Prologue
Unwanted guests were always a nuisance. And when that guest happened to be entangled with several of the most important people in your life, dealing with them became an even greater headache.
“The middle seat in the very front row is fine, right?”
“Yeah. Just put up a nameplate for me. Thanks.”
Eric Ashford, a classmate who had volunteered to help, shrugged as he approached with a hastily made nameplate for a reserved seat. Leaving me behind to greet arriving professors, he hurried into the hall to prepare one more VIP seat for a guest who had yet to arrive.
Even on the day of the wedding, Clara and I had debated whether to arrange formal seating.
Because of who we were, we couldn’t simply tell certain people not to come. In the end, however, the decision of whether to reserve VIP seats for important guests rested entirely with us.
Clara couldn’t invite the childhood friends she had grown up with, so her guest list consisted of only a handful of college classmates and her academic advisor. Mine wasn’t much different. I couldn’t invite anyone from my homeland, let alone my parents.
As a result, I found myself wondering how to fill a venue that was far larger than the number of people we could realistically invite.
Some suggested choosing a wedding hall that suited our circumstances.
But that was impossible.
When I proposed, I had promised Clara the finest ring available. I had placed on her finger a diamond ring whose carat weight was something an ordinary citizen of this country could never hope to obtain in a lifetime.
The venue followed the same principle.
I had chosen this place after endless persuasion because I wanted to give Clara the very best of everything.
And so, I took advantage of my status as a newly appointed assistant professor—someone currently attracting considerable attention—to draw the interest of a man whom everyone wanted to meet at least once.
The male colleagues attending the wedding joked that the quality and number of guests were intimidating and that my entire life seemed built on excessive showmanship.
Maybe they were right.
But for Clara’s sake, even excessive showmanship was sometimes necessary.
I knew they disapproved of me when it came to things like this.
Even so, there was nothing I wouldn’t do to make my wife the greatest Clara Madeline Halo possible.
“Wow. As expected, you’ve exceeded my expectations. You seem to have a natural talent for event planning.”
Yet the moment he appeared at our wedding, that determination wavered.
My wife, who held him in high regard, greeted him with a bright smile and extended her hand.
“Lady Clara, congratulations. Two such remarkable people have joined their lives together. I’m certain you’ll live happily ever after.”
“Thank you. I’m simply grateful that you came despite your busy schedule.”
Whether his words were sincere or not was impossible to tell.
Still, because he showed such interest in Clara’s research and seemed to understand it so well, making her smile came easily to him.
“Thank you for accepting such a sudden invitation. We’ve reserved a seat for you in the front row. One of the staff will guide you there.”
Considering that I had agonized until the very last moment over whether to invite him, his attendance today likely required rearranging or cancelling multiple commitments.
I knew that was partly my fault.
That didn’t mean I trusted him.
He extended his hand.
As I shook it, the familiar smell of laboratory alcohol reached my nose.
But there was something else today.
A faint metallic scent lingered beneath it.
A smell that reminded me of blood.
To put it bluntly, it was the odor left behind after hunting a beast.
Among the people of Etatina—especially those living on the hill—most belonged to the old upper class and drowned themselves in perfume. For such a scent to cling to him was anything but normal.
“I should be the one thanking you for inviting me to such a joyous occasion. I’ll stay until the very end, so perhaps we can speak briefly afterward.”
“I’ll make time.”
I knew perfectly well that I was supposed to spend every moment beside Clara today.
That was only natural.
It was our wedding.
But if I could uncover even a single useful clue…
His gaze shifted toward Clara, silently asking for her approval.
Completely unwary of him, Clara blinked in surprise before nodding.
“It looks like you’ll have plenty of troublesome people to deal with today.”
He glanced around the lobby, gave a bitter smile, and let out a dismissive snort.
He truly disliked those who swarmed him purely because of his status.
Professors and politicians who had no idea when he would arrive had been waiting nearly two hours before the ceremony, gathering in small groups and exchanging meaningless conversation.
Now they stood watching us, waiting for our private exchange to end.
“I’ll head inside first. Lady Clara, your dress is beautiful.”
I discreetly escorted him to the entrance so no one else could intercept him. After handing him off to a staff member, he disappeared into the hall without exchanging a single word with anyone in the lobby.
