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Chapter 12
“I’m so sick of even looking at lace!”
The next day, Rovellin had secretly slipped out of the house.
Her face looked utterly worn out.
‘My lady, what about this lace?’
‘My lady, how should we arrange the skirt pleats?’
‘My lady—please come this way—’
The Daphne staff were all united in their devotion to tailoring every detail—down to each button and lace pattern—to the client’s preference.
She understood that this was what truly high-end bespoke dressmaking looked like, but the endless questions and constant adjustments had been nothing short of torture for Rovellin.
“I need a break today.”
So she staged a secret escape.
The dressmaking might be delayed a bit, but she didn’t really mind.
After all, it had been forced on her by Ian in the first place.
And more importantly, she had an important plan today.
“If the original story timeline is right, it should be around now.”
Soon, a major fire would break out on Fourth Avenue—the busiest street in Centerfield, the capital.
The fire itself was an accident, not a crime.
But it would severely damage the imperial finances, and because of the massive dowry Cornelia would bring, the Emperor would rush Ian’s imperial marriage.
From that point, Ian would begin to resent a marriage bound by money.
It was the incident that would twist Cornelia’s original fate.
“I can’t just sit back and watch that happen.”
Rovellin decided to check the area where the fire might begin, just in case there were any suspicious elements.
Since she had sneaked out, she couldn’t use the viscount’s carriage, so she took a public carriage into the city.
“—Huh? Wait.”
But the moment she stepped down, someone familiar caught her eye.
‘Isn’t that the coachman from before?’
The man glanced around cautiously, his hat pulled low—but Rovellin recognized him immediately.
He was the very coachman who had fled after being involved in the carriage accident.
She had memorized his face from the wanted posters that had been posted all over Centerfield.
‘Why is he here?’
After the accident, wanted posters had gone up across the capital.
Yet here he was, walking openly in broad daylight?
‘Come to think of it… Ian said there must be someone behind him.’
Though he hadn’t said who.
Maybe he was going to meet that “backer.”
After a moment’s hesitation, Rovellin decided to follow him.
‘If he’s meeting whoever’s behind this, they might try to harm Cornelia again.’
The man, glancing around nervously, soon slipped into an alley.
Rovellin hurried after him.
Before she knew it, she had entered District Six—the capital’s most notorious and dangerous area.
‘This place is… kind of scary. Maybe I should call the guards?’
Dark, ominous shops lined both sides of the street.
Most were shut tight in the daytime, which only made the place feel more unsettling.
She debated whether to keep following him or turn back and report him—
“Hey!”
“Eek!”
Suddenly, a long, witch-like hand shot out from behind and grabbed her arm.
Startled, Rovellin spun around with a shout.
A gaunt woman with hollow eyes and cheap makeup stared up at her.
“You’re the one who brought it, right?”
“What… what are you talking about? I don’t know anything!”
“What nonsense! Are you trying to take it back now? I paid for it! Do you know what I had to do to get that money?!”
The woman’s grip tightened painfully on Rovellin’s wrist.
Despite her thin arms, her grip was incredibly strong—no matter how Rovellin twisted, she couldn’t break free.
“Give it back! Without it, I feel like I’m going to die!”
“I told you, I don’t know what you’re talking about—”
“Take this.”
In the middle of their struggle, a pouch suddenly appeared beside Rovellin.
The woman immediately let go of her wrist and snatched the pouch greedily.
‘What is going on here…?’
For a brief moment, Rovellin watched the woman frantically open the pouch, making strange, animal-like sounds.
Then—
“This way!”
The one who handed over the pouch grabbed Rovellin’s wrist and pulled her away.
With no time to think, she was dragged along.
She kept glancing back, afraid the woman would chase them.
She didn’t even have time to see the stranger’s face properly.
“You damn fraud! If I catch you, I’ll kill you! I’ll kill you!”
“She’s already noticed us.”
The man muttered calmly.
Then he quickly ducked into a building.
A frightened Rovellin followed right behind him.
They only stopped once they reached an attic room at the top floor, finally catching their breath.
“Haa… th-thank you… you just saved—”
But Rovellin’s words stopped the moment she saw his face.
Her expression immediately darkened.
Sunlit golden hair revealed exactly who he was.
“Your Highness… why are you here again?”
“This makes twice now. I’ve saved your life twice.”
Unlike her stunned reaction, Ian leaned back casually, catching his breath.
He was once again in disguise.
“Were you following me?”
“Following you?”
Ian scoffed as if he had heard something ridiculous.
“Absurd. I came here after hearing that illegal poison herb trade is active in District Six, and I just happened to find you in trouble. Why would I follow you? Isn’t that right?”
“Yes, yes. Just breathe and speak properly.”
‘He did it. He definitely did it.’
Now that she looked closely, Ian was terrible at lying.
The way his eyes kept shifting around, trying to act calm, only made it obvious.
Ian tailing the coachman… Rovellin tailing the coachman… and Ian tailing Rovellin.
It was like some ridiculous chain of tailing.
‘Forget it. What do I even expect from Ian Hariette?’
She shook her head in defeat.
But there was something more important than whether he had followed her.
“What do you mean, poison herb?”
“Never heard of it? The ‘Demon of Pernin.’”
“Oh.”
Rovellin’s eyes widened.
She had vaguely seen it in the newspapers.
A poisonous herb spreading through the empire, causing the guards major trouble.
It gave intense pleasure upon ingestion—but slowly withered people away until they died.
And its toxicity was so severe that no cure had been developed yet.
“Why are you personally investigating something like this? You could leave it to the guards.”
“I don’t trust them. The head of the guard, Wigel, is aligned with the Empress.”
“Pardon?”
What did that mean? Didn’t he trust the Empress?
Rovellin blinked in confusion.
Seeing this, Ian chuckled and ruffled her hair.
“It’s imperial business. Don’t worry about it.”
But soon, the smile faded from his lips.
The poison had already reached the capital, and the condition of the addicts he had seen was far worse than expected.
‘So it’s this serious.’
What he had said earlier to Rovellin was partly an excuse, but the rumors about illegal trade in District Six were true.
And now he had confirmed it himself.
‘A place like this makes sense for that kind of operation.’
The warehouse they had entered was filled with junk and debris.
Dust covered everything, and cobwebs hung in layers, creating a suffocating atmosphere.
But something stood out.
‘This is…’
Ian walked toward a stack of sacks in the corner.
Unlike everything else, they were clean—clearly placed there recently.
He reached out toward one of them.
And then—
“Y-Your Highness.”
“What is it?”
Ian turned around.
Rovellin was staring toward the door with a slightly frightened expression.
“I think… someone is coming up right now.”
