Chapter 59
6
Daphne couldn’t believe what she was seeing.
The first thing that caught her eye was a pure white dress. It was completely plain, without a single embellishment, yet she recognized it instantly as her coming-of-age ceremony dress. She had sewn it herself, every stitch made by hand.
‘How did it end up here?’
She was certain that Bishop Isabella had burned it after the ceremony, as a symbol of leaving childhood behind.
And yet, beside the hanger, a framed piece of fabric hung on the wall. It was the first handkerchief she had ever embroidered. Just a common scrap of muslin, but the clumsy needlework was so unmistakably hers that she knew it at a glance. It had been so poorly stitched, she’d eventually stopped using it and stuffed it away somewhere, never to be seen again. And yet, here it was.
That wasn’t the only thing she recognized immediately.
Below the frame holding the handkerchief stood a long cabinet, the top sealed beneath a glass display, the kind one might see in a museum.
As she leaned closer and looked into the case, Daphne slapped a hand over her mouth.
Inside it, lying in plain sight, was the imitation phallus she had used until just a few weeks ago — until Theodore had found it and confiscated it. Even now, it bore unmistakable traces of her arousal.
“What… what is this…?”
Beside it lay a worn copy of the Scriptures, handwritten — her own copy. She had copied a paragraph a day to teach herself to read, and the first pages were filled with worm-like scribbles. But as the pages went on, the letters gradually straightened. Whoever had placed this in the glass case had chosen to leave it open precisely at that turning point — the place where her writing began to take shape.
Next to the manuscript was a broken hair comb, no longer usable. Beside that was a plain undergarment — one she had hung to dry two years ago, only to have it carried off by the wind. And next to that was a piece of charcoal she used to draw with before it vanished, and the flat, palm-sized stone she’d carried with her even after entering the convent…
She realized that the objects inside the glass case were arranged in chronological order. The further along the display, the older the items became.
‘This is ridiculous.’
That’s when Daphne had no choice but to accept the truth once more.
“…They’re all things I’ve used.”
This entire space was a giant box, a curated archive of someone named Daphne.
‘How did they even gather all of this?’
She had been just a vagrant, a life fated to die on the streets. Losing cherished possessions had always stung, but she’d told herself it was fine — none of it had ever truly belonged to her in the first place. Just being taken in by the convent was more grace than she deserved. To obsess over the things she’d gained here would be a kind of blasphemy, surely deserving of punishment.
And yet, here they were — everything she thought she’d lost, gathered and displayed in one place.
Well, almost everything. That stone at the very end of the case, she remembered giving to Theodore herself as a child. Could it be that all the other things she thought had vanished had actually been taken by him, quietly, secretly, all along? And she had scolded herself each time, thinking she had been careless, that she had let them slip away.
‘Especially that undergarment.’
The white panties in the case were sealed beneath an additional layer of thin material. As if — she shuddered — someone had wanted to preserve the scent trapped in the cloth.
No… surely that’s reading too much into it.
“Heh. Heheheh.”
A hollow laugh escaped her lips. Of course — of course. That day when she’d arrived late to his office, the day she’d caught him mxstxrbating — that white cloth clutched to his nose had been this. It had to be.
‘No wonder it looked familiar.’
Daphne bit her lower lip. Her insides were in turmoil. She didn’t know how to process the existence of this room. How long must it have taken to gather all of this?
Everything about this space felt wrong. A person in their right mind wouldn’t collect another’s belongings like this and keep them preserved. It was unnatural. So she should be disturbed. She should feel disgusted.
“…”
Back when they were young, she had spoken to him directly only once by the riverside. That was it. Before that, all she had ever done was sneak glances from afar.
When he wore that angelic face twisted in some quiet sorrow, it would send a twinge through her chest. It reminded her too much of the ache she’d felt while keeping vigil at her mentor’s deathbed. Maybe that’s why she’d always looked his way a little longer.
That boy… She hadn’t wanted him to feel alone in the world. At the very least, she’d hoped he wouldn’t feel sad. So she’d worked up the nerve to talk to him, to offer what she was best at.
Even though, on that particular day, it had taken six tries to finally pull it off — and yes, it had been deeply embarrassing.
‘But that smile he gave me…’
When he smiled at her, her heart had nearly leapt from her chest. She remembered thinking: I want to keep this moment forever.
“Ah.”
So that’s what this is.
“…”
He wanted to remember me and the life I lived.
The realization landed, quiet and startling.
Daphne slowly lifted her gaze and stared at the white ceremonial dress hanging on the wall.
* * *
Theodore froze.
The sharp ice of her turquoise eyes locked onto him. And in that instant, all he wanted to do was flee. But his mind had gone blank. He couldn’t move, not even a twitch.
“Theodore.”
A cold bolt of lightning struck him with her voice.
“Would you care to explain what exactly is going on here?”
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