Although Jooyoung was not in the best condition, ironically Joohyun should still consider herself lucky that she still had one surviving sibling, because some people were even less fortunate. For example, Lee Sunmi, who was just as determined as Joohyun was to avenge her sister’s death but still had no clue as to who the murderer was.

There was no way Sunmi was going to lose hope, though. She had already come this far; surely she would find more resources at her disposal now that she was married to Lord Kwon. Their wedding took place rather quietly given that the royal court was generally in a somber mood due to Prince Jooyoung’s condition. Marital traditions were observed out of necessity, the legal procedures meticulously followed, though celebrations were generally kept subtle and to a minimum. Neither the bride nor the groom minded it; it was an arranged marriage anyway and they had little concern for grand and elaborate ceremonies.

The couple tried to get along with each other despite their . Thankfully, their efforts were met with decent success. At least, they could manage to be civil with each other without coming off as dispassionate. Sometimes, their interactions were even moderately enjoyable, which neither of them expected.

Sunmi was more proactive in her attempts to get to know her new husband better, even making interesting discoveries about him from time to time. He certainly managed to get her full attention when he revealed that he was going to go watch a play, and invited her to join him. She did not hesitate to say yes, especially when the play he spoke of was delivered by the troupe that her sister was an integral part of till the very day she died.

“How did you like the play just now?” He asked after the performance as the two of them took a stroll, trying all sorts of snacks from the small booths lined up on both sides of the streets.

“The actors did a wonderful job,” she commented. “Very creative with the props. They seem to have upgraded their stage — maybe they managed to get in touch with a very generous sponsor.”

Lord Kwon observed his new wife closely. She was introduced to him as a dancer, but she seemed to know more about the troupe than any other ordinary dancer at court would. He decided he had better get one of his agents to do a background check on her after all. Initially he was not bothered to, because it was already so obvious that she was Joohyun’s spy. But what if she was here for another ulterior motive as well?

“Is there something on my face, my lord?” She asked gingerly upon noticing her husband’s continued stare, yet still munching on the candied fruits that she got from a very persuasive hawker.

“Nothing. It’s just that you remind me of someone,” he answered stiffly, finally transferring his stare elsewhere.

“May I ask who?”

“My late wife.”

Sunmi swallowed the slice of apple in and could not help but snort. “If Your Lordship intends to use me as a replacement for your late wife, I’m afraid you’ll be disappointed. I cannot possibly compare to Her Highness.”

“I know,” he replied, breaking eye contact and keeping his eyes on the road instead. “I was reminded of her because, like you, she also loved watching these plays.”

“What about Your Lordship, then? Are you enjoying yourself too? Or do you just watch plays as a way to remember Her Highness?”

“Even before she and I even came into each other’s lives, I’ve always enjoyed watching plays,” he answered, recalling that it was because of a play that he and the Princess made their acquaintance all those years ago. But that was a story for another time as he decided to steer the conversation in a different direction. “Though lately, not so much.”

“How come?” She frowned, but not surprised enough to stop her from finishing her food. “Did something bad happen?”

“I’m afraid so, yes. After all, it makes no sense for one of the most popular actresses in town to just vanish into thin air.”

This time Sunmi completely froze, but had to right away regain her composure despite her racing heart. He was talking about an extremely popular actress’ disappearance, and she knew that her sister fit that description. If he did not know that she was dead, it did make sense for him to think that she had gone missing. But was it really her? Could it really have been her? Why in the first place would he be so concerned about a commoner anyway, despite her impressive popularity? Sunmi had so many questions, yet the only utterance she could produce was monosyllabic.

“Who?” She asked, her voice becoming squeakier than usual.

Lord Kwon looked at his young wife in suspicion, prolonging his stare as he tried to connect the dots that he should have connected a long time ago. In his eyes, Sunmi’s behavior was neither destructive nor socially unacceptable, but was also so erratic and unpredictable. It was easy to think that a pretty young lady like her would want nothing more than to gain affluence and status through her aristocratic husband, but she hardly seemed like the materialistic or unscrupulous type. He would know, because he had seen those women in many of his allies’ — and enemies’ — wives and concubines. He had yet to figure out what Sunmi truly wanted. It kept him both intrigued and wary at the same time, and he could not remember the last time he felt that way toward a woman.

“No one that you ought to be concerned about,” he answered, deliberately sounding dispassionate. Although he quickened his pace as if wanting to disengage from this topic, he was actually trying to test just how invested she was. And just as he expected, she caught up speedily.

“What do you mean?” She demanded adamantly. “How can someone just vanish like that? It’s not possible.”

“Well then, what do you think happened?” He questioned.

“I…” she gulped uneasily. “Do you think maybe she’s dead?”

“Her troupe members claim that she moved to another part of the country with her family,” he revealed, still keeping his eyes on her to closely monitor her reactions as he gradually disclosed more information, piece by piece. “But when I queried further about their destination, their accounts became inconsistent. Someone has got to be lying. The truth is something so awful that they felt the need to cover it up, but did a poor job.”

Sunmi turned pale. It had to be her sister. She was acquainted with the people that her sister used to work with, and knew a thing or two about how they had had to explain her mysterious disappearance to people who had been asking about her. Lord Kwon was surely not the first, and surely would not be the last.

“How do you know all these things, my lord?” She pressed on, still unable to use her normal voice. This could easily have been interpreted as a sign that she was frightened, but actually she was just emotional. She had had to do so much just to collect more information to conduct investigations into her sister’s death, and finally she was having some relatively significant success because it seemed Lord Kwon did have some information to offer. Everything that she had done so far, including but not limited to passing the dance auditions and getting married to a stranger — she felt more strongly than ever that all of it was going to pay off. Not immediately, but at least she was beginning to see the light at the end of the tunnel. There was hope after all.

“It’s really none of your business,” he insisted.

Sunmi felt as though she was going to lose her mind because of the way her husband was jumping back and forth between being willing and unwilling to disclose details. No longer able to control her impulses, she grabbed his arm and dragged him into an alley where they would not be getting in any vendor’s way.

“Tell me,” she hissed, without any intention of letting go of her husband’s arm and no longer mindful of the formal tone that she ought to be using. “The actress you speak of, what’s her name? It’s Lee Eunmi, isn’t it?”

He gl