The Snow Queen

I ordered another cup of coffee. A belated question arose in my mind. What were those visions? The sound of walkers rushing toward me. And the god of death. The bullet piercing my chest. The joyful laughter that appeared in those gray eyes. Then Levitan’s smile overlapped with it.

Could the trauma I suffered at the hands of the robber be overlapping with Levitan? My head was in a mess. Whitebirch’s words kept brushing past my ears.

I shut my eyes tightly.

Levitan… It gave me chills. The Levitan recorded in history was the ‘lively and kind commoner-born queen.’ But

? Maybe Whitebirch’s death was something Levitan acted upon of her own accord. Wasn’t she the woman who waited 17 years to become queen?

Suddenly, I remembered Messara’s words about an emergency in Guiger. A bitter laugh escaped me. If my guess was right, the reincarnation of Levitan, Duke Vardi, didn’t have much time left.

I glanced out the coffee shop window. A shabby sorcerer, hunched in an old coat hood, was fiddling with a coffee cup. A strange impulse surged within me. Should I ask?

Outside the window, the festival parade was unfolding. Amusingly, I even spotted people dressed as Whitebirch and Daytanz. I chuckled as I sipped my coffee. It was a moment where I could deeply understand Pandora’s heart as she stood before the box.

But the opportunity is now or never.

Duke Vardi would soon be imprisoned. Today was the only chance to ask him directly about the mystery from 600 years ago. The witch’s party.

I looked at the clock in the coffee shop. It was 8 o’clock. I jumped up, paid the bill, and left the coffee shop. A Whitebirch tree stood in front of the shop. I reached out with my left hand and broke off a branch.

After walking for 25 minutes from Mazarin Station, a fir forest unfolded. Beyond that, the grand mansion of Duke Vardi loomed. Mazarin Castle. The station had been named after the castle of the Vardi family.

A crowd had gathered in front of the towering iron gates. Brawny bodyguards, coat inspectors checking the guests, ordinary visitors with tickets, and disguised sorcerers—all of them crowded the area. It took quite some time to reach the coat inspector.

The coat inspector scanned my outfit, frowning.

“I don’t recall seeing your face before… Where did you get this coat?”

“It’s a hand-me-down.”

“Don’t lie. I know all the famous sorcerers on 42nd Street. I’ve never seen a coat this old before.”

“You’re as talkative as the daughter of La Voisin. If you want to sell more myrrh, you should start by sewing up that mouth of yours. Your clients wouldn’t want their lovers to realize their emotions were manipulated by something as petty as a love potion, now would they?”

The coat inspector let me in without another word. I chuckled. She didn’t even realize I’d guessed wrong. She was clearly a woman with the makings of a fine witch. Her nails were very short, a characteristic of those who often make myrrh.

Before I knew it, the snow had stopped. Cutting swiftly through the dark clouds, the bright moon revealed itself. It was Diana, Ryeong’s guardian deity. The moonlight illuminated every corner of the garden, buried deep in snow.

A play was being performed on a lavish stage tucked in one corner of the garden. Fountains danced to the rhythm of the water. Fireworks shot into the sky, leaving trails behind. Dwarves and jesters spun around, dancing wildly. Mazarin Castle itself had become a forest of Bacchus.

Damn…

I walked slowly, feeling defeated. With so many people around, it would be nearly impossible to meet the duke. I considered entering the castle but gave up. It would be a waste of time. I decided to at least stuff myself with the food laid out and leave.

I sat at any random table and ate. I diligently, greedily ate as much as I could, thinking it was a way to get back at Duke Vardi by consuming his food.

“Hey, could you do a reading for me?”

I flinched at the voice from behind me. Turning around, I saw a young nobleman with black hair loitering nearby. A sorcerer was still a professional service provider, after all. I had been taught that honesty and sincerity were essential when dealing with clients.

“I’m sorry, but I’m a fraud.”

I spoke honestly and went back to my food.

“That can’t be true. People who wear a sorcerer’s coat belong to the top tier of sorcerers. Money is no issue. Just tell me.”

His persistence was strong. With no other choice, I adjusted my grip on the Whitebirch branch in my left hand.

“What would you like to know, sir?”

“Hmm… I want to see my future.”

Just as I thought. I stifled a bitter smile. Nobles who grab a sorcerer late at night to ask about their future are all the same… or so I thought, but then I reconsidered. His face looked familiar.

I remembered soon enough. He was Count Yuha Saxella, a distant relative of Lord Manen.

I straightened my posture and said,

“The future is known only to the gods. Sorcerers are simply counselors who listen to their clients’ concerns. Please, share what’s on your mind first.”

“About my career.”

Count Saxella spoke firmly. I slowly waved the Whitebirch branch.

“Your career… You’re asking about your fortune in public office. If you wish to have good fortune in your career, you must be like a skilled surfer riding the waves.”

“And?”

“I won’t tell you to buy a potion or perform a black mass like other sorcerers might. I will only point you in the right direction. The future is shaped by the present. If you want to change your future, come alone under that Whitebirch over there in ten minutes. I conduct my consultations in private. See you then.”

Ten minutes later, Count Saxella came to the Whitebirch tree. He seemed like someone with too much time on his hands.

“I’m not sure what made you come here.”

When I made a sarcastic remark, Count Saxella shrugged.

“Isn’t it about breaking even? I had a feeling you might be different from other sorcerers. So, what does wave riding mean?”

“What else could it mean? It means, Count, that unlike Pusher or Snake, you don’t have the energy or ability to control the waves. Only surfers, at best, can ride them. I believe you’ve already realized this.”

Count Saxella’s face twisted in anger but soon regained his composure, and he smiled softly.

“Interesting.”

Count Saxella rubbed his chin.

“You’re certainly not an ordinary sorcerer. Actually, I thought you were unusual from the moment you called yourself a quack. But you only mentioned Pusher and Snake, didn’t you? Why didn’t you bring up Duke Vardi? Even though he’s at a slight disadvantage right now, Duke Vardi is about to become the uncle of the king’s illegitimate son, isn’t he?”

“In the East, when electing a president, they often divine the candidates’ fortunes to see what destiny awaits them during their term. The ruler’s fortune is closely tied to the nation’s fate. According to astrology, Pusher is destined to enjoy prosperity for the next 20 years. Considering Snake’s track record of eliminating or destroying his political enemies, this prediction is quite significant.”

“Pusher? That timid person?”

Count Saxella had a doubtful expression.

“You underestimate Pusher. He’s a hidden dragon who has long kept his abilities concealed. He has no weaknesses, which makes it difficult for Snake to purge him. I foresee them ruling the kingdom together, alternating power over the next 20 years. To seize power in this country, you have to be extreme: either thoroughly soft like Pusher or ruthlessly cruel like Snake. But Duke Vardi is neither.”

