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Chapter 62
Four years ago, on that day, Anne, the maid in charge of cleaning, was in a good mood.
The order from above had been to dispose of those things properly, but—
“Why throw something this expensive away?”
She carefully wrapped a golden dragon adorned with a red ruby, and a toy wooden sword decorated with a tiara, in the folds of her skirt.
Just by selling these, she could leave the Winchester estate and buy a house in the capital, Rosento.
“The young master must have told us to throw them away because he wanted a fresh start. I’ll make good use of them in his stead, with the heart of cheering him on.”
One side of Jin’s room was entirely a display case.
Jin, who had an obsessive tendency to collect, often gathered objects he deemed valuable.
Most of them were toys his late mother had bought for him when he was little.
There were also beautiful dolls and jewels.
He had even commissioned dolls made in the likeness of his younger brother, Lord Othello, and displayed them there.
But one night, at the age of nine, Jin ordered all of them cleared out.
Not only the things left by his mother, but also the precious items he had collected—everything had to be emptied.
The servants were wary of Jin’s intentions, but to Anne, it was a blessing.
How else could a mere maid ever get her hands on such treasures?
Creak—
While she was examining the stolen goods in the attic, the sound of a door opening came from below.
“No way… surely not?”
Startled, Anne quickly hid the items in her skirt and went downstairs.
“……”
She froze.
He was only a child whose head barely reached her chest, yet Anne felt a bone-deep chill.
“Y-young master, what brings you here…?”
It was Jin Winchester, nine years old, heir of the Winchester family.
The boy’s eyes were fixed on her.
“…You didn’t obey me.”
It was Jin’s voice.
A child? Could such an aura belong to a mere child?
With just a flick of his hand, he could tear her apart. Could such a monster be called a boy?
“Why did you steal what’s mine?”
Anne instinctively knew Jin was interrogating her.
“Young master…”
She wanted to hide it, but his gaze pierced through all pretense.
Her hands went limp, and the treasures hidden in her skirt spilled to the floor.
Jin looked at them as though they were worthless.
Anne instantly fell to her knees.
“I-I was wrong. I only touched them because you said they were useless—”
“I never thought them useless.”
Jin cut her words coldly.
His shadow, vast like that of a giant, loomed over her.
“I only cast them aside because something more interesting came along.”
More interesting?
The things Jin owned were top-class items from Elle’s Toyshop, nearly indistinguishable in value from real treasures.
Nothing in the empire could be more valuable than these toys—so why…?
“…I’ve committed a grave sin, young master.”
Anne didn’t think further. She lowered her head and begged desperately.
The only way to survive was to rely on the mercy of the little master.
Perhaps her desperate plea reached him, for Jin spoke in a slanted tone.
“I’ll let you live.”
“Ah… thank you.”
“If you play a game with me.”
Anne’s pupils trembled.
The cruel boy’s lips moved.
“Hide-and-seek.”
Anne’s face paled with terror.
Much later, from the attic, the sound of a dog’s growl and a woman’s screams echoed.
After sending Shasha away, Jin entered his room with a weary expression.
It was a room identical in structure to Othello’s. Once the door shut, his eyes turned to the display case on the wall.
Inside, neatly arranged from top to bottom, were a few toys he had retrieved from Anne four years ago.
Approaching them, Jin muttered under his breath.
“Indeed, it does look rather empty.”
Then he reached out, grabbed the handle of the case, and slowly pulled.
Clack—
At once, the wall began to move.
It rotated halfway inward, revealing a much larger space.
There, Jin’s true collection was unveiled.
Not only the original wall, but also the newly revealed space was lined with display cases.
Inside were hundreds of dolls, all resembling the same person.
No, not exactly the same—there were slight differences.
A doll of a baby with little hair.
A slightly older baby with a pacifier.
A toddling child.
One holding a milk bottle.
One wearing a scarf.
One trembling in fear.
One smiling brightly.
All were crafted with meticulous detail, lifelike as real people, with the same silver hair and green eyes.
One doll even held a crudely repaired ball.
They were masterpieces made by Rosento’s finest doll artisan, commissioned by Jin.
“……”
Jin stood before them.
He lifted his hand and traced an imaginary line across one doll’s cheek.
There was no mark—he hadn’t used his dark flame—but his eyes were chilling.
“You’re more precious than anything.”
The doll’s hollow green eyes stared back at him.
He knew they had no soul, but he wanted to preserve something resembling Shasha’s uniqueness.
In the middle of the display case was a large empty space—big enough to confine a person, like a prison.
“But these are only substitutes, not the real thing.”
Jin never tolerated others touching or stealing his belongings without permission.
“If the real thing is damaged, it’s worthless.”
So he had never experienced such a situation before.
His collection teetered, as though drifting toward the water’s edge.
“Do I just have to watch…?”
Just then, knock knock—a sound came from outside.
Jin’s eyes dulled, but he turned away from the display with his usual cold face.
As he stepped back, the wall rotated once more, returning everything to normal.
“Who is it?”
“It’s Shasha.”
Jin’s eyebrow twitched. He opened the door.
Shasha stood there, holding a small basket.
Her eyes sparkled brightly—nothing like the empty gaze of the dolls.
Jin asked coolly:
“I thought your training was sufficient.”
“No, it’s not that…”
Shasha held out the basket. Inside were fragrant cookies.
“I wanted to apologize.”
“Apologize?”
She nodded. After thinking for a moment, she continued.
“To be honest… when I was really little, I misunderstood you, brother!”
Jin’s green eyes wavered faintly.
“……”
“I thought you were like a villain. Dangerous, maybe.”
At those words, Jin’s hand twitched—but soon returned to stillness.
“So I was scared of you. But the more I think about it, brother, you’ve never once done anything harmful to me. On the contrary… you’ve always helped me. You brought me Elixia, and you protected me from danger.”
Jin suppressed the urge to argue.
“Even the training—though it’s tough—was to make me stronger…”
He wanted to ask, If you knew what lies behind that display, would you still look at me the same way?
But before he could—
“!”
Jin’s eyes trembled.
Shasha had hugged him.
“And yet, I always acted selfishly. I’m sorry.”
Her tone was too mature for a child, her voice pure and clear.
“From now on, I’ll try to understand your feelings. If something important comes up, I’ll talk with you first.”
She looked up at him.
Living here, she had learned what Jin’s weak points were. This wasn’t an entirely uncalculated move—but there was sincerity in it.
Because Jin cherishes me.
“So… please don’t hate me. I don’t like it when you treat me coldly!”
Shasha knew that Jin’s stubbornness, his harshness, was tied to concern for her safety.
Just as Jin saw her as a child stepping too close to the water’s edge, Shasha too thought of Jin as a child—dangerous to others, but with a pure heart inside.
Even if only a little.
“How could I hate you?”
After staring at her for a long while, Jin placed his hand on her head.
Shasha felt comfort in the heavy weight of his palm.
She looked up at him.
Her reflection shone in his deep green eyes.
She couldn’t tell what thoughts or emotions he held.
“I cherish you—in my own way.”
All she could sense was that his mind was complicated.
After a short silence, Jin murmured to himself:
“The way I treat what’s precious to me… is a little different from others.”
“……”
Shasha didn’t understand, but she kept gazing at him.
Jin, usually expressionless, let out a small sigh and faintly smiled.
“Still, hearing that from you… makes me quite happy.”
“……”
Shasha blinked.
It seemed his mood had lightened.
Through the arched window, the sunset streamed in brilliantly.
“Tomorrow, let’s go to the library together.”
His quiet voice sounded so gentle it was almost dangerous.
