Chapter 26:
Helena nodded and replied.
“Back then, I just thought you were making excuses because you didn’t want to talk. But now that I see you… it really seems like you couldn’t remember.”
“…”
I bit my lip and sank into thought.
What Helena had confessed was shocking, and at the same time, it didn’t make sense logically.
‘Why Enoch Bowen?’
At that time, I didn’t know him at all.
And now, more than ten years later, we’re more like enemies.
…After all, I’m currently tracking his traces.
Seeing the darkness cloud my expression, Helena let out a sigh.
“Emily, I’m saying this out of concern… but you don’t need to force yourself to remember what you’ve forgotten.”
I widened my eyes as if to ask what she meant, and she explained further.
“The human brain tends to erase memories that are harmful to protect itself.”
“…But.”
“Sometimes it’s better to leave those memories buried, that’s what I mean.”
Helena helped me up and led me to the bed.
“You’re extremely pale. Why don’t you get some sleep?”
Come to think of it, the headache was still there.
‘Sometimes it’s better to leave those memories buried.’
I nodded and quietly lay down, and Helena smiled as she tucked the blanket over me.
“Good night.”
Her soft voice somehow sounded like a lullaby, and I slowly closed my eyes.
How long had I slept like that?
When I opened my eyes again, the headache was completely gone.
Feeling refreshed in both body and mind, I recalled the order given by the “Yellow King.”
‘Expose to the world the conspiracy surrounding the Living Statue.’
The king had given me two weeks.
I had thought of it as a generous mission—with a reward of 14 extra days of survival if I succeeded.
‘Jimmy’s death.’
After experiencing that horrific event, when I looked back with regained memory, I finally understood why the king had given such a vague hint.
It was a task too difficult to handle alone.
“…I guess I have no choice.”
I sat up and took out the invitation to check the time and place.
Knock knock—Sally entered with a light knock.
“My lady, shall we start getting ready?”
“Ready for what?”
“…Surely you haven’t forgotten your date with Sir Henry later, have you?”
“Me? A date?”
I made a date?
I stared at her wide-eyed, and Sally let out an exasperated sigh.
“You promised to ride horses together, remember?”
“Oh, that.”
“You may not think it’s a date, but Sir Henry definitely does.”
Her slightly scolding tone made me chuckle.
Sally sat me in front of the vanity, eager to do my makeup.
“Leave it to me!”
She was actually pretty good at it—how did I know?
“…Emily?”
The look on Sir Henry’s face when he saw me downstairs,
Was like he was staring at a stranger in awe.
A few days ago, in the evening—
“Hyde” had been displeased with the events at the time.
‘Henry, I was in front of the medical building at Edinburgh University—’
It wasn’t just hearing from someone else that Emily was with another man.
‘So it was Jimmy who had dinner with her?’
That fact had weighed on Henry’s mind, and his real feelings had slipped out.
Seeing himself act like such a petty man left “Hyde” deeply frustrated.
…Though, in truth, he was just as curious about who the man with Emily was.
‘Henry, look me in the eyes.’
“…”
Suddenly, a soft hand cupped his chin and turned his head.
Emily’s face filled his vision, only inches away.
The scent of wildflowers around her was suffocating, and—
‘Tell me what you’re thinking…’
His heart thudded wildly.
…So loud, in fact, that he couldn’t even hear what she was saying properly.
At some point, the desires of “Jekyll” and “Hyde” had become one.
Henry swallowed hard, his thick Adam’s apple twitching.
He couldn’t stop noticing the warmth of Emily’s hand still on his face.
When he turned, he saw her unusually slender and pale wrist.
‘If I just grabbed both of her arms right now—’
Just as “Hyde’s” desire threatened to burst loose like a runaway horse—
‘Stop.’
“Jekyll” seized control of the body again, blocking the thought.
“Hyde,” having lost his chance, licked his dry lips with regret.
That had been just a few days ago.
“…”
And now, in this moment—
“Jekyll” and “Hyde” shared the same desire:
…To make the woman standing there entirely theirs.
“Henry, why are you looking at me like that? …Does it not suit me?”
When he stared too intensely, Emily laughed awkwardly and did a small twirl.
She looked beautiful in anything, but today, she had far exceeded expectations.
Still gazing at her, Henry finally opened his mouth.