“Well, Lord Manen was also quite gentle…”

Count Saxella muttered.

“I like you. How much do you want? And tell me your name. I’d like to consult with you again.”

“As I said earlier, I’m just a quack, so I can’t offer further consultations. But you’re a smart man, Count, so you should be able to navigate things with just this consultation. I won’t accept any money either. But, if you’re feeling generous, I do have one request.”

“A request?”

“I would like to meet Duke Vardi, personally.”

“Hmm.”

Count Saxella laughed.

“So, you’re a fan of Duke Vardi. Very well. I’ll see what I can do. For now, come into the castle with me. The Duke is attending a ball inside.”

“Thank you.”

I followed Count Saxella into the castle, my heart beating faster. I silently whispered to myself. Stay calm, Ray Arisa. You’re just a quack sorcerer here to solve the mysteries of history.

Just a quack sorcerer.

The castle’s grand front gates were wide open, revealing an interior filled with the peak of French-style decorations. The low entrance, the double staircase, and the salon created an elegant and beautiful sequence. Numerous paintings hung in the winding spaces where decorative panels met. Sorcerers, nobles, and common guests mingled and danced everywhere.

“Wait here. It’ll take some time to bring the Duke.”

Count Saxella pointed to a secluded spot in the salon. I sat down and said, “Thank you.” I felt suffocated. Was this how the Red Death mask invaded King Prospero’s ball? It was a space where pleasure and passion swirled, mixing with laughter.

Suddenly, I looked down at my left hand. It felt familiar. Just like the time I stood in front of court painter Sorel, holding a branch of Whitebirch while wearing a sapphire ring.

Sorel…

I thought of what happened at Hot Chili. The more I reflected on it, the more unsettling it became. I realized I had completely lost my mind back then. If Ilex hadn’t mentioned roses, I would have gone berserk. I would have cruelly skinned poor Tellini’s head with a knife, laughing hysterically.

And then, handcuffs clinking around my wrists. Imprisoned, with Messara weeping and screaming behind me…

So, stay calm, Ray Arisa.

Quite some time had passed, but Count Saxella had not returned. Even if the meeting with Duke Vardi didn’t happen, I couldn’t blame the Count. Perhaps it was better to fail. It was already 10 o’clock when I suddenly paused.

A familiar man and woman appeared in the distance. It was Mr. and Mrs. Sorel. From the looks of it, they must have reached an agreement with Tellini’s father since they were walking around freely. Mr. Sorel looked particularly pleased, dressed in an elegant tailcoat, happily dancing with his wife.

I smiled and sipped my coffee. What an amusing man…

As the Sorels spun around and drew closer, their dance ended. Applause rained down on them. I hesitated before standing up and approaching the Sorels.

“Excuse me, but do you remember me?”

“Hm? Who might you be?”

Mr. Sorel looked at me curiously. I slightly pulled back my hood to reveal my face. Mr. Sorel’s eyes brightened.

“Well, well. What a surprise. Where’s your boyfriend?”

“I came alone. But it’s quite amusing to run into you here.”

“Isn’t it? It seems we must’ve had some kind of fate from a past life. I thought you were just a secondhand bookstore owner, but now I see you’re also a sorcerer?”

Mr. Sorel said as he sat down. I mumbled, “Yes,” dodging the comment.

A connection from a past life, he said. He wasn’t wrong. After all, it was Sorel’s ancestor who painted the portrait of Whitebirch.

“Weren’t you an abolitionist of the monarchy, Mr. Sorel? So why are you at a noble’s party?”

“Ah, it’s nothing special. The Duke bought a painting from me and gave me a ticket to the party. Honestly, I didn’t want to come, but my wife is a huge fan of the Duke, so here I am, haha.”

“Oh… I see.”

“But that

branch—haha—are you carrying it because you’re a fan of Whitebirch?”

“No, it’s just one of my ritual tools.”

“Interesting. I’ve seen plenty of crystal balls and staffs, but you’re the first I’ve seen using a tree branch as a tool.”

Mr. Sorel tilted his head in curiosity.

“It’s not that unusual.”

I raised the Whitebirch branch to show him.

“When old witches made magical brooms, they mostly used Whitebirch. It’s a tree deeply rooted in shamanism. In Eastern shamanism, influenced by Altaic traditions, they often cut paper in the shape of Whitebirch leaves during rituals. Given that, the fall of

has a rather symbolic meaning too. I wonder what her parents were thinking when they named her that.”

“Hmm, that’s fascinating. But you’re only half right, Arisa.”

“Excuse me?”

“In the 16th century, Whitebirch also symbolized courtship and affection in the kingdom. People often proposed under Whitebirch trees.”

“Really?”

My eyes widened. This was news to me.

“It’s mentioned in the book

. It’s by an English woman, so it’s almost unknown in this kingdom. The book itself isn’t that interesting, but the fact that a woman wrote a travelogue in the 16th century, when even noblewomen were mostly illiterate, is remarkable.”

Mr. Sorel smiled warmly.

“Who knows, maybe even the king thought he was leaving that branch as a token of his affection for a dark-haired woman. He might have been grinning from ear to ear with excitement.”

“That’s true.”

I sipped my tea, hiding a smirk. Grinning from ear to ear?

? It seemed Mr. Sorel genuinely believed

had loved

deeply. Ridiculous. To him, the dark-haired woman was nothing more than a fleeting plaything. Even if he had come across the Whitebirch branch, he wouldn’t have cared. He probably would’ve scratched his head with it and tossed it aside.

It was already 10:30. While the subway was running 24/7 due to the strange weather, I didn’t want to waste any more time waiting for the Duke. I was debating whether I should just go home when Count Saxella approached.

“Hey, sorcerer. It seems it’s going to be difficult to arrange a meeting.”

“As expected.”

“There are just too many people. Even I couldn’t get close. But soon, he’ll be making his way over here to shake hands with everyone. You can at least see him up close.”

“I suppose that’s the best I can hope for. I’m grateful you even tried.”

I took another sip of tea. If I had known this would happen, I might’ve dressed better. Then I could have flaunted my success, shouting it with my whole body.

It was a childish thought. In fact, just coming here was a childish act in itself.

“But that hair of yours, Arisa. It must’ve taken quite some time to grow that long.”

Mr. Sorel’s comment snapped me back to attention.

“Ah, yes. I’ve rarely ever cut it.”

“Weren’t your parents upset? They probably didn’t like it being that long.”

“It didn’t matter. I’m an orphan. I was abandoned when I was seven.”

“Oh… I’m sorry. That was a thoughtless comment.”

Mr. Sorel scratched his head awkwardly. Count Saxella looked at me, puzzled.

“Wait, you’ve hardly ever cut it? So, how long is it exactly?”

“Haha, the Count will be surprised when he sees Arisa’s golden hair. It nearly touches the ground! She’s as beautiful as the maiden hidden under the filthy donkey skin. If only that ring were a ruby, it would’ve been perfect.”

Mrs. Sorel smiled warmly.

I bowed my head, embarrassed. If they only knew how badly I wanted to cut it all off up to my knees, they wouldn’t be saying such things.

“Golden hair that reaches the ground, huh… Why don’t you show it to the Duke? Maybe it’ll keep him in your presence a little longer.”

I silently drank my tea. I fully intended to show myself to him. I was planning to reveal myself clearly to him, the same man who once looked down at someone being crushed and dying like an insect, smiling all the while. I wanted him to see me, breathing healthily and living well.

I knew it was a pathetic act. But considering what had happened in the past, I felt I had every right to make this little display. Of course, it would mean nothing to the Duke.

At some point, the atmosphere around me grew louder. The Duke had arrived. Surrounded by a large crowd, he entered the salon. I straightened my back and stood.

Was that him?

He looked far less sleazy in person. A handsome man with brown hair, he was accompanied by a beautiful woman, his sister

. With her swan-like neck adorned with a sparkling diamond necklace and wearing an extravagant dress, the siblings were dazzling. They were a stark contrast to me, clad in my shabby donkey-hide coat.

I smiled bitterly. This is why I couldn’t believe in God…

People clamored to touch even the tip of the

siblings’ fingers. Even though the bodyguards tried to keep them at bay, the crowd was relentless. Amidst the chaos, the Duke remained composed, casually engaging with the nobles and leisurely smoking a cigar while shaking hands with fans.

I felt an indescribably strange feeling as I watched the scene unfold. It became clear how they had lived while Whitebirch was locked away in the cold tower. Just like now, they must have wrapped themselves in silk and jewels, laughing merrily. Was it that? That indulgence and pleasure—was that the reason for the brutal murder of a single person?

Duke Vardi approached. He shook hands with Mr. Sorel, exchanging pleasantries. They were discussing art. I pushed back the hood of my coat, letting my hair fall. Count Saxella seemed to stare at me with wide eyes, but I paid him no mind. My focus was entirely on Duke Vardi.

After releasing Mr. Sorel’s hand, Duke Vardi’s gaze landed on me. I met his eyes in silence.

It was an odd feeling—an inexplicably strange atmosphere. Was I imagining it? This sense of silence enveloping the surroundings?

Duke Vardi scanned me from head to toe, then smiled. Slowly inhaling his cigar, he narrowed his eyes and spoke.

“Haven’t we met a few times before?”

It seemed like an odd remark, but it wasn’t entirely wrong. I remained silent. His gaze briefly lingered on the Whitebirch branch in my hand.

“Ah… a Whitebirch branch. Of course.”

I chuckled.

“It must remind you of the death of someone you once watched over.”

“What?”

Duke Vardi frowned, confused. I chuckled again. A brief silence followed, and murmurs arose among the people. Irina, his sister, glared at me.

“What are you talking about? Death? Are you accusing my brother?”

Instead of answering, I stepped closer to Duke Vardi, my anger slowly rising.

Look at me… Look at me properly. I’m the one you laughed at as they died. Was it that funny? Watching someone bleed out from a hundred and fifty wounds, torn to shreds—did it amuse you that much?

They didn’t even have long to live anyway. Their feet were burned down to the bone, their knees practically melted from molten iron. They reeked worse than you, rolling on that cold stone floor, stinking of urine and feces. And yet you couldn’t even grant them the mercy of a quiet death at the end.

This was why Ray Arisa was so obsessed with torture devices for young girls. Was the hatred really that deep? Did Whitebirch’s existence anger you so much that even in death, you couldn’t grant her peace? Why? Why so much hatred? Where did it all come from?

I raised the Whitebirch branch. Leaning close to Duke Vardi’s ear, I whispered.

“At that time, you stood from afar and watched as someone died, bleeding from over a hundred and fifty wounds.”

Duke Vardi’s expression darkened instantly. I took a step back.

“You watched them die… and you were smiling. Quite contentedly, I might add.”

For a moment, Duke Vardi’s face remained expressionless, then he smiled.

“How interesting. A fascinating sorcerer indeed.”

He clapped his hands twice and glanced around.

“Everyone! It seems tonight is my lucky night. This lovely sorcerer here is offering to give me a fortune-telling! Please, continue enjoying the evening. Sorcerer, follow me, haha!”

The crowd murmured. Duke Vardi gestured for me to follow him down a hallway. As I hesitated, Mr. Sorel nudged me and whispered, “You should follow him. It’s a rare opportunity. By the way, what did you mean earlier?”

“It’s nothing,” I replied.

I followed Duke Vardi down the long corridor. He opened a small door and entered a dimly lit room.

“This is amusing.”

Duke Vardi lit another cigar, his face brimming with excitement.

“This is quite a picture!”

He dropped himself into a chair, exclaiming.

“You’re standing just like in a portrait, holding the Whitebirch in your left hand and leaning to the side. The only difference is that instead of the eerie sorcerer with the long hair and the black donkey coat, we have you, with your golden locks! Haha!”

I suppressed my bitter smile.

How easily you laugh. Then again, the victor never understands the pain of the vanquished.

Duke Vardi handed me a glass of wine. I shook my head.

“There’s only one reason I came here.”

“And that reason is?”

Duke Vardi sat back down.

“I’m curious. That torture with the girl’s torture device, inflicted on someone who was already going to die—was it your own decision, or did it come from a royal command?”

“Hmm.”

Duke Vardi rubbed his chin before responding.

“Is that all? Is that really all?”

“Yes.”

“Then I have something I’m curious about as well.”

I was taken aback by his unexpected response.

“About what?”

“Were Whitebirch and the king actually in love?”

“What?”

I blinked in disbelief. How absurd. How could the king’s second wife, who spent fifty years with him, not know?

“What kind of nonsense is that?”

Duke Vardi shrugged in response to my question.

“When it came to women, the king never confided in me. I dismissed the rumors as mere fantasy. After all, Whitebirch’s love confession during the trial was nothing more than the ramblings of a madwoman.”

After a brief pause, Duke Vardi continued.

“Let me tell you something that’s not in the official records. The king had another confidant, Rosche, who handled all of his most personal matters, including reading his letters and documents. I always thought the curse on Whitebirch was a false accusation, something the king and Rosche concocted together.”

“And?”

“But 31 years later, the incident with the royal steward raised doubts. During the investigation, the steward confessed that he had lied, saying the tower was unfit for a queen to live in, thereby embezzling a significant portion of the funds from the king. The king was enraged.”

“…….”

“Here’s another story that isn’t in the records. The king secretly ordered the executioners to burn the steward slowly, using minimal firewood, so he would die slowly. The steward writhed in agony for two hours before dying. Watching the king’s expressionless face during that scene—it chilled me to the bone. For the first time, I began to suspect that the rumors might actually be true.”

