Chapter 32
What was strange about the head maid’s behavior?
Desdemona tapped her red lips with her finger and frowned.
“She seems really absent-minded these days.”
“She has a lot of work. I guess taking care of me makes her even busier. I try not to bother her too much…”
Fiorentia chose her words carefully, making sure not to upset Desdemona.
“She’s here a long time, but the reports she gives aren’t very detailed either.”
Ah.
Fiorentia bit her lip. She had been greedy in experimenting to increase endurance time, and now she was facing the consequences.
But staying silent would only make Desdemona more suspicious.
“I can still fix this,” Fiorentia thought.
She spoke up naturally.
“The head maid checks everything carefully. She comes every day even though she’s busy, and she looks around my room to make sure nothing is missing. I think that’s why she acts like that.”
“Every day? In person?”
“Yes, sister. Esther is very diligent.”
“Hmm, I see.”
Desdemona’s response seemed to match what she expected. Either it was close to what she had in mind, or it didn’t differ much from what the maid had said.
Her tone relaxed as if she hadn’t been worried at all.
“True, Esther does take on too much work.”
She didn’t bring up the topic any further, as if it was just small talk.
Desdemona glanced at Fiorentia’s room. There wasn’t much to see—it was bare compared to her own room.
“Do you need anything else?”
“What could I need, sister?”
Fiorentia answered calmly and politely.
“I’m grateful just to have a place to stay protected from rain and wind.”
Desdemona snorted and looked at Theodore, sitting like a doll on the sofa.
His eyes were red like Fiorentia’s, but darker, and a fierce glint flashed briefly.
Desdemona slowly approached him and looked down arrogantly.
She glanced back and forth between Fiorentia and Theodore, then suddenly asked a sharp question:
“You’re still wearing your mask inside the room?”
Fiorentia’s throat felt dry.
Right—wearing a mask in front of a lifeless doll did seem strange.
“I can handle this,” she told herself, trying to stay calm.
“Yes,” she answered naturally.
“Even in front of a doll?”
Desdemona’s gaze didn’t leave her, as if she wanted to test the truth. Her eyes were sharp, despite the red curve of her lips.
Fiorentia felt exposed again.
‘Learned helplessness, fear… maybe that’s it.’
She consciously tensed her body to avoid shrinking away.
“Of course. You told me to. I always remember it’s part of me now.”
Desdemona’s lips curved upward.
“Good attitude. Always remember that.”
Turning her gaze back to Theodore, Desdemona sniffed and asked,
“How about this one? Is it good to play with?”
“It’s… better than nothing.”
“Of course. Its appearance alone is impressive.”
Desdemona clicked her tongue and started touching Theodore’s face as if it were delicate porcelain.
“Temper was awful, but the looks… you really have to admire it.”
Her eyes softened like she was mesmerized, stroking his face gently. Then suddenly, she grabbed his hair tightly.
“…!”
Fiorentia’s hands, still holding his, tensed without her realizing it.
But Theodore didn’t move at all, like he had eaten some deadly poison in advance.
‘Is that even possible?’
Fiorentia watched nervously.
“This is strange,” Desdemona said.
Her heart sank.
“What do you mean?”
Fiorentia asked cautiously, hiding her worry.
Desdemona was still focused on Theodore, so she didn’t notice Fiorentia’s reaction.
“Other subjects die quickly when they lose their soul. Why is this one surviving so long?”
“….”
“What did I miss?”
Fiorentia’s eyes wavered.
But Theodore remained still, breathing evenly, unmoving. Like a piece of poisonous mushroom.
Then he suddenly asked Fiorentia,
“Did you notice anything unusual?”
“…Yes. Because he’s a doll.”
“Hmm.”
Desdemona made a dissatisfied sound, then laughed bitterly.
“Is it because I’m a Beringham?”
Her smirk was mocking as she brought her face close to Theodore.
“Poor thing. No one even looks for him in Beringham.”
Desdemona laughed sharply, and Fiorentia held her breath.
She couldn’t help but check Theodore’s face, worried he might be hurt by Desdemona’s words.
‘Is he okay?’
Apparently he was fine—he didn’t move.
Desdemona let go of his hair with a cruel laugh.
“If only you’d been obedient, I might have liked you. Hmph.”
She turned away as if nothing had happened, but suddenly stopped.
Before Fiorentia could understand, she spun back toward Theodore and raised her arm high.
“How dare you bite me! I get angrier thinking about it.”
“…!”
Fiorentia hadn’t meant to, but her body moved first.
She blocked Theodore instinctively, and—SLAP!
A loud crack echoed as her head snapped back.
‘…Ah.’
Stars flashed in her vision, her balance gone.
When she recovered, she was on the floor, hands supporting her.
‘I fell after all.’
A bitter taste filled her mouth.
‘Such a reckless woman. How hard did she hit me?’
As she inhaled deeply, she noticed something strange.
The air felt too fresh.
‘…The mask? It’s gone?’
She realized the mask had flown off.
‘Oh no. Where did it go?’
Her long hair blocked her view, making it hard to see.
Fiorentia frantically searched the floor, desperate not to let Theodore see her bare face.
With her limited vision, she couldn’t focus properly.
