Chapter 6
“Ah…”
Arte couldn’t easily speak.
Now that she heard the whole story, everything made sense. The anger when someone questioned if she was Peria, the sorrowful look in his eyes when he mistook her for Peria—everything clicked.
“Because the explosions kept going off, recovery efforts were delayed, and access was restricted. But the Duke stormed in, insisting he had to find Lady Darton. He searched for a long time and… eventually, he found her.”
“…”
“As you probably know, many bodies were severely damaged under the debris. It was a nightmare trying to identify the victims. Lady Darton’s body was no different. But the Duke recognized the sigil on the back of her hand…”
The Darton family was well-known not only for their power but also for a rare hereditary condition. Direct descendants were born with a magical mark—like a magic circle—on the back of their left hand.
Peria also bore the Darton sigil. And Demion had recognized it at once.
“After the incident, of course the Duke wasn’t in his right mind. It was complete chaos. He repeatedly tried to take his own life. The entire household was on high alert. People tried to hush it up, but the rumors spread throughout the Empire. I still remember hearing about it.”
The more she heard, the more overwhelmed Arte felt.
Just as Demion said, Arte could not be Peria. Arte was alive—vividly, undeniably so. She hadn’t died.
Which meant these couldn’t be her memories. Peria had clearly existed as a separate person, living at the same time as Arte. So Demion’s confusion was, indeed, just a mistake.
‘Then why does she appear in my dreams? Why do I keep having the same dream? Why do I call her name… Peria…?’
The more she thought about it, the more her head felt like it was going to explode.
‘Did I maybe hear the story five years ago? And it was just so tragic it got lodged in my subconscious and turned into dreams?’
She chased theory after theory, one leading into another, but couldn’t find a satisfying answer.
Then, suddenly, she realized there was one more question she hadn’t asked—one that was very important.
“Did Lady Darton also have silver hair and golden eyes?”
Demion had said Arte resembled Peria. She wanted to confirm just how.
“Silver hair and golden eyes? You’re the only one in the Empire with that combination, Miss. Lady Darton had long brown hair. I heard her eyes were sensitive, so she always wore a thin veil. They said her eyes were brown too.”
“What about her face? Any photographs or portraits?”
“There are no photographs, but there’s one childhood portrait. And to be honest, she looked nothing like you. Not saying this just because I serve you—truly, you’re far more beautiful.”
Martha spoke with such solemn conviction that she even started listing how exactly Arte was prettier than Peria.
It was a nice thing to say, but none of it stuck in Arte’s mind.
She was too confused.
It meant Demion had recalled Peria while looking at someone who looked nothing like her.
The more she learned, the more tangled her thoughts became. Arte shut her eyes tightly.
Was her head about to burst?
This unexpected visitor had stirred up a storm, and it was shaking her to the core.
* * *
In the end, Arte stayed up all night.
She tried to push the thoughts aside and sleep, but countless questions chased each other endlessly, keeping her awake.
Desperate, Arte summoned Martha again.
With the help of a butler who collected newspapers as a hobby, she gathered several years’ worth of articles and combed through every mention of “Demion Locata” with Martha’s help.
She figured she had to understand more about Demion if she wanted to untangle her confusion.
But there wasn’t much to find—only more proof of his dazzling achievements.
A genius who entered the Royal Academy at the youngest age, graduated early with honors, became the youngest captain in history, led victorious battles in overseas deployments, and rescued his entire squad in an extraction mission.
Every story glittered. And there wasn’t a single scandal to be found.
The only slightly darker tale was about the nanny who had kidnapped young Demion and was finally caught after a long pursuit.
But even that only emphasized how ruthlessly the Locata family eliminated their enemies, and how powerful and wealthy they were. It merely added to Demion’s aura.
After digging through all those papers, Arte let out a deep sigh.
All she had truly realized was how badly she’d angered someone far above her station—and how utterly clueless she was on how to fix it.
She felt overwhelmed.
Her eyes were bloodshot, and dark circles formed under them. Thankfully, her skilled maids covered them with makeup, but Arte still felt as heavy as a sponge soaked in water.
If this were any other day, she might’ve used the sleepless night as an excuse to nap. But today wasn’t just any day.
It was the day of the charity event hosted by Count Tian.
He had practically invited guests specifically for this day—it was a major event for the family.
The Count, who deeply loved his people, never skipped a charity event, no matter how tight the finances.
Everyone knew his sincerity, so no one in the family tried to stop him. Instead, they quietly helped however they could.
Arte had spent the entire month preparing for this event. She couldn’t let her exhaustion show, not after all that effort.
She wore a white dress to match the dress code and put on a narrow-brimmed hat with a yellow ribbon. Then, she stood beside the Count to greet the guests.
“We’re lucky the weather turned out so well. Thanks to it, we have such a great turnout.”
“You’re right, Father. There are even more people than last year.”
Contrary to her worries, the event was lively from the start.
The Count beamed, his kind smile a sure sign of success.
“I think the rumors about the Duke Locata attending helped too,” he whispered quietly as they exchanged polite glances with distant guests.
Just hearing the name she was trying so hard to forget threw Arte’s heart into disarray again.
The dream, Demion’s confusion—it was all still a mystery. But at least one thing was certain: Arte was not Peria.
She had to apologize. The misunderstanding had been hers, not his. Her mistake had reopened old wounds in Demion, and it needed to be made right.
The problem was, she didn’t know if she’d even get the chance to apologize.
She could still picture Demion turning away—so coldly.
It hadn’t been mild anger. Just thinking of those sharp eyes sent a chill down her spine.
Even if he didn’t ignore her now, Arte wasn’t sure she could face him with the same confidence as before.
“Oh, Arte. You’re in charge of the auction preparations again, right?”
“Yes, Father.”
“Yesterday, Duke Locata mentioned he had something he’d like to donate. He said he brought an item for today’s auction. Go to him and retrieve it, and rearrange the auction order accordingly.”
“Oh… yes, Father. I’ll do that.”
Was this good luck or bad?
A bridge had appeared from the most unexpected direction.
Startled, Arte quickly nodded and stepped away from the Count.
Facing Demion still felt stifling, but there was no way around it. Maybe the auction preparations would give her an easier way to break the ice.
Rubbing her throbbing temple, Arte headed toward the inner part of the garden to find Demion.
“Arte!”
But as she stepped into a secluded path across the garden, an all-too-familiar voice—one that instantly made her feel sick—called out to her.
Please, let me be hearing things. Please let it be a hallucination from sleep deprivation.
Even as she froze in place, she kept wishing.
But her wish was not granted.
“I heard something very interesting. Where are you off to?”