“…….”

I broke the silence and finally spoke.

“If I must answer that question, then yes, it’s true. Annoying as it is, it did happen. The same goes for the curse incident.”

Duke Vardi didn’t respond. He looked as if he’d been struck.

I glanced at the clock. It was half past eleven. Perhaps it was Duke Vardi’s smug demeanor, but surprisingly, I no longer felt the burning anger. Instead, I felt drained.

“I should be going now,” I said with a sigh.

“You laughed so freely, didn’t you? To you, he might’ve been nothing more than a pest, but to him, that was his only life. Still, it’s all in the past now. I’ll take my leave.”

Just as I was about to turn away, Duke Vardi called out, “Wait.”

“Is that really all you came for?”

“What else would there be?”

“Hmm.”

He took a drag from his cigar and stared at me intently. Something was off. That flicker of relief on his face unsettled me. Relief? What could he possibly feel relieved about?

Then Duke Vardi spoke.

“What made you think I was the one who watched the queen die?”

“What do you mean? A commoner background, knowing the king’s signature was incorrect by a missing letter… All the answers were in your interview.”

“Ah, I see. I thought only the king would figure out the hint. I didn’t expect Whitebirch to know about the flawed signature. Back then, there were barely any women who could read and write. I completely overlooked that.”

“There’s hardly any record about Whitebirch, so it makes sense you wouldn’t know much about them.”

“Well, that’s part of it.”

Duke Vardi let out a strange laugh. The unease in me grew.

“First of all, about the young girl’s torture,” Duke Vardi started.

“Yes, it was brutal, regardless of the method. You know that better than anyone.”

“…So?”

“Well, I once snuck a look at the queen through the prison window with my younger brothers. Contrary to rumors of her being plain, she was young and beautiful. I was shocked. At that point, there was no comparison to someone like me, a 40-year-old well past her prime. After the war, I feared that the king might change his mind and pardon the curse incident to secure an heir after seeing the queen again.”

I clenched the Whitebirch branch tightly. It was as if Pandora’s box had just been opened.

The duke took a leisurely sip of wine.

“We didn’t bear any personal grudge against the queen. Still, we were lucky. The king left the palace for the war. During his absence, we decided to ruin the queen’s young body, just in case the king saw her again afterward.”

I fought back the urge to vomit.

“Don’t be too hard on the king. He was furious about the state of her corpse as well. The only time he ever showed such anger toward me was the day of her public viewing. After the party that night, he summoned me, my brothers, and the torturers and gave us a terrifying glare.”

The duke continued his story in a disturbingly cheerful tone.

“I acted quickly. ‘We only did it to dispel the public’s suspicions, Your Majesty. Since no witchcraft tools were found in the tower, we had no choice but to force her to confess!’”

The duke chuckled as if recalling a fond memory.

“It was the performance of my life. I was trembling with fear that day! The queen’s incoherent trial record helped our case. It was also lucky that the torturers involved in the betrayal of Cardinal Loren had committed suicide.”

I frowned. Something was bothering me.

“Why did you conspire only with your brothers? Why was the king only angry at you, your brothers, and the torturers?”

“Ah, I forgot to explain that part.”

Duke Vardi took another drag from his cigar.

“Hm… You’re smarter than you look, beautiful sorceress. Just as one would expect from Whitebirch’s reincarnation, a rare woman in the 16th century who knew how to read.”

I steadied my breathing. The duke’s constant evasion was growing more irritating by the moment. Just as I was about to retort, a chilling realization hit me.

This can’t be…

His words echoed in my mind: “I didn’t expect Whitebirch to know about the flawed signature. Back then, there were barely any women who could read and write. I completely overlooked that.”

How could I have missed this?

Duke Vardi wasn’t even thinking of Whitebirch. To him, the queen had always been one person—Levitan. But he had mentioned earlier, “Besides me, the only person who could have known about the king’s flawed signature was the queen.”

And then he said, “I thought only the king would figure out the hint.”

The puzzle pieces snapped into place. In the 16th century, even noblewomen were rarely educated. How could Levitan, the “typical 16th-century commoner woman” who hated bathing and lived freely, know how to read or write?

She may have seen the king’s signature, but she would never have known that letters were missing!

It wasn’t Levitan who knew. It was someone close to her, someone who used her as a front, offering dwarves and jesters as bribes, exchanging conspiratorial letters disguised as love letters with the king. Someone who oversaw the royal household, leading Levitan’s younger brothers. Someone Levitan consulted on every matter.

“You’ve realized now, haven’t you? As expected, you are a clever sorceress.”

Duke Vardi smiled a wide, chilling grin. I instinctively stepped back, but he grabbed my wrist tightly.

“We’re not done here. The reason we watched the queen was because of the king. Before he left for war, he gave me specific orders for the torturers: ‘Leave the queen alone.’”

My entire body trembled uncontrollably.

“After I watched the queen, I called the torturers and handed them a bag of gold. ‘Torture her just enough so she won’t die, but completely destroy her face. No matter how much she begs for a peaceful death, don’t grant it.’ Then, I left. Ha ha ha! I was there, standing behind Levitan in her final moments. I guess you didn’t see me in the shadows.”

Levitan’s brother, Raretez.

Messara’s words echoed in my head:

The naked truth stood before me. The boy king who ascended the throne at thirteen had used Levitan as a pretext to bring the Prugoni family into power. Raretez, the eldest of the Prugoni family, remained loyal only to the king, becoming a key figure in stabilizing the kingdom by controlling both the civilian and military factions. Levitan was merely Raretez’s mask. Raretez himself was the true consort and queen to the king.

“I understand now. Please let go of me. I’ll be leaving.”

“That was truly unfortunate. The queen was so young and beautiful. I’m sure she gave the king many children. The king supposedly wanted to have a physical relationship with her after just their second meeting, didn’t he? Even now, you’re just as beautiful as back then. If the king were reincarnated and saw you now, I’m sure he would want to be with you just as quickly as before. Haha!”

The duke tightened his grip on my wrist, his gaze as if I were nothing more than a prostitute. A sudden premonition flashed through my mind: I needed to get out of here immediately.

I shook off the duke’s hand with a sharp motion.

“I’m leaving.”

“We’re not finished talking.”

“I don’t need to hear anything more from you.”

I shoved him away and ran for the door. My only thought was to escape as quickly as possible. But I barely made it a few steps before a heavy blow struck the back of my head. My knees buckled, and consciousness faded.

“I can’t just let you go… Snake’s lover.”

A faint voice brushed past my ears as I drifted away, followed by cruel laughter.

꙳•❅*ִ

At 2 AM, an urgent report came in. Miss Botkina had been ambushed by assailants on her way home after having lunch with the king. It felt like a bolt out of the blue while I was deep in editing my latest piece.

