Chapter 3.13

“What role would you like to play, Mr. Wharton? I think you’d make a wonderful Romeo.”  

“Do you think so?”  

Natalie’s excitement over her idea was evident. Edgar found joy in simply watching her delight.  

“Yes. Romeo is a beloved and dashing protagonist. And… Miss Windsor would make a perfect Juliet.”  

The streams of the fountain scattered as they struck the edge.  

“You two would suit each other so well. Since you’re sure to be an excellent Romeo, Miss Windsor would surely be charmed….”  

Natalie kindly paired Edgar with someone else, subtly reminding him that she wasn’t his match.  

Droplets from the fountain splashed onto the hem of his sleeve, chilling his skin. