Herdin and a middle-aged man whom he was seeing for the first time were waiting in the office.
It was not difficult to guess who that man was.
As soon as he saw Blair, the man bowed his head politely.
—My name is Marcel, hypnotist.
It is an honor to meet you this way, Your Highness the Imperial Princess.
No, now I should call her Madam Duchess.
As he spoke, his eyes alternated between Blair's hand and face.
It was customary that, when meeting a lady of the imperial family or high nobility, men would kiss the back of her hand as a sign of respect and courtesy.
For her, who had lived twenty years as an imperial princess, it was something familiar and natural.
Blair, realizing this, held out her hand.
But at that moment, Herdin, who was leaning nonchalantly against the desk in the office, got up and passed between them saying:
—I have another commitment later, so let's get started right away.
The hypnotist, blocked by Herdin, aimlessly lowered his hand with an awkward gesture and immediately began to prepare the hypnosis.
Sitting in a rocking chair in the corner of the office, Blair watched Herdin with anxious eyes.
He remained standing in his place, as if he intended to witness the performance of the hypnosis.
—Herdin.
If you are busy, you can leave me and go to work.
—They say that those who awaken memories that are difficult to recall sometimes suffer.
So, as your husband, isn't it my duty to stay by your side?
Hearing this, the hypnotist thought that the Duke seemed to appreciate his wife very much, but Blair knew this.
Despite his worried words, his cold blue eyes staring at her told her otherwise.
Blair closed her eyes as if to erase that cold voice from her mind and then slowly opened them.
—I'm ready.
Begin, Marcel.
The light that illuminated the gloomy room went out and the pendulum in the hypnotist's hand began to move.
Blair's eyes followed the movement of the pendulum with slow blinks until they finally closed.
Only the low voice of the hypnotist resonated in the silent room.
—You go back to the day when the fire broke out in the Empress's Palace, ten years ago.
He was probably about ten years old.
It's right?
—…Yes, that's correct.
Blair's voice when she responded sounded slow and stammering, as if she were in a dream.
Herdin, with his arms crossed and leaning on the window, watched the scene.
—What are you doing?
—I'm going...
to the Empress's Palace.
Hidden from my mother.
My mother doesn't like me going to the Empress Palace.
"Then you must hurry." It's almost time to arrive.
Has it arrived yet?
—Yes… Her Majesty the Empress welcomes me with joy.
—And what are you doing there now?
—We chat while drinking hot cocoa.
We also played cards with the maids.
—And what does he do afterward?
—I think I fell asleep.
—Try opening your eyes slowly.
What do you see?
At the hypnotist's question, the faint smile on Blair's face, until then serene, disappeared.
—…It's dark.
—It must be a very dark night.
Don't you see anything around you?
-Nothing.
Just… the dress.
—The dress?
Where are you?
—…I think inside a closet.
Hearing Blair's story, Herdin's gaze became penetrating.
At the time of the accident, Blair had been found passed out in the hallway of the Empress's Palace, and the knights who had come to rescue the Empress discovered her and carried her out.
In the Empress's room, Esmeralda and her maid lay dead, hanging.
Nobody knew what exactly had happened that day in that place.
The maids who remained in the Empress's Palace that day had drunk tea with sleeping pills and had fallen asleep, so they found eternal rest along with the Empress's Palace engulfed in flames.
The only survivor of the accident was Blair.
Blair's memory ended right there: when she woke up, she was inside the closet of the Empress's Palace.
She didn't remember anything from the time she came out of the closet into the hallway until she was rescued.
So the real search for his memories began now.
The hypnotist also perceived the sign and readjusted himself in his seat.
—What are you doing there?
-Don't know.
I woke up and was inside the closet...
—So, shall we try going outside?
At the hypnotist's suggestion, Blair took a deep breath.
She looked terrified.
—…I can't go out.
-Because?
Is the door closed?
Or is there some other problem?
—No, I don't know.
I can't go out.
I shouldn't...
go out.
Herdin's brow furrowed slightly as he looked at Blair.
Beyond the closet that she couldn't see, the truth of that day must be found.
"Hmm, so how about you look just a little bit through the crack in the door?" To see what happens outside.
—I don't want to look...
I don't want to see it.
I'm afraid...
Blair, as if she had returned to being the ten-year-old girl of that time, shook her head and sobbed.
—Whatever happens, whatever happens, nothing will happen to you.
Come on, take a deep breath.
—Fire, fire… Smoke comes in.
Blair began coughing and wheezing as if she had actually inhaled smoke.
—Then let's get out of the closet now.
Open the door.
—The door… the door doesn't open.
Blair gasped in a terrified voice.
Then, the hypnotist calmed her down.
—You can open that door.
It will open if you wish.
That day, Blair was found in the hallway.
It was not known if someone had helped her or if she had gotten out on her own, but either way, the closet door must have opened.
It was very likely that the idea of not being able to come out was a barrier created by his unconscious.
But Blair still couldn't open the door.
—Ugh… I don't want to.
I don't want this...
Save me.
Save me, please.
I'm drowning...
His face, already pale, had completely lost its color.
It was then that Herdin realized why Blair had tried to get him out before starting the hypnosis.
-…Enough.
However, the hypnotist, as if he had not heard her words, continued to instigate Blair.
—You must open the door.
You have to open that door and get out!
—Ugh… Ugh… Haa…
Blair's breathing became increasingly labored.
Like I was really going to stop breathing.
The frail woman trembled like a poplar leaf.
So it seemed like he was really going to die.
Seeing that scene, Herdin's heart sank.
If this was a performance, the woman should dedicate herself to avant-garde theater, not to be a boring Duchess.