My subordinates reported that they had captured all the assailants. After leaving the final touches of the article to Copperhead, I headed down to the underground torture chamber with Leopard. The three assailants were strung up from the ceiling.

“Third-rate gangsters. According to them, they thought she was a rich girl and planned to rob her.”

I scoffed at my subordinate’s explanation. Nonsense. If robbery was their goal, why bother meticulously shaving off her hair?

The once-beautiful Miss Botkina, with her alluring long hair, had been transformed into a gleaming bald figure. There was no need to think further; this was the kind of incident that often befell prominent queen candidates. At least, she hadn’t been doused in acid.

I tapped the table and glared at the gangsters. Unlucky bastards. I hadn’t slept for nearly two days, working nonstop. My nerves were on edge, and exhaustion was overwhelming me. These thugs had become the perfect prey.

I snapped my fingers.

“Everyone except Leopard, get out.”

“Yes, Chief.”

As they left, my subordinates glanced back at the gangsters, their expressions quite entertaining.

—that was the look they gave. And indeed, the gangsters were as good as dead. When time is short, starting with high-intensity torture is the rule.

I picked up a pair of pliers, scratching at Leopard’s neck as I spoke.

“If you use that, their speech will slur.”

“Doesn’t matter. I’ll make them write.”

The faces of the gangsters turned pale. I scanned them, choosing the one with the best teeth after forcing their mouths open. I picked the one whose teeth shone the whitest.

After ordering Leopard to hold the guy’s jaw tight, I pulled out two front teeth. His scream was so intense it felt like his uvula was shaking in an 8.0 earthquake. His feet stamped furiously as saliva flew everywhere. It didn’t matter. My mask was silver-plated, so a quick wipe would do.

“Spit it out.”

“W-What do you w-want?”

“Tell me who ordered you. Each question will cost you a tooth.”

“I d-don’t know!”

I pulled out three more bottom teeth.

“Hurry up and talk. I don’t have much patience. Tell me who it is!”

“I r-really don’t kn-know!”

I yanked out both molars and then broke his fingers. His uvula now seemed to be experiencing a 9.0 earthquake.

“Spit it out!”

“I r-really d-don’t!”

His resolve was impressive. It didn’t matter. It had only been five minutes since the torture began. The last time I enjoyed blood like this was with Makela, and since then, I’d been buried in paperwork. I planned to savor this for at least an hour, despite my busy schedule.

I smashed his testicles with the pliers, again and again, until his crotch was soaked in blood. His screams echoed off the torture room’s ceiling like a trapped cat’s cry. The rhythm of the screams shifted rapidly: faster, then a bit slower, then extremely fast again. It felt like listening to a classical symphony as I swung the pliers. It was intoxicating. The pleasure was burning hot. The guy foamed at the mouth and passed out. The other gangsters trembled with fear.

“Do you even know who the lady you messed with is? She’s a precious queen candidate. Now that you’re here, don’t even dream of leaving with your balls intact.”

I turned to the next one. I rammed the pliers into his wide-open mouth and enthusiastically worked. I broke two front teeth, pulled out one molar, twisted his tongue twice, and shattered three bottom teeth. He lost control of his bowels and passed out. I pinched his testicles three times with the pliers, and he instantly regained consciousness, stamping his feet in agony.

I smirked.

“Spill it.”

“H-Huu… Huu…”

The guy moaned in agony. I pinched his testicles four more times with the pliers.

“Don’t give me that annoying laugh. How dare you act arrogant? Just answer quickly.”

“H-Huuuh…”

This one was stubborn too. I moved on to the next thug, pulling out ten teeth. His screams swept through the torture chamber like a whirlwind. Still, I didn’t stop with the pliers, smashing his testicles until his crotch was soaked. After five minutes of waterboarding, he finally came to his senses.

“Spit it out.”

“Huuuh…”

Once again, only weak gasps came out. These guys were tough. I hesitated.

Huuuuh?

I grabbed his chin and sharply asked, “Pusher?” The thug quickly nodded. Leopard stared at me in shock.

“What did he say? Pusher?”

I scrutinized the gangsters. Eleven years of experience in this business made it easy to tell when someone was lying or telling the truth. They were telling the truth.

I loosened my tie and sat in a chair, tapping the table a few times before speaking.

“Did Pusher order you directly, or was there an intermediary? If it was the former, nod your head side to side; if it was the latter, nod up and down.”

They all nodded up and down in unison. As expected, I smiled faintly. I then called in my subordinates and stood up.

“Handle it.”

As I left the torture room, Leopard whispered, “It’s Karl, isn’t it?”

“Pusher wouldn’t be that sloppy. Karl must’ve orchestrated this, using Pusher as a front. We need to capture the intermediary and tie this into the scandal right away.”

“It’s Pusher.”

I firmly responded, causing Leopard to halt mid-step and ask, “What?” After a brief pause, he hurried back to my side, repeating, “What did you say?”

“It’s Pusher. He set up a double trap. He calculated that we know how cautious he is, and he played us. Pusher has nothing to lose. If he succeeds in damaging the queen candidate’s appearance, it’s a win. If he fails, he’ll pin the blame on Karl, dragging him down with a scandal. Either way, he benefits. What a clever old man.”

We went back to the office, where I threw my cursed mask onto the desk and lit a cigarette. Leopard, pouring ice into a glass of Drambuie, remarked, “So we need to find the middleman and link him to Pusher. Isn’t it quite a scandal that this ‘Lotus’ attacked a queen candidate?”

“Not at all. This kind of thing is common in the battle for the queen’s seat. All they managed was giving her a buzz cut. Besides, Pusher wouldn’t leave a middleman alive. Searching would be a waste of our time. This is intriguing though. Truly, a masterstroke surpassing Manen’s tactics.”

I slammed the table with a whip in frustration. I was on edge.

Suddenly, the internal phone rang. The display showed “Karl Vardi.” Leopard chuckled, “What’s this about?” I leaned back comfortably in my chair. A direct call from the duke himself, at this hour?

Looks like someone’s toes are on fire.

The phone rang repeatedly. I couldn’t help but laugh as I sipped my Drambuie. News had finally reached Karl. I could almost see him, frantic, panicking. It was exhilarating.

I had scheduled the article release for 2:30 AM. The newspapers were probably already being printed. At the same time, Karl’s child abuse scandal had been sent to the other media outlets. Journalists were likely rushing to the Mazarini Castle as we spoke. To prevent his escape, I had stationed a squad near the castle. The hunt was officially on.

“Chief, we should get going. We need to send over the video by 4 AM,” Leopard said. I nodded, finishing my drink in one go before standing up. As we left the office, the phone blared again. I slammed the door shut.

