I gazed at the younger version of myself standing before me. My eyes were icy as I smiled and conversed with Miss Bertia.
… The same.
That thought struck me suddenly.
The younger me appeared like a doll, limited to just smiling. I lacked the warm, human emotions that I now possess.
That was “me.”
That’s why I understood.
In those days, I embodied Baroness Heronia’s description, “a clever doll without a heart.” Unable to engage with anything, I mechanically performed the roles expected of me, showcasing emotions in line with what others anticipated in various situations. I had no preferences, no sense of good or bad, no happiness or sorrow, no anger—none of those feelings. I was a lifeless doll devoid of everything. Yet, this very emptiness fueled a strong desire within me: to meet someone who could ignite my interest, a person whose significance would resonate deeply with me.
“That’s not ‘my’ Bertia…”
Ever since I met Bertia, the ‘heat’ known as ‘emotion’ has been building up inside me. A chill raced down my spine when this ‘heat’ was suddenly taken away, reverting me to my original doll-like form.
“No, I don’t want this. It’s scary…”
These emotions welled up inside me, causing me to shudder.
—At the moment, there are three versions of me present. The first was the fake me, crafted by the light spirit. The second was the vessel me, which is made to experience this situation. Lastly, there’s the real me, existing within that vessel. It seems that the light spirit can influence only the fake me and the vessel me, while my true consciousness remains linked to the real world.
This has to be a dream-like illusion created by the light spirit, clearly not reality.
… I get that. I really do. However, the vessel’s transformation makes me feel like my emotions are shifting as well. It’s a strange, unsettling, and perilous feeling.
“Maybe I should push my way out of here, even if it’s a little reckless? No, I don’t want to do anything hasty that could impact my true consciousness with these feelings”
As I observed my arm slowly changing into a doll’s, I considered my choices. Suddenly, a strong gust of wind swept toward me. I instinctively shut my eyes, and when I gently opened them again, I was faced with an entirely different scene.
Bertia wept for her mother who had passed away from illness. My younger self stood before her, wearing a sorrowful expression and offering comforting words but keeping a respectful distance. Next to her was Marquis Noches, his eyes revealing despair and a sense of helpless anger, remaining expressionless.
—A future that was meant to occur.
The future I envisioned with Bertia was now revealing itself before my eyes. The Bertia standing here was on a different journey. As a result, her personality, actions, and even her appearance felt unfamiliar compared to my memories.
Although I might typically think, “that’s pitiful” when I saw her, my heart stayed unaffected. However, witnessing a reality that starkly contrasted mine, I intensely felt, “The Bertia in front of me will never align with ‘my’ Bertia,” and this understanding sparked a sense of urgency akin to panic.
At that moment, more warmth escaped from my chest, and my arms up to my shoulders and legs turned into doll parts.
The scene before me continued to shift rapidly.
Marquis Noches, appearing as a changed man, became emotionally distant from those around him. He channeled all his affection into his daughter, a constant reminder of his late wife, and slowly, Bertia developed into a stubborn and defiant young woman. When her demands weren’t met, she would throw fits and destroy items within her reach. She would also lash out at servants over insignificant issues.
In my presence, she would coo softly, pressing her curvy figure against me, fiercely protecting me from any woman who came near.
Such scenes, one after another, unfolded before my eyes.
With each scene’s transition, the warmth within me faded away, and I increasingly resembled a doll. As these scenes unfolded, Bertia matured and eventually entered Halm Academy. By this point, my form had nearly fully transformed into a doll. Regardless of what I witnessed, I felt numb… or so I was led to believe, experiencing profound feelings of loss, pain, and sorrow. I resented this. This wasn’t who I was. Please don’t strip away my warmth… the ‘emotions’ I had finally begun to feel…
Within the doll-like vessel, my true self quietly screamed. The outer shell insisted that feeling such emotions was inappropriate and dismissed the true intentions—the feelings—of my authentic self. It felt suffocating, making me nauseous. Yet, trapped in this doll’s body, I was unable to cry or even vomit.
I considered that destroying everything might be the best course of action. I felt an urgent need to shatter this vessel and flee from this unsettling world. Yet, a more composed voice within me cautioned, “What if you abandon this tumultuous situation and it impacts your true mental state?”
“In the worst-case scenario, you could genuinely lose the ‘emotions’… the ‘Bertia’ you worked so hard to feel.”
In that instant, I experienced a fear that surpassed any dread felt in this environment. It was something I desperately wanted to avoid.
“Prince Cecil!!”
When the scene shifted again, wrapped in light, a woman’s overly sweet voice reached my ears. She had a bright, flawless smile. Her mere presence seemed to illuminate everything around her, almost as if light itself was cascading over her surroundings.
My eyes were drawn in. Warmth started to flood my chest. Without realizing it, my fingers, once doll-like, began to transform back to human. But…
“This is wrong,”
“It’s fake,”
I, my true self within this vessel, voiced my frustration angrily. The figure just out of reach was Baroness Heronia, not my beloved fiancée.
If not my fiancée…
“So, why not switch out the fiancée?”
A whisper uttered in my own voice seemed to come from somewhere far away.
No.
That’s not it.
I knew the correct answer, but part of me still wanted to agree.
This was a nightmare.
When the light spirit depleted its energy and I emerged from the dream, my rational mind came back. However, this nightmare was so dreadful that I felt inclined to grasp any quick solace.
And yet, this “relief” was precisely the power of the being subjecting me to this ordeal.
I clenched my teeth tightly and stared at the scene before me.
Baroness Heronia smiled at the fake me, who could initially muster only a forced smile, but gradually, that version of me began to show genuine human expressions.