The moment he vanished from sight, Professor Edwin approached at a brisk pace.
Standing a short distance away from Clara, he spoke through subtle lip movements that resembled ventriloquism.
“Anything unusual?”
“Nothing in particular.”
“Same here.”
I shared every observation regarding him with Professor Edwin.
Talking things through hadn’t solved anything yet, but I intended to document every suspicious detail and use them to uncover his true identity.
He had only appeared in public a few months ago, yet the people of Etatina—at least those on the hill—already supported him.
If we opposed him simply because we disliked him, Professor Edwin and I would be the ones cast out.
As the person delivering the congratulatory speech, Professor Edwin sat in the very front row nearest the podium.
His seat wasn’t far from the one Eric had just rushed to prepare.
Since the two shared a significant connection, he had considered sitting beside Professor Edwin in hopes of gathering additional information.
After discussing it, however, they decided against it.
The assumption was simple.
At a public event filled with people, he would smile politely and behave flawlessly.
He wouldn’t make any mistakes.
No sooner had I finished seeing Professor Edwin off than a flood of university officials arrived after hearing rumors that he would be attending.
Most were people I had never spoken to during my time at the university.
They pushed forward anyone who had even the slightest connection to me and used them as excuses to approach.
“Congratulations on your marriage. It’s been a long time since I’ve attended a wedding of this scale.”
“I heard you used this venue for your own wedding as well. It’s an honor.”
“Hoho. That’s confidential information, you know. Who told him?”
“I imagine you did. You brag about your wife so much that it’s impossible to tell what’s secret and what isn’t anymore.”
Having taught at Etatina University for many years, they had formed their own circles and shared memories that meant nothing to me.
There were simply too many stories.
Too many conversations.
Too many years.
I had no real objection to their jokes.
Still, watching them discuss private memories among themselves in front of the groom—as though they had forgotten basic manners—made me oddly relieved that I hadn’t assigned seats.
Sometimes I wondered whether these people truly belonged to the old upper class.
“I hope you enjoy your time here, however brief it may be.”
I shook each hand in turn and ushered them inside.
They weren’t people worth lingering with.
Besides, I doubted they had come for me.
Like everyone else, they had likely come to see him.
The stream of guests continued without end.
A few were acquaintances of Clara’s.
Most, however, were members of the university community whose names neither Clara nor I even recognized.
It felt less like a wedding and more like a social gathering.
Occasionally, though, someone recognized Clara and discussed her research.
Those conversations always seemed to delight her.
After standing by her side the entire time, I stepped back and watched.
Seeing Clara proudly accept a business card at the end of one such discussion, I found myself thinking that perhaps organizing a similar event in the future wouldn’t be a bad idea.
After spending what felt like an eternity greeting guests in the lobby, I checked the time.
Guest admission had ended.
Now Clara and I needed to prepare for our entrance.
“I’m going to the restroom.”
With a clutch bag tucked beneath her arm, Clara headed toward a corner of the venue.
Several staff members followed.
“I’ll come with you.”
She turned back, puzzled.
“Why have you been glued to my side all day? I can go with them.”
“If anything happens, I want to be there immediately.”
“You don’t need to be so nervous today.”
Then she looked ahead again and added quietly,
“Though I’m happy you haven’t forgotten your proposal.”
The proposal where I swore to use everything I had to protect her.
Of course I remembered.
But that wasn’t the only reason.
Today, more than ever, I intended to stay by Clara’s side.
Call it overprotective if you want.
By the time I started looking for her after something happened, it would already be too late.
There was no telling when—or how—he might approach her.
I waited outside the restroom with the assistants.
After Clara emerged, we moved to the waiting room.
I adjusted my clothes.
Clara touched up her makeup one final time.
Then the staff guided us to a separate entrance reserved exclusively for the bride and groom.
The stars of the day.
Standing before the doors, Clara took a deep breath.
The hand holding her bouquet trembled ever so slightly.
The staff encouraged her, telling her not to be nervous and simply enjoy the moment.
Clara forced a smile.
I extended my hand to her as though inviting her to a dance.
As she reached for it, she lowered her gaze.
Behind her lashes and the curve of her nose, her lips moved silently several times.
