Chapter 15
“What do you mean by that?”
I meant the real reason I approached him.
“It was me… I was the one who came to meet the evil spirit in Room 333…”
I bit my lower lip, then finally let out the rest.
“I used your sincerity.”
Sir Henry’s eyes widened. I confessed everything from start to finish.
“Madam Blavatsky hosting the academic meeting—that was entirely to create a connection between us.”
I explained how I had used my longtime friend Helena Blavatsky to artificially forge a relationship with him.
How I had invited him to that hastily arranged academic gathering and deliberately tried to catch his attention.
And in the end, I even accepted his serious confession under the premise of “a meeting with marriage in mind.”
“In the end, I just played with your feelings, Henry.”
It felt as though a heavy stone were crushing my chest.
Guilt overwhelmed me—for using the sincerity of a man who had lived a life of endless misfortune with unwavering righteousness.
That guilt made it difficult to offer even a proper apology, but surprisingly, Henry Jekyll’s expression brightened.
“Then… are you not angry at my faults?”
“…What?”
“I….”
The young man paused, struggling to speak, then finally managed the next words.
“While possessed by an evil spirit, I turned into ‘Edward Hyde’ and committed terrible acts.”
Terrible acts. That really was the most accurate way to describe it.
Edward Hyde, through Henry Jekyll’s body, had committed inhuman deeds…
Though, truthfully, it could have been much worse.
Thankfully, the law had only barely been skirted.
I could only assume that Henry Jekyll’s own strong moral compass had suppressed Hyde’s wicked instincts.
“As I said before, that wasn’t your fault, Henry. So I don’t hold it against you.”
I spoke with sincerity, firmly and clearly, but Henry still looked at me as if he couldn’t believe it.
“You’re saying… you can accept a part of me that even I can’t acknowledge?”
That wasn’t a part of you—it was merely the shadow of a spirit.
That’s what I wanted to say, but it didn’t seem like it would help this young man, who was looking at me with such a sorrowful face.
“Henry, all humans are weak. So…”
I decided to support him in a different way.
“Why not try acknowledging the unfamiliar desires at the bottom of your heart… just as they are, from time to time?”
“…”
“Everyone has both good and evil within them. The effort to restrain yourself while navigating between those extremes…”
Henry stared at me with unreadable eyes.
“…isn’t that what makes us human?”
As if he had never thought of that before, Henry opened his eyes wide.
“Sometimes, instead of suppressing your desires, accept them. Not always, of course—but sometimes, you need to be honest with yourself, don’t you?”
“Emily…”
All he could do was call my name.
The way he tried to hold back the emotions that were welling up—it was strangely endearing, even lovely.
“You know that was the first time you called me just Emily, not ‘Miss Emily’?”
At my words, he blushed deeply and then suddenly looked at me with a serious expression.
“Then just this once… right here and now…”
I met his gaze, wondering what he would say next.
“Would you allow me to show you my desire as it is?”
“…Pardon?”
Beyond his eyes, dark as the midnight sea, I caught a glimpse of a burning desire.
My heart skipped a beat, tension rising, but I couldn’t take back the words I had spoken.
“Go ahead.”
As I responded resolutely, Sir Henry stepped closer and leaned in.
His manner was polite and considerate, but the light in his sharp eyes resembled that of a predator zeroing in on its prey.
Standing before a man radiating raw masculine energy, I found it oddly difficult to breathe as usual.
His well-built frame emitted a sexy, sensual musk.
As his tall shadow fell over me and I stiffened, his large hand gently took mine.
…Then, with a soft smooch, his hot, tender lips landed on the back of my hand.
‘All that for just a kiss on the hand?’
I naturally pulled my hand back without showing surprise—or disappointment.
All that tension now seemed silly, though Sir Henry himself was blushing furiously to the tips of his ears.
“I-I mean… I was just trying to be honest… I hope it didn’t upset you?”
A tall, handsome man flustered and red-faced—it felt like an unfair kind of cuteness.
“Henry.”
Without thinking, I spoke.
“Our fake relationship may be over, but… how about we stay good friends?”
“Would that… really be alright?”
“Of course.”
Henry smiled brightly.
“You’re that happy?”
As I joked at his beaming expression, Henry shyly looked down and replied.
“Just being able to keep in touch with you is wonderful… but the fact that there’s still hope… that makes me so happy.”
He looked so lovable when he said that. Honestly, I had to suppress the urge to embrace him.
‘But right now, I’m not in a place where I can accept anyone.’
It wasn’t that I still had feelings for Randolph.
He had died over ten years ago.
My memories with Randolph were faded fragments of time, and the brilliant emotions I once felt were now buried deep in my heart.
