled.

****

“Lord Gopher has arrived,” the butler announced.

At those words, Mel shot to her feet.

It had been three weeks since his last visit. He had claimed to be busy, but their previous parting had left her unconvinced.

Negative thoughts had plagued her since.

Was he angry because she kept refusing the engagement? Had he changed his mind? What would she do if he proposed breaking it off?

Today, she would finally get an answer.

Stopping in front of the drawing-room door, Mel steadied her breathing.

“I should apologize first…”

Her hand hovered over the doorknob but didn’t turn it. Her grip faltered, and her body felt heavy. An inexplicable sense of dread crawled down her spine.

“That day when Norma sent me on an errand… I felt just like this.”

The butler gave Mel a strange look.

“My lady?”

Lost in thought, she didn’t react to the soft call. Then suddenly, the door swung open. Mel, who had her hand on the knob, was caught off guard and pulled forward.

She stumbled and collided with something solid, stopping abruptly. Amid the bewildering moment, a crisp scent stood out clearly.

“I didn’t expect such a warm welcome from you.”

“Oh.”

‘That’s Gopher’s scent.’

Realizing what had just happened, Mel stepped back quickly. Her face burned so much that she could guess how flushed she looked without a mirror.

Gopher, as usual, smiled down at her, unfazed by her reaction.

“Shall we go in?”

The two sat across from each other at the table, an awkward tension hanging in the air. Strictly speaking, the awkwardness was entirely on Mel’s side.

The uneasiness that had been gnawing at her earlier dissipated, but her face remained hot. Trying to act nonchalant, Mel reached for her teacup only to notice the bouquet on the table.

“This is…”

A soft chuckle reached her ears. It seemed to say, ‘You’re only noticing that now?’ But she didn’t dwell on it.

The tiny, clustered flowers resembled snowflakes, capturing her attention. They were her favorite flowers.

“Are these for me?”

“They’re a gift for Lady Bleria.”

“…Thank you.”

Mel placed a hand over her fluttering heart. ‘So Gopher still intends to go through with our engagement.’

Exhaling a long breath, her shoulders relaxed.

“To be honest, I couldn’t understand you before.”

“Pardon…?”

“You’re so transparent, yet your words always say something else. I’m not the type to leave a puzzle unsolved, so I kept thinking about you, trying to figure it out.”

“About that, Lord Gopher, I have something to say—”

“And now, I think I finally understand.”

Strangely, her spine tingled at his words. Gopher was still smiling, the same gentle smile that revealed nothing of his thoughts.

Yet, something about his face made her feel suffocated. It reminded her of the acrid, cheap smoke that clung to the skin in Norma’s poetry.

Then, in the sweetest voice Mel had ever heard, Gopher spoke her name.

“Bleria.”

“…Yes?”

“You shouldn’t respond to that.”

Wait. Was that truly meant for her?

“You shouldn’t answer. You’re not really Bleria Heaven.”

His voice was low, his tone languid. As always, Gopher’s words cut reality sharply.

Mel froze, her eyes locked with his. The corners of her mouth tugged downward.

Holding her breath, her gaze darted around the room. It landed on Gopher’s gift—she honestly noticed it this time.

Baby’s breath, flowers of mourning. Mourning for whom?

A large hand cupped her cheek, tilting her face upward.

“I told you not to look away.”

Ah. Ahhh.

Reality crashed down on her with brutal clarity. In a panic, Mel shoved Gopher away with the bouquet and shot to her feet.

What should she do? What could she do? Words wouldn’t come out. Why? Her throat was dry. That was it—her throat was parched.

Driven by desperate thirst, she fumbled on the table. Beside the disheveled bouquet, a half-spilled teacup sat.

Gripping it with both hands, she drank the steaming tea as if punishing herself. Her mouth and throat burned, turning red-hot, and finally, she could speak.

“I… I don’t understand what you mean. Are you saying Heaven brought me here by mistake?”

Stay calm.

No one could prove she wasn’t the real Bleria. No one. Who was it that said so? Damian—yes, Damian. He even said they killed Norma and erased all traces of the past.

If she just denied it and didn’t admit anything, surely…

“I don’t know. I have no memories, so how could I know if I’m Bleria? Why don’t you ask Heaven instead? Go to them, not me!”

Suddenly, Gopher’s earlier words flashed through her mind. Don’t look away, he had said.

Desperate to assert her innocence, Mel sought his gaze. But her eyes kept slipping—falling to his cheeks, chin, and jaw. She couldn’t meet his eyes for long.

Because he was a noble. Because his gaze, as a noble, looked at her as a fraud and a commoner. No matter how she tried to dress it up, she wasn’t Bleria Heaven; she was just Mel Slopey.

“How pitiful.”

A scornful laugh tore through the air like a blade.