Chapter 2. The Love Affair of the Doll and the Dollmaker. As the season began to turn hot, the forest where the Geppetto Doll Workshop stood was at least relatively cool even in the swelter.“Ah, I’m doing it again…”Lately Angela had been spacing out more and more. At first she tried to blame it on the heat, but the reason was obvious.“It’s the same as ever…”It was long past noon and already close to evening.Even though she knew he never came at this hour, she kept finding herself peeking downstairs on a baseless swell of expectation.“Eddy, I must be greedy. We just met yesterday, and yet I want you to come again.”If she didn’t want to be disappointed like this, she could have simply kept the doll with her or worked downstairs, but she didn’t. She kept thinking: what if she was watching and Eddy couldn’t change because of it?So working upstairs on purpose had become routine.“It would be nice if Eddy could always stay by my ✧ NоvеIight ✧ (Original source) side.”Angela, who had been alone ever since she grew up too quickly, found every moment with Eddy these days so pleasant and happy.He did scold her, emphasizing a regular life, proper eating habits, and a tidy environment, but she liked that too.Somehow, it felt like she had a family.“This isn’t the time for this. Since meeting Eddy, my work has fallen far behind.”The problem was that after Eddy started coming, she kept putting off her work to prioritize time with him.If she had hurried and finished during the hours he wasn’t there, it wouldn’t have been an issue, but she hadn’t made any progress—spacing out like earlier, thinking of him or going downstairs to look around, unable to focus at all.“Sir Astra, I’m sorry for dragging my feet. It’s not that I’m making you carelessly, so please don’t be too angry.”The commission this time was a doll with the concept of an astronomer.She had somehow finished making the torso, but there was still so much to do—costume and props—that even several sleepless nights wouldn’t be enough to meet the deadline.“Let’s start with the robe embroidery. If Eddy finds out I didn’t work properly, he might be disappointed.”Angela patted both her cheeks and began delicately embroidering with gold thread over the deep navy robe she had prepared. With the effect of meteors pouring down and constellations stitched in, the plain navy fabric quickly became splendid.“Next is…”She had only been embroidering, and yet the sky had grown as dark as the robe.Nights in the forest were unusually quiet—and that much more romantic. If she could spend this night with Eddy, it would become another delightful memory.But unfortunately, Eddy always left before sunset.“In just two more days, I’ll get to see Eddy again.”Human desire truly had no end.Once, it would have been enough just to see Edgar even a single time. That wish led her to make the doll that resembled him, “Eddy.” Then, once Eddy miraculously gained life and began coming to see her, she came to hope he would always stay by her side.Angela Faber had never had much in the way of desire. Wanting things was pointless when they could never be attained. But once what she wanted kept coming true, she found herself wishing for worse and worse things.“I keep wanting more. If only this life could continue, I feel like I would accept any unhappy price—that must mean I really am a wicked witch, right?”In the quiet house, where no one but her stayed, there was no one to answer her question.Angela steadied the loneliness creeping back in. So it wouldn’t slip again, she picked up the robe she had set down and absorbed herself in the additional work.***The bedroom at the Grace Ducal Estate blended the latest fashionable sensibilities with refined dignity, laying bare the owner’s taste.“Ugh, it hurts… Please, stop…”It was late enough that the night sky had turned pitch black; the owner of the bedroom should have been fast asleep. But instead of the soft sound of breathing, the space was filled with the groans of someone in pain.A vicious nightmare.The nightmare showed Edgar at about three years old.The child thrashed desperately, his arm seized in someone’s grip. As if to crush his resistance, a woman with long, wavy hair like a black tide clamped down on his forearm and barked at him:“Hold still! If you do this, your father will come to see us!”The woman held a fine needle and smiled grotesquely. Seeing the needle draw closer, the young Edgar, his face wet with tears, writhed and screamed for her to stop.“Be good, Eddy. If you endure, everyone can be happy.”With the woman’s mad expression, the pain crashed over him.“Hah!”Edgar sucked in a huge breath and snapped his eyes open.“Ha… damn it…”He was sick of it. He hurled the pillow he’d been lying on, irritated by a dream that had plagued him for more than a decade.Crash!“Your Grace, are you all right?”Unfortunately, the pillow struck the vase on the side table and sent it tumbling to the floor with a clatter. Perhaps because of the noise, the butler hurried into the bedroom.“It’s nothing. Sorry for the commotion at this hour.”Taking in Edgar’s pale face, the cast-aside pillow, and the shattered vase, the butler assessed the situation and quietly summoned servants to clean up.“Shall I prepare a whiskey?”“…Please.”Edgar sat up and leaned against the headboard, covering his eyes with the back of his arm. The lingering afterimage of the nightmare would not let his foul mood lift.The butler, who had served him since Edgar began staying in earnest at the Grace estate, restored the room to its original state with practiced efficiency. Through a maid, he brought whiskey, a glass, and an ice bucket, and set them on a table in the bedroom.“I’ll take my leave now. Sleep well.”When the butler finished and withdrew with a courteous bow, Edgar let out a short, humorless laugh.“‘Sleep well,’ he says…”For Edgar, insomnia was an inseparable, loathsome bond.He couldn’t remember how many years it had been since he became unable to sleep without strong sedatives. The problem tonight was that, for once, he’d grown drowsy without taking them and had closed his eyes as he was.“Pathetic bastard.”The low curse was aimed at himself. Dreaming the nightmare again after a long time felt like proof of his weakness. His mood felt filthy, as if he had rolled through a ditch.He uncapped the strong whiskey the butler had prepared, filled the crystal glass halfway, and tossed it back in one go. The undiluted liquor burned down his throat and sent a searing heat through his body.He filled the glass again and drank, again and again. As the alcohol took hold and his vision blurred, his mind went hazy.“Haah…”He despised himself for relying on drink yet again. If people learned that Edgar de Grace suffered from this kind of mental illness and alcohol dependence, they would be ecstatic to gossip.Fortunately, he had kept himself from sleeping anywhere but the Grace estate, and so his condition had not leaked outside.Above all, the butler was so capable that nothing that happened in this bedroom had ever escaped. How fortunate he was to keep such talent at his side.“I should give the butler a bigger bonus.”Murmuring to himself as he newly appreciated the man’s competence and usefulness, Edgar looked out the window.Beyond his blue eyes, blurred by drink, lay the pitch-black night sky—disgusting and loathsome, like that woman’s.“Ah…”But when the clouds slipped away and the hidden full moon emerged, he began to see not that woman, but someone else. Someone with eyes that gleamed like gold beads—someone who made no attempt to hide her unconditional fondness and affection for Edgar. Someone pure.“Angela.”How strange. The night, with black hair like that woman’s, had always dragged terrible memories back to him—but since meeting Angela, the night had felt less horrible than before.Angela’s workshop was a truly curious place. It didn’t match his taste, it wasn’t clean or luxurious, and it had nothing decent to eat—but the moment he stepped into that shabby house, his heart felt at ease.So much so that he forgot his original purpose altogether.“Maybe I should move my visit up by a day.”With every blink, his drink-blurred vision darkened further. Even so, Angela remained vivid.Right up until his consciousness slipped away, the afterimage of Angela—her eyes beautiful like the moon—did not leave his sight.

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