* * *
The following day, Blair arrived at Headrin’s office after being summoned.
Inside, Headrin and a middle-aged man she didn’t recognize were waiting. It wasn’t hard to guess his identity. The moment the man saw Blair, he bowed respectfully.
“I am Marcel, a hypnotist. It is an honor to meet you, Your Highness. Or rather, I suppose I should call you Duchess now.”
As he spoke, he glanced between Blair’s hand and her eyes. It was custom for men to kiss the back of a woman’s hand as a gesture of respect when greeting royalty or high-ranking noblewomen. Having lived as an Imperial Princess for twenty years, she expected this protocol.
Noticing his intent, Blair held out her hand.
But at that moment, Headrin, who had been leaning crookedly against the desk, straightened and stepped between them.
“We have another schedule later. Let’s begin immediately.”
Blocked by Headrin, the hypnotist awkwardly lowered his empty hand and began to prepare for the session. Blair, sitting in a rocking chair in the corner of the office, watched Headrin with anxious eyes. He stood his ground, clearly intending to watch the hypnosis.
“Headrin. If you are busy, it’s fine for you to leave me and tend to your work.”
“I’ve heard that those who awaken memories that are difficult to face can suffer greatly. It is only fitting that I, as your husband, remain by your side, is it not?”
The hypnotist assumed the Duke was simply doting, but Blair knew better. Despite his concerned tone, his cold blue eyes spoke differently.
*‘How can I trust you?’*
Blair closed her eyes as if to erase that internal voice, then opened them slowly.
“I am ready. Begin, Marcel.”
The lights were extinguished, and the pendulum held in the hypnotist’s hand began to swing. Blair’s eyes followed the rhythm until they finally drifted shut. Only the hypnotist’s low, steady voice echoed through the quiet room.
“You are returning to the day ten years ago when the Empress’s Palace fire broke out. You are ten years old. Is that correct?”
“……Yes, that’s right.”
Blair’s voice was sluggish, as if she were sleep-talking. Headrin stood by the window with his arms crossed, watching her.
“What are you doing?”
“I am…… going to the Empress’s Palace. Without Mother knowing. She doesn’t like me going there.”
“Then you must hurry. You are arriving now. Are you there?”
“Yes……. Her Majesty the Empress is welcoming me.”
“What are you doing there?”
“We’re talking while drinking warm cocoa. And playing card games with the maids.”
“What happens after that?”
“I think I fell asleep.”
“Try opening your eyes slowly. What do you see?”
At the question, the faint, peaceful smile on Blair’s face vanished.
“……It’s pitch black.”
“It must be the middle of the night. Can you see anything around you?”
“No. Only my dress…….”
“A dress? Where are you?”
“……I think I’m inside a closet.”
At Blair’s words, Headrin’s gaze sharpened. At the time of the fire, Blair had been found in the hallway of the Empress’s Palace by knights rushing to the scene. Inside the Empress’s rooms, Esmeralda and her maid had been found hanged. No one knew exactly what had happened; the other maids had died in their sleep from drugged tea.
Blair was the only survivor. Her only memory was waking up inside that closet. She had no recollection of how she moved from the closet to the hallway where she was rescued. The search for the truth began now.
The hypnotist sensed the shift in the room and straightened his posture.
“What are you doing in there?”
“I don’t know. I just woke up and I was in the closet…….”
“Then shall we go outside now?”
Blair gasped, her face contorting in terror.
“……I can’t go out.”
“Why not? Is the door locked? Or is there another problem?”
“I don’t know. I just can’t. I mustn’t…… I can’t leave.”
Headrin’s brow furrowed. The truth of that day lay beyond the closet door she could not see.
“Hmm, then how about just peeking through the crack? To see what is happening outside.”
“I don’t want to look……. I don’t want to see. It’s scary…….”
Blair shook her head, weeping as if she had truly reverted to being that ten-year-old child.
“No matter what is there, no matter what happened, you are safe now. Take a deep breath.”
“Fire, fire……. The smoke is coming in.”
Blair began to cough and gasp, as if she were truly inhaling smoke.
“Then let’s go out of the closet now. Open the door.”
“The door…… the door won’t open.”
Blair gasped, her voice shrill with terror. The hypnotist pressed on.
“You can open that door. It will open if you want it to.”
It was likely that Blair’s inability to leave was a psychological barrier. But she continued to fail.
“Ugh……. No. I don’t want this……. Save me. Please, save me. I can’t breathe…….”
She began to weep, twisting her whole body. The blood had drained from her already pale face. Headrin finally realized why she had tried to send him away.
“……Stop.”
But the hypnotist, obsessed with the trance, ignored him.
“You must open the door. You have to open it and come out!”
“Ugh……. Ugh……. Gasp…….”
Blair’s breathing grew labored. She trembled like a reed. Seeing her distress, his heart sank. This was no performance; she was genuinely reliving the trauma.
Headrin pushed off the window frame and strode forward, commanding, “Wake her.”
“We are at the peak. We must cross this wall to retrieve the buried memories!” The hypnotist continued to push her. “Now, open the door! You must open it to survive!”
Headrin grabbed the hypnotist by the collar and hauled him up.
“I said stop and wake her up!”
Faced with Headrin’s murderous gaze, the man finally froze.
“I—I apologize, Your Excellency.”
Headrin tossed him aside and approached Blair.
“Wake up, Blair.”
He pulled her into his arms as she continued to struggle for air. Blair snapped her eyes open, and tears streamed down her cheeks.
“Gasp……. Sob…….”
Even after breaking the trance, she still couldn’t breathe, her eyes fixed and unfocused. Headrin stroked her back, whispering softly.
“Breathe. Slowly.”
Guided by his touch, her breathing began to stabilize. When her tear-filled violet eyes finally locked onto his, Headrin let out a shallow sigh. Leaving the terrified hypnotist behind, he carried Blair to her bedroom.
After seating her on the bed, Headrin watched her, ensuring his reflection remained in her eyes. Once he was certain she was present, he stood to leave.
“Headrin.”
A thin, urgent voice stopped him at the door.
“In the memory, I heard a voice. Faintly. Someone was talking outside the closet. It was too quiet to distinguish, but…….”
Headrin looked back, wondering why she would speak of that moment immediately after waking. He let out a dry, humorless laugh. She was focused on the memory she had nearly died to escape.
“Perhaps in the next session, I might be able to leave the closet……. I heard a voice today that I hadn’t heard before.”
Anger flared at her calm, steady tone. She had been sobbing like she was dying just moments ago, and now she was already planning her return to that nightmare.
“Is that really what is important right now?”
His voice was strained, but his eyes were ice. Blair blinked, confused by his anger.
“The purpose of calling the hypnotist is to awaken my memories.”
She contemplated his reaction for a moment. She assumed he was angry because she had failed to endure, stopping just before the truth.
“I’ll try to hold on longer next time. The contract won’t be affected, so please don’t worry.”
She spoke calmly, but her small hands, resting on the quilt, were still trembling—trembling enough for him to see.