Still, inside me, everything was dry—like a parched wasteland.
I didn’t have the room to entrust myself to the uncertain emotion called love.
Even if someone were to offer me love without expecting anything in return, I would only end up hurting them.
‘Isn’t speaking of love in this state a kind of deception?’
I smiled bitterly.
Anyway, the evil spirit “Eddy” had left Henry’s body—that alone meant my job here was done.
“I think it’s time for me to go.”
I rose to my feet as I spoke.
* * *
As Emily stood up, slightly wobbling, Henry naturally reached out to support her.
Then, awkwardly stepping back, he added:
“Then I’ll let you go now.”
“Thank you, Henry.”
Emily turned to him once more and smiled sweetly.
“Let’s meet again sometime, Henry.”
With those words, she exited the room.
Even after she disappeared and the door shut with a loud thunk, Henry couldn’t take his eyes off it for a long time.
“…”
The faint scent of violets from her hand lingered in his memory.
The soft texture of her skin, like that of a newborn baby, and the warm temperature he had felt—he couldn’t get them out of his mind.
Sigh…
He exhaled a sigh of lingering emotion and composed himself.
Then, turning slightly, he caught sight of himself in the mirror.
Henry walked up to the mirror.
The tall and sturdy build inherited from his grandfather, the large hands and feet, and the bold features reminiscent of his father in youth—all cast in a melancholic gaze.
Staring silently at his reflection, he murmured,
“…How pathetic.”
The dark stubble and the tear stains on his cheek somehow canceled out all that overflowing masculinity.
Henry smirked at his own reflection.
As his thin red lips twisted, his expression slowly changed, and soon—
“Not bad at all.”
His voice had become slightly lower and huskier, and his accent took on a rough edge, like something from the slums.
Henry—no, “Hyde”—licked his dry lips.
As though deeply regretting having let Emily go.
“A kiss on the back of the hand? How pitifully tame.”
To “Hyde,” she was nothing less than a savior.
Not only had she exorcised the vengeful ghost of that damned father who had tried to possess Jekyll’s body—
“…but she also made Jekyll more willing to listen to me.”
Who knew when Henry had first become Hyde?
One thing was certain:
“Why not try acknowledging the unfamiliar desires at the bottom of your heart… just as they are?”
Hyde, the embodiment of desire within Henry Langham’s subconscious, had found it easier to coexist with “Jekyll” thanks to those words from Emily.
Now, Jekyll and he could perhaps get along.
Unlike before, when he had to fight fiercely to take over the body, now they could simply trade places as needed.
“In the end, it was all just a matter of timing.”
Henry Jekyll’s biological father, Edward Hyde, had transferred his consciousness into his young son’s body and wreaked havoc.
Even after death, he turned into a spirit and haunted Jekyll endlessly.
Hyde sneered at his own reflection, one that closely resembled Edward Hyde in his youth.
“Thank you so much for bringing me into this world… you bastard of a father.”
If Henry’s first inheritance from that garbage of a father was his stunning looks—
Then the second had to be Hyde himself, who used that sculpted face to strike from the shadows.
Henry Jekyll Langham had a tragic childhood by any measure.
Losing his mother early, exploited by his father, and tormented by relatives.
What child’s heart wouldn’t grow dark under such circumstances?
Edward Hyde’s spirit entered his mind and tried to take control, awakening the shadows within the boy.
And thus, Hyde—his second self—was born.
Hyde was the boy’s only escape from the suffocating morality of Puritan ideals.
“Henry, you are the disgrace of our family! How could such a wretch be born from Aria’s womb!”
Baron Wilfred Langham, Aria’s older brother and holder of nothing but the family title, would verbally crush the boy’s spirit at every turn.
Whenever Henry would retreat into the attic to cry and soothe his wounded heart, Hyde would emerge to take control.
“Agh! Wh-who put a rat on my plate?!”
The punishment didn’t fit the crime, but at least it was a small act of vengeance.
There were many such instances.
In his private school years, when a classmate spread rumors about his birth—
While “Jekyll” stayed in his room reciting prayers, “Hyde” stormed off to deliver justice.
…by stomping on the mouth that dared utter such vile words.
“H-Henry, p-please… I’m sorry, just let go of my leg…”
“Didn’t you laugh and ignore me when I begged you to stop before?”
In the presence of Hyde, eyes glinting with murderous intent, his classmates learned what a true predator looked like.
“Regret the reversal of fortune, do you?”
He would grin with genuine pleasure when unleashing his rage.
Thanks to that, Henry’s school life had become much smoother… even if he never knew the real reason.
