chapter 22
Unlike Fiorentia, Theodor does not know how things will unfold in the future.
If he had the ability to see the future, none of this would have happened in the first place. He wouldn’t be foolish enough to walk into this damned mansion with his own two feet, knowing he would be betrayed and abandoned here.
And if he knew that he was actually the one in the superior position, he would probably be acting much more relaxed right now.
Fiorentia cut off her growing thoughts.
More than anything, even if I try to explain everything with words, I doubt he would believe me so easily.
So what she needed to do right now was not explain things with words.
She had to show him through actions and build trust that way.
That was why she had gone all the way to the main building, even though she knew she wouldn’t gain much from it.
While doing that, I need to take control of this relationship with Theodor.
And if possible, it would be even better if she could soften his sharp and stubborn personality.
Anyway.
For those reasons, Fiorentia deliberately ignored Theodor’s gaze as he followed her around like he was observing her.
If he has something to say, he’ll speak first.
And as expected—
After a tense battle of nerves, it was Theodor who raised the white flag first.
“…Hey.”
He called out to Fiorentia in an unpleasant tone.
Not used to lowering himself, are you?
Fiorentia let out a small scoff.
There was also something she didn’t like.
How many times do I have to tell him?
She had asked him several times to call her by her name. Being called “hey,” “you,” or “over there” every time honestly wasn’t pleasant.
Calling someone—and being called by someone—was meaningful. In an awkward relationship, there were few methods as simple and quick for building closeness.
That was why, even though she hadn’t been given permission to call him by a nickname, she sometimes carefully crossed the line and did it anyway.
Even if it didn’t seem effective right now, it would surely build a foundation over time.
I have no intention of breaking him harshly like Desdemona did…
But he did need to face the reality of his situation, at least a little.
So she decided on a small act of mischief: she wouldn’t respond until he called her by name.
Even though Theodor had called her, Fiorentia did not react immediately. As if she hadn’t heard him because his voice was too soft, she remained seated at her vanity, carefully brushing her half-dried hair.
“Hey.”
His voice grew louder.
But still—not her name.
Fiorentia kept brushing her hair without responding.
Behind her calm expression, her eyes moved quickly as she stole a glance at Theodor’s reflection in the mirror.
As expected, his face looked completely irritated.
At this point, it seemed Theodor had realized her intention.
A rough sigh escaped his lips.
“Seriously…”
He glared briefly at the back of her head, clearly annoyed. But this time, the words did not come out as easily as he expected.
After several small movements of his lips, her name finally slipped out.
“Hey. Fiorentia.”
Oh…
For a moment, Fiorentia’s hand paused.
She didn’t know why.
Was it because his voice, when calling her name, was lower than she expected?
Maybe. But she couldn’t quite explain it.
One thing was certain: there was weight in the way he called her.
What was that?
When she still didn’t respond and just sat there silently, Theodor lost his patience.
“I called you by name like you wanted. Now will you at least look at me?”
Only then did Fiorentia move, as if released from a spell.
She deliberately set down her brush slowly and turned toward him at a relaxed pace.
As if he had been waiting for that moment, Theodor leaned his upper body toward her. The chains on his wrists and ankles clashed together, making a chilling metallic sound.
For a brief second, Fiorentia felt such strong dislike for that sound that she almost had the urge to remove the shackles restraining him.
No. Not yet. This isn’t the time. Stop thinking nonsense.
That man still did not trust her.
So she could not show excessive kindness first.
In this situation, that would only make him more suspicious.
“Why did you call me?”
“Ha…”
Theodor let out a long, heavy breath as if holding something back. He ground his teeth before finally getting to the point.
He gestured toward her face with his chin.
“Are you really… not going to take off that mask?”
He probably thought he was hiding his impatience, but irritation and frustration were clearly present in his voice.
“I wondered what you were going to ask. Shouldn’t you be used to it by now?”
“How do you get used to something like that?”
“Is that so?”
Fiorentia replied indifferently, then nodded as if she understood.
Come to think of it, even the servants of the Marcella family, who had seen her for much longer than Theodor, called her the Ghost Lady and avoided her.
From a normal perspective, it would be hard to accept.
As she continued thinking that, Theodor spoke again, unable to hold back his frustration.
“Why the hell do you keep wearing that damned mask?”
“….”
Fiorentia closed her lips.
For a moment, she almost snapped, Do you think I wear this because I like it? The words rose to her throat, but she wisely swallowed them.
However, she couldn’t stop a certain scene from the original story from flashing through her mind.
<Desdemona had been forced to her knees.
Theodor raised his sword high, ready to kill her.
But at that moment, Desdemona grabbed his ankle and shouted,
“My face is the same as that child’s!”
Theodor’s hand, about to strike down, hesitated slightly.
Sensing that crack in his firm resolve, Desdemona spoke rapidly, like a madwoman, spilling words he hadn’t even asked for.
“It’s true! The child you longed to see—Fiorentia’s face is this face!”
“What… nonsense are you talking about?”
Theodor asked in a hoarse voice, as if someone were choking him.
Seeing the crack in his composure, Desdemona’s lips curled upward.
With a face soaked in tears, she smiled brightly. It was a truly grotesque expression.
“I’m not lying. I’ll return the memory I sealed.”
On the day Fiorentia died, Desdemona erased Theodor’s memory with a spell.
Because after Fiorentia had taken her last breath, he had lifted her mask and seen her face.
She had cut out only that memory, as if carving it away with a knife. That was why, even now, Theodor still looked confused by her words.
“Try to remember. The face of the child you saw.”
Before Theodor could stop her, a sinister light flowed from Desdemona’s fingertips and seeped into his body.
“Ugh—”
A splitting headache attacked him, and the fragmented memories of that day—stolen by Desdemona—came together to form a single face.
Fiorentia’s pale face, the one that never opened her eyes again no matter how desperately he called her name.
And over that face, Desdemona’s face overlapped perfectly.