As though casting a spell on herself.
As though telling herself she could do this.
I tightened my grip around her hand.
“Well? Ready?”
“…Yeah.”
Since Clara had gone quiet from nerves, I gave the signal on her behalf.
The staff relayed instructions through their radios.
Soon, one of the coordinators emerged and beckoned us forward.
I took Clara’s hand and stepped ahead.
Meeting my eyes, she inhaled deeply once more before giving a small nod.
Then she matched my pace.
“The bride and groom will now enter!”
The doors opened.
Thunderous applause and cheers erupted from within.
The first thing I saw was the front row of VIP seats.
Keeping pace with Clara, I walked past them toward the center.
Though she had insisted she was nervous, she still found time to wave at the guests while holding her bouquet.
That gesture felt unmistakably Clara.
The person I was most wary of sat directly in the center of the front row.
Ironically, I was the one who had placed him there.
Had I not been watching him myself, I never would have given him that seat.
He sat to the right of the center aisle.
Professor Edwin sat opposite him on the left.
I had wanted to invite another mentor as well, but with him already present, bringing someone from below the hill would only have caused trouble.
Regrettable as it was, I had no choice but to accept it.
Clara stopped at the center and turned toward the guests.
I followed.
“Please welcome the couple with an even louder round of applause!”
At the emcee’s prompting, we bowed.
Holding her bouquet in one hand while remaining linked to me with the other, Clara greeted the guests.
Every slight movement released the faint scent of sandalwood from the perfume prepared specifically for today.
I met the eyes of my classmates seated in the second row and couldn’t help smiling awkwardly.
They answered with exaggerated cheers and encouraging gestures.
I returned the greeting with my free hand.
Next, I acknowledged Clara’s advisor seated beside Professor Edwin.
Although we weren’t close, we had met several times before the wedding.
He was an ambitious man determined to continue overseeing Clara’s complicated research even through her postdoctoral studies.
He applauded with a warm smile.
Then there was Professor Edwin.
It wouldn’t be an exaggeration to say he had filled the role of a father figure during my years at Etatina College.
Among all the people I had met since arriving in Etatina, he was one of those to whom I owed the greatest debt.
So after bowing to all the guests, I gave him an additional nod of respect.
Professor Edwin smiled brightly and applauded louder than anyone.
Finally, my gaze settled on him.
He was smiling too.
A perfect smile.
Bright, effortless, revealing neat rows of white teeth.
Given the situation, I kept my own expression steady.
Yet even I could tell the smile on my face felt forced.
Before anyone noticed, I looked away.
And then—
Without warning—
Fragments of color burst through my mind like a raging tide.
They tore through my thoughts, rummaging through my memories before exploding outward.
Holographic afterimages flooded my vision.
A woman with long, wavy red hair.
A woman turning as the wind swept through her hair.
A smiling woman.
A whispering woman.
Eyes like sunlight.
Cherry-colored lips.
—You know, Dominic…
—I will be your strength…
Like damaged reels of old film, the images flickered with uneven quality.
Scenes cut off halfway.
Jumping forward without warning.
A bright crimson palace.
A smiling face.
A woman running.
Books stacked all the way to the ceiling.
Cherry-colored lips whispering something.
Ten children passing by in an instant.
—I like that book!
—No way! I am… going to surpass…
A familiar anatomy textbook.
A young child clutching a scalpel.
A horribly melted face.
Tiny trembling hands like fern leaves.
Someone’s footsteps approaching.
A little girl giggling.
—You came because you wanted to see it, didn’t you?
—I don’t like it… Stay away!
The screaming girl became the final frame.
Then the holographic images plunged into darkness.
The screening was over.
These weren’t my memories.
Aside from the crimson palace, I had never seen any of these places.
Nor were they viewed through my own eyes.
It was like watching a trailer assembled from fragments of someone else’s life.
This wasn’t the first time it had happened.
The first time, the crushing pressure in my head had left me dizzy and disoriented.
Not anymore.
Now I was familiar enough with it to focus on the countless guests beyond the visions.
And because I had seen it before—
I already knew what came next.
The film ended with the image of me standing in an airport, searching for a taxi on my very first day in Etatina.
