Chapter 11

Chapter 11

I turned and approached the wardrobe, blackened and burnt. Theo looked up at me with big, tear-filled eyes. I met his gaze.

“Theo. Tell me your story.”

The boy’s expression went blank with confusion.

“What are you doing?”

The priest stepped closer, his face etched with barely concealed bewilderment. “This method would be better,” he said.

“This way would be better.”

“……What.”

“Not driving it out—preventing it from becoming an evil spirit and helping it ascend.”

“……Can you see that soul?”

At his words, I gave a single nod and turned back to look at the child.

“Theo. Is there anything you want to say to me? Anything at all?”

“It hurts.”

The child’s tears began to fall again, thick and heavy. Then he started sobbing loudly, his cries echoing. I waited patiently until his trembling shoulders began to still. He wept for a long time, his breath coming in ragged gasps, and only after another long while did he manage to calm down, just a little.

“……Nothing will hurt you anymore. I’ll make sure no one ever hurts you again.”

“…….”

“Hey… Theo. Is there anything you want in the land of the living? I’ll help you.”

The boy blinked those pale green eyes at me, a few times. He looked awkward, like he wasn’t used to unexpected kindness. After a moment of hesitation, he opened his mouth very slowly.

“Young master.”

“Young master?”

“I have to see the young master.”

“Who is that?”

“The young master is the young master.”

If a dead soul’s wish was to see someone, that person had to be important to this child. But just the word ‘young master’ gave me far too little to go on.

“What’s this young master’s name?”

“Mom says I can’t. Can’t say the name carelessly.”

“What if you just tell me in secret?”

“…….”

The boy clamped his mouth shut again. A thoroughly defensive posture.

“Alright. Then where does this young master live?”

“The room with all the animals.”

“The room with all the animals? Where is that?”

“At the end on the right, in front of the angel.”

Every sentence out of this kid was a riddle. This conversation was harder than I’d expected.

Of course, Theo was young. He’d died young, at least. His time had stopped on the day of his death, right at that very moment. But even so, he had an odd slowness to him. I didn’t know what he’d been through in life, but his language development seemed behind his age. And his pronunciation was pretty unclear, too.

So I’d have to use this method after all… Well, I’d expected it to some degree, but I’d been trying to avoid it. Looks like I’m about to break Mom’s final instruction again: ‘Stop meddling in other people’s business.’

“Priest. When I give you a signal with my fingertip, please push the soul out of me.”

I turned back to the priest and spoke.

“You mean to attempt possession?”

“Something like it.”

“That’s only theoretically possible. Don’t even dream of it. It could be dangerous.”

He waved his hand dismissively right away.

“Is it dangerous?”

The Duke stepped in front of the priest and asked. He had his brow slightly furrowed, like he was a bit uneasy. In that moment, I had the incongruous thought that he’d be quite handsome if he’d just stop making that face.

“Don’t worry. It won’t be dangerous.”

“…….”

“And I might even find a way to help Theo ascend!”

I looked up at him as I spoke. Then I immediately turned my gaze to Theo.

“Theo. Come into me. So I can see your memories.”

The boy, who’d been curled up, straightened his back and came toward me. He leaned his face close and pressed his forehead against mine. A chill spread through me, making my skin prickle all over.

“Wait! This still seems dangerous, so please, don’t…!”

The priest’s urgent voice reached me but quickly faded from my ears. At the same time, my vision darkened, like black paint bleeding across a canvas. And then, after a moment, I opened my eyes again. No—Theo, inside Theo’s memory, opened his eyes.

Darkness everywhere. A single thin, long crack in front let in a faint sliver of light. I realized the child had entered some kind of enclosure. That narrow gleam was seeping in through a closed door.

“Where’s my little one?”

A voice from outside the door, soaked with tenderness. A woman’s voice, soft enough to feel plush, like a cushion against the ear.

“Where are you?”

The voice echoed alongside slow footsteps, circling for a moment. Then a shadow slid across the thin gap where the light came through.

“There you are. My baby.”

The door swung open from both sides, and a woman’s face came into view. She had neat, delicate features. A light smile touched her lips as the corners of her eyes softened. Her gaze was full of affection.

“In here again? Scared you yesterday when Mommy shouted, didn’t I? I’m sorry for getting angry. Baby.”

She lifted Theo into her arms as she spoke. Theo wrapped his arms around her neck and buried his face against her shoulder. She let out a soft laugh, patting his back in a steady rhythm. The warmth of her body soaked into him, and his eyelids grew heavy, fluttering closed. Theo let them fall.