By 6 AM, Karl’s arrest at Mazarini Castle was aired on the morning news. Unlike other celebrities, he even smiled for the cameras, posing for the reporters. “My innocence will be proven soon,” he declared, flashing a confident grin. He still didn’t understand the gravity of the situation.

At 7 AM,

spread its morning edition nationwide. Karl, beaming on a rocking horse with a blonde girl, was plastered across the front page. The headline read, “The Tragedy of a Sexual Minority.” This was the phrase I had specifically requested from

.

At 8 AM, all major news channels aired a censored video of Karl’s sexual assault on the blonde boy. It was flawlessly edited, thanks to our overnight efforts. Additionally,

issued a statement claiming no affiliation with Karl.

Pusher moved quickly too. The moment Karl’s scandal broke, he removed his nose bandages and was discharged from the hospital. Within an hour, he released a statement expressing regret that such a corrupt noble had emerged from the noble lineage of the Tattooed Lords and proposed stripping Karl of his title.

Prosecutors hinted that Karl’s bail request would likely be denied. Pusher had mobilized his connections among the legal elders of the Tattooed Lords. By noon, I received word that Karl’s laptop contained a staggering 150 GB of child pornography. No adult content. They also found child sex dolls and children’s underwear in his room.

Cooperhead mentioned that the nannies of the aristocratic children from the tea party had started reaching out. They were willing to testify for us in exchange for some form of compensation. I instructed him to prepare the second wave of materials as quickly as possible.

The rest of the morning was spent handling various tasks. I skipped breakfast, and lunch was just a coffee and sandwich at my desk.

“Man, this is insane. You should take at least five minutes to rest. My head hurts just thinking about escorting Altonen to the press conference,” Leopard said, handing me a cup of coffee. I accepted it and loosened my tie. I wasn’t in a great mood. Karl was done, thoroughly ruined. Yet, I knew the real victor of this operation wasn’t me.

I turned on the TV. Pusher appeared on the news, delivering a solemn statement. Just days ago, he had been whining about botched plastic surgery, and now, with that enhanced nose bridge and smoothed wrinkles, he was back in the spotlight. His statement was so eloquent, it almost moved me.

He wrote that within an hour of his discharge?

“Damn old man. He’s been watching me from the palm of his hand.”

I twisted my lips into a crooked smile. There wasn’t much I could do. I decided to take comfort in the fact that Pusher was handling the legal clean-up. At least I had finally wiped out

.

Now, all that was left was to enjoy the honeymoon.

I picked up my phone for a bit of a mood boost, planning to chat with Ray. But all I got was a missed call notification.

“Hmm?”

I frowned. Why was Ray’s phone off at this hour? Sleeping in? Maybe on a Sunday, but today was Monday.

Something felt off. I briefly considered calling Mrs. Castlemaine to check on Ray when Cooperhead entered the office and said, “Hey, Chief. The second batch of materials is ready. But it seems like Karl’s really lost it. He’s not answering any of the officer’s questions and just keeps demanding they bring Snake to him.”

“Hmm.”

I put down the phone and smiled.

“The prosecutor sent a video. You should take a look.”

Cooperhead played the footage. It was of Karl receiving the charges. His murderous expression was a stark contrast to the calm demeanor he’d shown on the morning news. Quite the spectacle.

The officer asked if he admitted to the charges. Karl shook his head.

“Bring me Snake.”

“Stop talking nonsense and answer the question. Did you touch the children with sexual intent or not, you bastard?”

“I know this is all a setup. Bring your boss here. Get Snake. If you refuse my offer, he’ll regret it.”

“What nonsense are you spouting, you bastard? If you keep this up, it’ll only make things worse for you. Why not just hand everything over to your expensive lawyer and save yourself some stress? Let’s compromise, you damn fool.”

“Bring Snake. Arrange a private meeting. I have something to say.”

Karl’s eyes were burning with intensity, and his clenched fists trembling with rage added to the drama.

I shrugged. I was already planning to visit the police station in the afternoon to hand over the second batch of documents, so taking the chance to watch Karl’s transfer to the detention center while enjoying a cup of coffee didn’t seem like a bad idea.

“You’ll regret it. If you don’t meet me, you’ll regret it.”

“What does that idiot think he’s doing?” Leopard snorted with laughter. I couldn’t help but laugh as well. Whatever Karl thought he could offer probably amounted to nothing more than a few paintings. Unfortunately, there was no more wall space left in the house for artwork.

“Chief, we should go. We’re going to be late for the press conference,” Cooperhead said.

“Yeah,” I replied, putting on the damned mask and standing up abruptly. I was getting tired. I just wanted to head home and relax with Ray.

I didn’t get a moment’s rest even in the car. Report calls from my direct subordinates flooded in, making my ears ring and throat dry. I escorted Altonen at the press conference until 3 PM, enduring a barrage of questions. In the middle of the conference, I received a text message from one of my subordinates.

A chill ran down my spine instantly. “Daggers” were a warning symbol used by the tattooed nobility for traitors.

Pusher was using me to get rid of Karl while simultaneously purging disloyal members of the tattooed nobility. He was diligently cleaning house, solidifying the dual leadership structure of the regime that had been in flux ever since the Warring States period. It was clear that while Pusher was resting at the hospital, he had been waiting for this moment. Karl had been nothing more than a plaything for him from the start.

Ha… well, damn.

I’d been completely outplayed.

This was truly an amusing world. I couldn’t afford to let my guard down, not for a second. This is why I loved this dirty game. I had a gut feeling: a new formidable foe, one on par with Ryeong, had emerged.

I bit my lip. Just wait, old man.

In the end, I’ll be the one laughing last.

After the press conference, Leopard, Cooperhead, and I headed to the police headquarters. We met with the prosecutors and handed over the second batch of documents, along with a thick envelope.

“Here’s a list of nannies who have agreed to testify as witnesses. They’ve overheard suspicious remarks from the children who attended the tea party but remained silent out of caution.”

“Thank you. This will be of great help in the investigation.”

“What do you think? I heard that pervert isn’t cooperating with the investigation. Ha ha. The lawyer he’s so desperately searching for has quite an interesting name. What was it again… Snake?”

“That’s right,” the prosecutor chuckled.

“He’s been asking for that lawyer non-stop. Well, when high-ranking nobility visit here, they all turn into parrots. ‘I don’t know,’ ‘It’s a setup,’ ‘Call my lawyer.’ We even assigned a prosecutor known for being tough, but the duke is holding out so hard that the officer is nearly at his limit.”

“Hmm. I’d like to see him. After all, we’ve crossed paths before, so it’s a bit unfortunate.”

“It’s not hard. Come with me.”

We followed the prosecutor to an interrogation room. The room was divided by a one-way mirror, allowing those on the other side to observe without being seen. A muscular officer was pounding the table, grilling the handsome duke, while the room’s white fluorescent lights flickered. The duke twisted his lips into a grin. The intensity of their exchanged glances was electric. Could this be called “chemistry”? The performance of these actors exceeded the director’s expectations.