“…It’s not that.”
His voice came out thick with restraint, even as his eyes devoured every inch of her.
Today, Emily wore a perfect example of hunting attire.
A simple hat with a few platinum blond strands peeking out, and beneath that, a radiant face that no amount of clothing could hide.
“On the contrary.”
“On the contrary?”
“You’re truly…”
A plain white blouse under a hunting jacket, and wide, checkered trousers—an outfit not unlike what the men wore for hunting.
‘I’ve seen her in dresses more often.’
For a woman to wear trousers in stiff London society could easily become scandalous.
Her nonchalance in wearing men’s attire felt all the more provocative.
“…Absolutely stunning.”
Between the loosely fastened collar, an elegant neckline reminiscent of a swan was revealed.
“Hyde” had to suppress the quiet urge rising in him—he wanted to sink his teeth into that graceful curve.
But Emily, oblivious to his inner struggle, responded cheerfully.
“Thank you.”
“Then…”
Henry stepped forward and took her hand. He lifted the soft back of her hand to his lips—
And kissed it just a bit longer, and just a bit more sensually, than polite manners allowed.
“Shall we go?”
Emily smiled as if nothing was wrong and pointed to the door.
Henry, feigning calm, escorted her outside the mansion.
But deep inside, “Hyde” could only soothe his regret.
‘It’s not time yet.’
He would wait just a little longer—until this relationship fully ripened.
I was now riding alongside Sir Henry through a secluded hunting ground behind the country house.
“Shall we pick up the pace?”
I nodded at his suggestion, and he smiled, then galloped ahead.
Not to be outdone, I urged my horse forward.
Neigh!
With a loud whinny, my horse accelerated.
Gallop, gallop.
The wind rushed past me as I rode at full speed.
Yet even as we dashed through the hunting grounds, I couldn’t stop thinking about the horrific experience before my regression.
‘What on earth was that?’
A strange ritual—cutting open the abdomen, injecting some fluid, smearing crushed herbs on the face.
The bizarre language that even my well-traveled ears didn’t recognize.
Who was that gravedigger, acting as if all this were normal?
Most importantly…
The corpse that suddenly sat upright in the coffin after a chant that sounded like a curse.
‘Could that really be some kind of necromancy?’
I bit my lip and furrowed my brow without realizing it.
Then Henry rode up beside me and spoke.
“What’s got you thinking so hard?”
Maybe it was because we had galloped across a wide field at full speed—
His cheeks were pleasantly flushed.
“Oh, it’s just…”
Despite his sturdy build, there was something boyish about his face that lifted my mood.
“I can’t stop thinking about something I read in a book.”
I briefly summarized what I’d experienced a few hours earlier.
Of course, I framed it as something I’d read in a novel.
After hearing the whole story, Henry seemed to ponder for a moment, then said,
“That sounds oddly familiar.”
“Familiar?”
“Hmm, not sure how this will sound, but… since you know everything anyway, I’ll just speak honestly.”
After a moment of hesitation, he mentioned a very familiar name.
His father—Edward Hyde.
“When I was little, I sneaked into my father’s room just once.”
Edward Hyde, a fanatic affiliated with the Star’s Wisdom cult.
He kept that fact hidden from his family, spending hours every day alone in his study deep inside the mansion.
‘Henry. You must never, ever enter this room.’
It wasn’t just Henry.
No one—not even the maids cleaning the house—was allowed inside.
That forbidden sanctum, off-limits to everyone but his father, stirred young Henry’s curiosity.
‘Just a peek should be okay, right?’
One evening—
Edward forgot to lock the door, and Henry tiptoed inside.
‘What’s Father doing…?’
His father, Edward Hyde, didn’t notice his son’s presence.
Muttering under his breath, he was focused on something.
In front of him sat what looked like a small altar.
‘What is that?’
Just as young Henry opened his mouth in wonder—
His father suddenly uttered a strange language.
“Wza-y’ei! Wza-y’ei! Y’kaa haa bho—ii”
…A deep, throat-scratching chant that echoed ominously.
The eeriness of it made Henry flinch.
And as he watched his father’s back, he suddenly felt a dreadful premonition.
Then—ssshk, a chilling sound swept past his ears, followed by a sharp, metallic stench.