When he opened his eyes again, a green garden spread out before him. The child walked along a long path that cut across the garden. At the end of the path was a wide clearing. Inside it, a young boy stood alone, training with a sword. Theo’s gaze shifted, following the boy’s movements. He watched for a long time.

“What are you doing? Come here.”

From a distance, the boy spotted Theo and waved. Theo’s focus snapped, and his gaze dropped. Two small feet shuffled nervously into view.

“I said come on. Not listening, huh.”

A moment later, another pair of feet stepped into his field of vision. Theo lifted his head to see who they belonged to. Light brown hair, green eyes. A boy around ten with the same coloring as Theo stood before him, smiling.

“Come here.”

The boy took Theo’s hand and led him toward the training ground. Theo followed his back. Fine strands of brown hair swayed in the breeze.

“Try to hold this.”

Once inside the training ground, the boy pressed his own sword into the child’s hands. But for little Theo, it was too heavy—his arm dropped straight down.

“Too heavy, huh? Try this instead.”

The boy chuckled and brought over a wooden practice sword. Theo took it with both hands.

“Don’t grip it too tight.”

The boy said as he placed his hands over Theo’s. His palms were damp with sweat. But it didn’t feel bad. If anything, Theo felt a spark of excitement as he looked at the tip of the long wooden blade.

The scene shifted in an instant. The woman who had been calling Theo with a gentle, coaxing voice was now weeping, tears streaming down her face. And from her mouth, she spat out words sharp as broken glass.

“How many times has Mother told you?! Didn’t I say not to play with the young master?! Why is it that no matter how many times I speak, you just can’t seem to understand?!”

The woman shook Theo by the shoulders, violently. Her movements yanked his body back and forth—shoved away, pulled in, again and again.

“Why… why… why were you ever born like this…”

Her voice was unsteady. Angry, it seemed, and sorrowful too. Theo cautiously lifted his eyes to study his mother. He saw her lips trembling over a face twisted in pain. For a moment, her eyes met the child’s—then she straightened up, turned her back on him, and walked away.

She went to the bed and lay down. Then she buried her face in the bedclothes and wailed, loud and ragged. Her sharp cries sounded almost like a funeral chant. Theo was afraid of her. He hesitated for a beat, then ran to the wardrobe. He slipped inside and pulled the door shut.

Darkness swallowed everything around him. Only a thin sliver of light crept through the long, narrow crack in the wardrobe door.

“The madam was so good to me… and I betrayed her… so that child was born to me as punishment!”

The woman shouted, her voice thick with tears. Theo curled his body tighter. He squeezed his eyes shut.

When he opened his eyes again, he saw a teenage boy with green eyes. The boy handed him a carved wooden lion.

“I’m a bit busy right now—hold onto this. We’ll play with it together next time.”

Theo nodded silently at his words. He tucked the wooden lion into his chest and walked down the corridor to return to his room. But as he rounded a corner, he collided with someone. Theo stumbled back a few steps. Before him stood a man dressed neatly in dark colors, his face expressionless.

“……”

Brown hair and green eyes. An impression that felt cold. And in the heavy silence he carried, Theo’s heart thumped fast and loud.

“…Follow me.”

After a long silence, the man spoke briefly, then turned away. Theo hesitated, then followed behind him. The man entered a room that was furnished much like a drawing room. He sat Theo down at a table and sent a maid to bring cookies.

“Eat.”

When the tray heaped with cookies was set on the table, the man spoke. Theo couldn’t eat right away—he paused to gauge the man’s mood for a moment. The man scratched awkwardly under his chin, then stepped out the door.

“…Eat your fill, then go back.”

Only when the man stepped outside did Theo finally reach for the cookie. The boy ate it, crunching, and when only a few remained, he gathered them all and stuffed them into his pocket.

The boy returned to the room. Theo’s mother greeted him warmly when she saw him.

“Where did you come from playing, my little one?”

Hearing his mother’s soft voice, Theo pulled out a cookie and held it out to her. He must have wanted to share something he’d enjoyed. But the moment she saw it, her face turned cold and hard.

“Who gave you this?”

“…….”

The sudden sharpness in her voice caught Theo off guard; he couldn’t answer. Then she grabbed his shoulders, gripping tight.

“You—did you eat this?”

Theo nodded, a small motion.

“You! Do you think you’re welcome here?! Where do you get off accepting things like this from strangers?! Is it because you’re lowborn that you lose your mind at the sight of food?! What if it’s poisoned?! Do you want to die?!”

The woman’s eyes blazed red, as if the blood vessels had burst. The boy trembled, looking at her.