Some of my clients sometimes enclosed a photograph and asked me to make a doll that looked exactly like the person in it. But Angela, afraid that such work would only add fuel to the rumors calling her a witch, had never once accepted a request like that.Still, she knew full well that her skill made it entirely possible.“If I just keep it hidden at home and never show anyone, no one will ever know.”Once again, it must be said—no one but Angela ever came or went from the house she lived in.The old workshop house where she had once lived with her parents had long since been sold for unfortunate reasons. If Mark hadn’t helped her when she’d been left with nowhere «N.o.v.e.l.i.g.h.t» to go, she might have died on the streets or been sent to an orphanage.Fortunately, Mark had supported her in every way, and through him she’d been able to buy a two-story house on the outskirts, a little ways from town.“It’s fine. It’ll be fine.”The quiet, spell-like murmur drifted through the empty air. With no one else left to tell her things would be all right, Angela had grown used to soothing herself this way.She knew perfectly well how absurd this was, how much time she was wasting, and what kind of uproar it would cause if anyone found out—but she still wanted to make it.Looking back, she had always made dolls for clients. Despite her remarkable skill, she had never once made a doll for herself. So just this once—Hoo…Angela let out a small sigh and sat down in the chair before her workbench. No sooner had she seated herself than she began, with astonishing focus, to plant the hair she had prepared so carefully into the white sphere.With that, the work on the head was nearly complete.“Now then, I still need to find fabric for Eddy’s silk top hat…”She hadn’t stepped outside for weeks, completely absorbed in making Edgar’s doll—Eddy.Her food stores were running low, and she still needed materials to finish Eddy, so she would have to go into town, fear or not.“Maybe it’ll be all right by now?”She could still hear, as vividly as ever, the mocking laughter that had echoed through the boutique when she’d fled. Being looked down on and humiliated was nothing new—it had always been part of her life.What frightened her wasn’t the mockery but the thought that Edgar must have heard about that day by now. She didn’t know how he had reacted.What if he despised me, or found me disgusting, or was afraid of me?I never meant to curse him. Not once.But… he did send me an invitation, so maybe he didn’t think that way after all.No—maybe his secretary just sent invitations to every noble on the registry. Maybe Edgar doesn’t even know I’m of noble birth at all.Still… he helped me back then. Maybe he doesn’t see me as a witch after all.Truthfully, she had been turning these thoughts over for three days already, unable to decide whether to venture into town. Even now, she kept hesitating, lost in thought.Clatter.While she wavered, a metallic rattle came from outside, followed by the sound of bicycle wheels and a bell chiming tring-tring. Only after the pedaling noise faded into the distance did Angela carefully open the door and step out to check the mailbox.“From Mr. Mark.”The first civilian post office ever opened in Portigios had become a convenient means of contact for its citizens. Ever since Angela had moved to this house, Mark had used the mail to reach her whenever he wanted to talk.“He even sent it express?”He must have been very worried after she hadn’t shown her face for weeks. Mark was the only person in the world who cared about her—a benefactor, almost another parent—and she felt guilty for making him worry.“Uh…?”No sooner had she stepped back inside and unfolded the letter than her pupils shook as she read.“Lord Edgar…”The news was so unexpected she could hardly grasp it.***Pupellis Doll Shop was the largest specialty doll store in Portigios, selling every sort of doll imaginable.Mark’s main focus was on high-end pieces like bisque dolls and ball-jointed dolls favored by collectors. But because those masterpieces took so long to make and brought in few orders, he had plenty of time left over even after filling them.So he also sold marionettes, wooden dolls, plush dolls, and toys that would appeal to children, keeping the shop running that way.“Angela?”It was very early morning, when hardly anyone was about. Mark, coming out to prepare the shop for opening, caught sight of a small black-cloaked figure beside the building and jumped in surprise.“It’s been a while.”“Oh, heavens, child! Have you been eating properly?!”The shock lasted only a moment before Mark’s voice filled with warmth and delight.Even though Portigios’s postal service was faster than most, Angela usually took several days to appear after receiving one of his letters. To see her show up barely a day later filled him with relief and gratitude.“I’ve been eating fine.”Her voice was so faint it hardly carried any conviction. The body hidden beneath her cloak looked smaller than before.“What on earth have you been doing all this time? Come in, quickly.”Still, Mark gently guided her into the shop, silently resolving to sit her down at his table today no matter what.“First of all—here. The commissioned doll.”As soon as she stepped inside, Angela held out the wooden box containing the finished doll. Though he had given her an extended deadline, clearly she had overworked herself to deliver it anyway.Honestly, this girl has no sense for taking care of herself. Mark sighed and accepted the box, then asked with concern,“Are you hurt anywhere? Feeling ill?”Angela quietly nodded. Strangely enough, the stabbing ache that had pricked at her heart for days had vanished the moment she read Mark’s letter.“That wretch will never work again—not in a boutique, not even in a shabby clothing shop! Serves her right for her rotten temper!”Mark’s moustache quivered as he spoke, his face alight with righteous satisfaction.“But really… His Grace himself ordered the clerk’s dismissal?”“Of course! He’s more aristocratic than any noble in Eclaire, but there’s scarcely a noble as free of prejudice as he is. Especially when money’s involved.”Perhaps because Edgar had thrown himself into ventures the other high-born scorned, he had a rare aversion to judging people by rank or birth.When he had first entered business, the old-fashioned nobles obsessed with appearances had predicted with confidence that his enterprises would surely fail.After all, Edgar only showed interest in ventures that horrified the traditionalists—enterprises built on machinery and mass production.They’d scoffed that investing in such “lowly trades” fit only for commoners could bring no profit. Edgar had merely smiled.And then, as the years passed and one success followed another, he had made those same nobles eat their words. He had simply kept pace with the turning of a new age.“The money you earn from your work could buy ten of that cursed boutique’s most expensive dresses outright! What fool of a clerk lets a client like that slip away? Of course she deserved punishment!”The clerk had paid the price for driving away a customer who could have been a river of gold.Even if Edgar’s action hadn’t been for her sake, Angela couldn’t help feeling glad.At the very least, it meant he acknowledged that what had happened to her had been unjust.

If you find any errors ( broken links, non-standard content, etc.. ), Please let us know < report chapter > so we can fix it as soon as possible.