“Look, do you even know what time it is? It’s 4 PM. Let’s wrap this up. Don’t you see the mountain of evidence here? From the German molestation case to video evidence, sex dolls, and the nannies’ testimonies. There’s no way out, you bastard.”

“Bring Snake.”

“Why do you keep asking for Guiger’s chief? Stop with the nonsense and answer the question, you damn fool.”

“Tell Snake this. If he doesn’t meet me, he’ll regret it.”

“Tch, geez.”

The officer loosened his tie, grinding his teeth in frustration. I clicked my tongue. That fool was just being used by Pusher. If Karl had any sense, he’d act insane and try to negotiate a lighter sentence—that was his only chance.

“If Snake doesn’t meet me, he’ll cry tears of blood,” Karl spat venomously. The police commissioner glanced at me and shrugged.

What? Whose eyes would cry blood?

At this point, it was outright hilarious. I could hardly contain my laughter. The commissioner picked up the intercom and spoke to the officer.

“The Chief is in the next room.”

The officer, hearing the message through his earpiece, briefly raised an eyebrow. A moment later, he pulled out a cigarette, lit it, and offered one to Karl as well.

“Alright. Take a break. I’m tired too, you bastard. Tough guy… I’ll tell you straight: you’re already finished. Everyone has turned their backs on you, you idiot.”

“…”

“You know what kind of group Guiger is. They’re the ones who infiltrated your house and filmed everything. They’ll eavesdrop on every conversation you have with your lawyer and present it as evidence in court. Law? You’d better not rely on the law. The police are Guiger’s wives. And they’ve been happily married for 26 years.”

“…”

“Hey, handsome Duke. I’m not saying this out of pity or because you’re good-looking. I’m just asking out of curiosity. Why are you looking for the Chief? Can you at least give me a hint?”

“Bring Snake. He can’t refuse my offer. Tell him if he doesn’t listen to me, he’ll regret it for life.”

‘An offer he can’t refuse’… How dare a pedophile act like a Sicilian Mafia boss? He really doesn’t know his place. He should be grateful to me. If it were Lord Wolfscott, he would have ordered Irina to be killed long ago.

I said solemnly to the Chief.

“Send him to the detention center quickly. The officer is having a hard time.”

“Of course. Actually, I was just stalling to show the Chief the investigation scene.”

The Chief commanded over the mic, “That’s enough, come out.” The officer muttered, “Ah, tough bastard,” as he left the investigation room.

I leaned back in my chair and stared across the way. Under the incandescent light, Karl’s face looked pale. He seemed lost in thought, like he had just been hit hard.

“You’ll regret it. If you don’t come, you’ll regret it.”

Karl kept mumbling. Leopard twirled his finger against his temple and shrugged. I agreed with Leopard’s opinion. The officers entered the investigation room and dragged Karl out.

The Chief gestured for me to follow.

“Come with me. Well, since you’re the Chief, I’ll speak frankly, but this kind of spectacle is exactly what gives the commoners working under nobles a sense of purpose, isn’t it?”

“Hmm, yes.”

In the back yard, a bus for transferring to the detention center was waiting. We lined up with police officials on the second-floor corridor, looking down.

The Chief laughed while sipping coffee.

“Since he was a star outside, he’ll be quite popular in prison too. With a face like that, he’ll have a smooth prison life protected by a muscular shoulder. I’m sure his penchant for child indulgence will be completely corrected during his prison life.”

“That’s for sure.”

I smiled. Karl, tightly bound by handcuffs, got on the bus with criminals. The door closed. The bus slowly turned around and picked up speed as it left the back yard. The bus vanished from sight.

All that was left in its place was the thick smoke. White snowflakes fell like cotton over the black smoke. The pale moon rose in the sky, revealing its bare face. It was the early evening when the cold and merciless Snow Queen arrived, bringing darkness with her. The sunlight that had fallen at midday was frozen by the queen’s cold breath.

A gray darkness settled faintly. It was a miserable exit. Karl had been the instigator, leading the migratory birds and the king’s illegitimate uncle. Pusher would never let Karl go easily. That wasn’t my concern. My job here was done.

I felt strange. On one hand, I felt relieved, finally having finished something properly. Is it natural? I wouldn’t have to watch his recital in the banquet hall anymore.

“Time to go.”

I said.

Even after returning to headquarters, I worked without rest. The situation was moving quickly. Marquis Obaska announced the engagement cancellation. Irina stated she would file a counterclaim against Guiger for invasion of privacy. She said to go ahead and do it. Thanks to the invasion, several children were saved. We had nothing to lose.

It was around 11 PM when I roughly organized everything. It was time for public opinion to slowly take shape. I glanced over the opinion poll data in the department head meeting room. On the internet, Karl was already being metaphorically burned at the stake. The companies that had hired him as a model were reportedly preparing for lawsuits.

Cooperhead smiled comfortably.

“Now, all that’s left is to listen to the judge’s gavel, right?”

“Hmm.”

Just as I was about to smile, the door suddenly opened, and Jaguar walked in.

“It’s urgent. Karl collapsed in the detention center and is being transported to the hospital. He’s reportedly suffered full-body paralysis. The doctor said he would remain unconscious for at least ten days. It’s suspected to be an assassination attempt.”

The department head meeting room fell silent. I immediately realized. Pusher had taken action against Karl.

Leopard threw his mask to the ground.

“Karl is too careless, isn’t he? If there was any chance of an assassination attempt, he should have been on high alert and fasting for a week, that foolish bastard! This could cast suspicion on us.”

“…Right.”

I poured vodka into my glass. Karl couldn’t be that careless. Inmates hired by Pusher must have forced poison into him.

It was my mistake. I hadn’t expected Pusher to act so quickly. He was bold when he needed to be. After meticulously preparing for a concert featuring a famous pianist, he ended up having the ticket profits snatched away by someone unexpected. Now I understood why Ryeong particularly favored Pusher; their tastes in conspiracy were very similar.

Damn old man…

I picked up the phone to call my direct subordinate.

“Get Karl’s attending physician on board as quickly as possible. We’ll prepare a statement saying we have nothing to do with this incident by tomorrow morning.”

The department heads looked visibly furious. However, there was nothing we could do from our end right now. I decided to take a break. I instructed everyone to come to work by 2 PM the next day and left.

I dozed off twice while driving. It was well past midnight. The flurries of snow gradually turned into raindrops tapping against the car window. It made a crackling sound like a campfire.

All the lights in the house were off. After parking, I entered the house. Diana ran up to me, wagging her tail in excitement. I picked her up and kissed her, then set her down. I was thirsty. I went to the dining room to get some water.