Herdin moved away from the window where he was leaning and ordered the hypnotist:
—…Wake her up.
—We are about to reach the top.
Only by overcoming this wall can we awaken the memories buried in the unconscious.
The hypnotist, absorbed in hypnosis, ignored Herdin's order and continued to harass Blair.
—Come on, open the door.
He has to open the door and get out in order to survive.
Let's go...
Herdin grabbed the hypnotist by the neck and lifted him up.
—I said stop and wake her up!
Only then, upon meeting Herdin's murderous gaze, did the hypnotist realize that he had irritated His Excellency and froze.
—My, my apologies, Your Excellency.
Herdin dropped it as if tossing it and walked over to Blair.
"Wake up, Blair."
She hugged Blair, who was still gasping as if she were going to drown, and pulled her up.
Then Blair, who was writhing and sobbing as if in pain, suddenly opened her eyes.
At the same time, the tears accumulated in her eyes slid down her cheeks.
—Haa… Huh…
But even after waking up from hypnosis, he still couldn't breathe, like a person trapped in a fire.
His pupils, although open, lacked focus.
Herdin stroked Blair's back, who was trembling as if she were in convulsions, and whispered softly:
—Breathe.
Slowly.
Following the rhythm of his hand slowly caressing her back, Blair's breathing began to stabilize in time.
His absent eyes also gradually regained light with each blink.
When her moist violet eyes finally completely reflected her own image, Herdin heaved a soft sigh.
Leaving the terrified hypnotist behind, he picked up Blair in his arms and carried her to his bedroom.
After sitting Blair on the bed, Herdin examined her once more.
To see if his image was reflected in those eyes.
After checking it, he got up.
—Herdin.
A weak voice urgently restrained him as he was about to turn around.
—A moment ago, in my memories, I vaguely heard a voice.
Someone was talking out of the closet.
I couldn't understand what they were saying because the sound was very low...
Herdin, who had looked at her for a moment wondering what she would talk about as soon as she came to her senses, let out a dry laugh.
The woman was talking about the memories she had just seen under hypnosis.
Precisely her, who had preferred to die inside the closet rather than face those memories.
The voice I heard today is a voice I had not heard before.
A moment ago he was crying as if he were going to die, he was gasping for breath.
And now, with her eyes still red and her tears undried, she brought up that topic first.
It was infuriating.
—Do you think that's what's important now?
Although his voice tried to contain the emotion as much as possible, the coldness reflected in his eyes was clear.
What could be more important then?
Blair, not understanding why he was angry, blinked in bewilderment.
—The purpose of calling the hypnotist is to awaken my memories.
Blair, after thinking for a moment about the reason for his anger, deduced the cause.
It was because she couldn't stand it and had woken up just as they were finally getting closer to the truth of that day.
There will be no hiccups with the contract, so don't worry too much.
Although she said it calmly, her small hands on the quilt were still shaking.
Enough for him to notice.
Herdin, who was looking at those hands, swallowed a sigh and stood up.
—…Rest.
Contract.
Contract.
Contract.
Seeing that he only talked about the contract every time he opened his mouth, it seemed like his fake wife was risking her life for that one-year agreement.
He didn't know why this event, which had already been planned before the wedding, suddenly affected him, nor why it irritated him so much.
Herdin left the room, running his fingers through his bangs somewhat abruptly.
Ruth was waiting in front of him.
—Fire that hypnotist.
Ruth's eyes widened at her lord's softly spoken command.
-Sorry?
Didn't you say you would hire him permanently?
—Look for a new one.
He looks like a healer.
Herdin passed Ruth on the way back to his office and added:
—And tell that maid who came from the Imperial Palace to come to my office.
Ruth, thinking about 'that servant' that Herdin was referring to, hardened her expression without realizing it.
That woman who always observed everyone in the ducal residence with eyes shining with hostility.
He had never spoken to her, but just his look made her want to talk to him.
—Dad, why do you want that woman?
At Ruth's reply, Herdin's cold gaze turned towards him.
His Excellency's order could not be questioned.
—…I will carry out the order.
Ruth bowed unusually politely and walked away.
⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅∙∘☽༓☾∘∙•⋅⋅⋅•⋅⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅
Lina, suddenly summoned to Herdin's office, stood there, twisting her fingers and staring at her desk.
Despite having that arrogant face in front of him that made the other maids gawk when they crossed paths with him.
And she had no idea why he had called her unexpectedly.
The only thing he could think of was the absurd assumption: "Has he caught me cursing him in my thoughts?!"
But there was no need to be intimidated.
The culprit was the Duke, who had disappeared leaving his wife after their wedding night, not her, who cared for Blair with all her heart.
While Lina straightened her body, cowering in fear, Herdin, putting away the cigarette in his mouth, spoke.
—I understand that you have been serving my wife for a long time.
Despite her promise not to cower, Lina responded startled.
—Yes, yes!
That's how it is.
—Is the thing about not lighting the fireplace in the room because Blair is afraid of fire?
On the wedding night, the fireplace in Blair's room was not lit.
Despite the cold that predicted snow.
At the time he thought he just didn't like the overheated atmosphere.
But today, the moment he saw Blair suffer when faced with the memories extracted by hypnosis, he suddenly understood.
—Oh, yes.
That's why, when His Excellency is away, I heat the room and then turn it off.
It doesn't bother him if he doesn't get too close, but it still seems to make him uncomfortable.
—Because of that event ten years ago?
-I think so.
Although he has never said it directly...
—And what about always having a cough?
-Yeah.
I was told that his airways were weakened as a result of the accident.
So that was why.
…To be continued