For a while, naturally enough, the incident at the doll exhibition dominated the front page of the newspapers. From the perspective of the exhibitors, who had been hoping to get attention by creating highly capable clockwork dolls, there couldn’t have been a greater irony.
A clockwork doll had gone on a rampage at a celebration held once every five years. People naturally asked a lot of questions about a doll mounted with weapons, and from there it was only a matter of time until nasty stories started coming out about Raul, the president of the company where Sophie had worked.
It turned out he had been lying about the cost of materials, using strange sancta of dubious origins, and more. “More,” by the way, included embezzlement, workplace bullying, and pretty much every other unpleasant thing you can think of. Needless to say, he was arrested. He was going to spend a pretty good stint in jail—if he liked conflict, he was going to get it.
With the man who’d been behind it all now behind bars, things finally settled down. When I picked up the newspaper a week after the incident, I didn’t see any more articles about the doll exhibition. All the headlines were mundane, unremarkable news items.
“Looks like life might finally be a little more peaceful again,” I said.
I studied all the stories on the front page, but none of them were about dolls. The only one that caught my eye was something that seemed to have nothing to do with the subject. Famous entrepreneur abruptly turns himself in, it said. Admits he formerly committed marriage fraud. The only relation between this story and any of the recent excitement was that, according to police, the man claimed his life was being threatened by dolls, and he wanted to be put in jail in order to keep himself safe.
“Ha-ha-ha! Dolls, threaten people?”
“Some people do say the strangest things.”
The twins chuckled as they scanned the article from where they sat beside me.
Wait… Their eyes didn’t look like they were laughing…
I looked up from the newspaper and glanced around. While I’d been reading, preparations had been coming right along. The rows of chairs were gradually being filled; everywhere I looked, I saw reporters sitting with memo pads or cameras at the ready.
“We’ll be starting soon,” Riviere said from the seat beside me. She was back in her familiar grown-up form, looking calm and collected as she peered up at the stage.
A single clockwork doll stood upon it, covered by a white sheet.
A week since the events at the exhibition, we were at a certain mansion on the outskirts of town, where we were going to reveal a new clockwork doll created by the engineer who had worked for Raul. Riviere, the twins, and I were there as the special guests of the host of this event.
“Thank you all for your patience.” The host, Sophie, climbed up on stage and stood beside the covered object. She took a deep breath, then she made a slow bow to us and the assembled press. “First, please let me apologize for last week’s terrible events.”
It was well understood that Sophie was one of Raul’s victims, that he had used her, and many people had spoken up in support of her. Still, as an engineer, she had been part of what Raul was doing, and I guess she felt a responsibility for that. Even the invitations she had sent to us and the reporters had included words of apology.
“Now I’d like to show you what I truly wished to build.”
Not something to hurt people, but something to help people. That, she told us, was her true aim. She sounded so gentle as she spoke. Her fingers brushed the white cloth. In that moment, I was sure that she had simply been taken advantage of by that villain. In truth, she possessed tremendous skill and deep convictions.
She pulled the cloth away, revealing a clockwork doll of such exquisite craftsmanship that it was hard to believe she’d completed it in just a week.
It was made to look like a woman sitting in a chair.
“Allow me to explain the function of this doll,” Sophie said. As I watched her, I smacked the newspaper. I remembered something from a week before, something that had happened just after the incident.
“Looks like it’s over, huh?” Elaina had said, appearing behind me with Riviere as if out of thin air. The mechanical doll was slumped on the ground, robbed of both its arms. Behind it, Sophie was embracing Kuroe and Shirona.
Yeah, it did seem like everything was all over.
“I expected no less,” Riviere said, looking at the toppled machine with pride.
I nodded in complete agreement. “The whip and the ring both did exactly what they were supposed to,” I said.
“I was talking about you,” Riviere said. Dummy. She gave me a gentle smack with her undersized hand. “I’m glad I trusted you. Thank you.”
“Aw, it was nothing.”
“Also, let’s take tomorrow off.”
“Don’t think you’ll be back to your usual size?”
“Oh, I will,” Riviere said. Then she pointed to the ring on my finger. “But you’re not going to be able to move for a day now that you’ve used that.”
Silently, I looked down at the ring. It made the wearer strong, stronger than any ordinary person, but there was a serious kickback.
“My, uh, muscles are gonna hurt pretty bad, huh?” I said.
“Let’s just say if you need to do any shopping, you should do it tonight.”
Because you sure won’t be doing it tomorrow. Riviere gave me a nasty little grin. It was obvious she spoke from experience.
“Well, the most useful sancta always come with a price,” I said glumly.
“If you take something beyond your grasp, you’ll have to make up for it somehow. It’s only natural,” she said. “Even prayer was originally intended for situations that only prayer could deal with. But the ease of offering a prayer is why the storage room at the shop is almost full to bursting.”
“It’s a vicious cycle,” I said.
“But I’m actually relieved,” replied Riviere.
I looked at her with a question in my eyes. She was gazing straight at Sophie and the twins. She looked…happy. Overjoyed.
“I’m glad to know there are still people who use the cathedral the way it was intended.”
When Helica had found there was someone she simply couldn’t reach, regrets she simply couldn’t erase, as a last refuge she had turned to prayer.
That prayer had been heard, and now the two girls who had come to life because of it were embracing the weeping Sophie.
“I’m sorry,” Sophie was saying. “I’m so sorry for being a bad daughter!” A moan escaped her, accompanying a torrent of regret. She wept like a child, howling, heedless of the many eyes around her.
Kuroe stroked her back and said, “It’s all right.”
“There’s always a chance to try again,” Shirona said, running a hand through her hair.
Any time.
Even right now.
You can always start over.
The twins, who looked so similar, spoke almost in unison; and the expressions on their faces seemed to overflow with the love of a mother watching over her child.
I guess the reason I thought of all that when I saw Sophie talking about her newest creation was because she had the same sort of look on her face at that moment.
“Behold!”
She wound the spring and the doll started moving. Sitting in its chair, it could do simple chores, like knitting a scarf or cleaning. It could take on the housework.
“What I sought from my doll was just to make people’s daily lives that little bit easier.”
To take the slightest part of the daily burden off their shoulders. That was purpose enough, meaning enough. Sophie’s voice was gentle as she spoke.
When she had finished her explanation, one of the reporters raised a hand. “Do you have a name for this creation?” they asked. A nice, easy question.
Sophie nodded. “But of course.” She set a hand on the beautiful doll’s shoulder and said the name.
It was the name of the one who watched over Sophie, even when she wasn’t there. The name of the one who loved her most.