It was right after I set down the glass that I felt an odd sense. There was no dinner on the table. No matter how late I was, Ray always set dinner on the table. He would put a stew pot on the stove or leave something ready to be heated, but today the table was empty.

In that moment, a very unpleasant sensation washed over the back of my neck.

“You’ll regret it.”

“If you refuse my offer, you’ll regret it.”

Karl’s words echoed in my ears. A chilling wave coursed through my body. No way…

Then came the memories. When I called Ray earlier today, I only received a missed call notification.

Terrifying imaginings surged in. I immediately denied it. No way. It absolutely couldn’t be. How could Karl know where we lived? How could that bastard find out about Ray’s existence and kidnap him? But my intuition was racing toward a target.

I hurriedly headed for the bedroom. I opened the door. The next moment, I froze in place. It was just silent. An oppressive darkness, as if it had flowed out of a prison, lay thick. It was as cold, dense, and heavy as ice.

Blocked by that solid and massive wall, I stood stiffly. I couldn’t summon the courage to step forward. It seemed completely empty. It felt like absolute darkness, akin to death, was lurking. It seemed that the person waiting for me, the person I was waiting for, would not exist in that darkness.

Why is it? Why, all of a sudden, did a flash of that nightmare—kneeling slowly while hugging Ray in the cemetery—cross my mind? My chest tightened. It felt as if my soul was freezing.

By the slimmest chance, if Ray had truly been kidnapped by Karl…

My mind went blank. A question I hadn’t asked in a while floated to the surface: “Why?” Why, once again, had things spiraled in this way? Even though Karl had desperately sought me out, I had simply laughed it off, not giving it much thought. One thing was clear: the only person who knew where Ray was, was Karl. However, Karl was in a coma due to poison and would be unconscious for at least ten days. If luck wasn’t on his side, he might even die.

In the meantime, I was trapped in the cold, hard, tombstone-like time, frozen like a corpse. All I could do was leave everything to the whims of fate and wait helplessly.

The sound of the downpour scattered violently. Thunder cracked. The white light that seeped through the window couldn’t pierce through the vast darkness. Another lightning strike flashed, momentarily lighting everything up, only for everything to return to darkness as if death had swallowed it once more.

꙳•❅*ִ

Light bled into the darkness. Little by little, my consciousness returned.

“…Damn.”

I cursed under my breath.

How pathetic. Could there be a bigger fool than this? Walking into the fire pit of my own volition.

I thought it was Levitan. The whole time I was listening to Duke Vardi’s words in Messara’s high, expansive apartment, it felt like I was being struck in the back of the head. My mind was simply blank.

Putting aside legends, if you looked at the historical relationship between Whitebirch, Levitan, and Daytanz, Whitebirch was a complete outsider. Two years before Whitebirch became queen, Levitan had been Daytanz’s lover, and they had spent their lives together. Whitebirch was nothing but the witch who cursed the lovers. Like the countless queens’ mothers or princesses’ stepmothers in fairy tales, Whitebirch cursed the lovers, and when her crime was discovered, she died a cruel death.

Watching Duke Vardi on television, fear engulfed my entire body. I was terrified. It seemed as though even in this time and place, Levitan would push Ray Arisa away. Just like 600 years ago, would I stand helplessly in the corner, watching in despair as the king clapped and laughed at Levitan’s performance?

Could Messara really remain indifferent toward Duke Vardi? Even setting aside their past lives, Duke Vardi was a charming man, wasn’t he? Moreover, they had already formed a political alliance. It was an odd coincidence that they, who had been married in a past life, had ended up entangled like this. If things progressed further, they might develop a deep relationship, just like in their previous life. Fear gripped my entire body as my thoughts spiraled. And then…

“Pathetic, pathetic.”

I sighed deeply. Blinded by ridiculous doubts, I found it pathetic that just hours ago, I had promised eternal love to him over a ring. And to make things worse, I had lost my memory.

Snap out of it, Ray Arisa.

This wasn’t the time to be lost in sentiment. I was grateful that, belatedly, my memory had returned. I furrowed my brows as I reconsidered the situation.

A chill ran down my spine. How did he know? The Duke had clearly said, “Snake’s lover.” How on earth?

My heart pounded. I went over everything that had happened, not missing a single detail. There was one common thread. Every time we met, Duke Vardi asked me the same thing: about my clothes and necklace.

Clothes and necklace…

They were gifts from Messara. It seemed Duke Vardi had deduced my connection with Messara through the clothes and necklace I had worn to the party. There was no doubt. I wasn’t sure how he knew they belonged to Messara, but there was no other plausible theory. If not, there was no way to explain our third encounter at the witch’s shop. Even recalling what Irina said at the time, it was clear that meeting hadn’t been a coincidence.

At the GallerLee building, I had made a fool of myself in front of Duke Vardi. I had been so poorly dressed and claimed I didn’t even have enough money for a ride. Because of that, the Duke had only seen me as some poor wretch and had gone to great lengths to find out the owner of the necklace and clothes, relentlessly pursuing me.

Sonia, in her first-class courtesan fashion, was stunningly beautiful. The Duke had easily believed my half-hearted response and then…

All the warmth drained from my body. It felt like I was being buried by a blizzard.

So then, Sonia—did she die? Because of my careless words?

It was horrifying. I involuntarily let out a scream.

“Ah, you scared me. …Ray? Are you awake now?”

A sleepy voice suddenly called out. I opened my eyes wide. It took a while for me to discern my surroundings in the thick darkness. It was a dim cell with only a small bathroom and a bed. I saw a beautiful woman through the bars beside me.

“Ah… Sonia?”

“Are you awake?”

Sonia reached her hand through the bars. I hurriedly sat up and grasped her hand. I felt like I was about to cry. Sonia patted my hand soothingly.

“Hehe, you’re that happy? But this is bad. Green! Green! Wake up!”

I looked around. It was a sealed space without windows. This was undoubtedly the underground prison of the Mazzarini estate. The air was thick with a strange stench.

“What’s that smell?”

“It’s the smell of rotting corpses. It’s awful, I know. I feel like I’m going to lose my mind thinking I might give birth here. Wake up already!”

Sonia shook Mr. Owin. I was confused. I was glad to see them alive, but it was surprising that Duke Vardi had kept them alive.

“I feel like I’ve had all the oral sex I’ll ever need in my life here. There’s nothing else to do. But, darling. You didn’t get captured without any plan, right? Your fabulous lover is supposed to be the Snake, isn’t he? His men will come and rescue us soon, right?”

Sonia whimpered. Her face was pale and worn.

“Sonia, first, explain what happened.”

“Well… after we parted at the witch’s shop, some fixer kidnapped me and brought me here. That night, they used me as bait to lure Owin here as well. The fixer tried to kill Owin in this room, but Owin killed the fixer in the struggle. Then, immediately, the door closed.”

“Duke Vardi, right?”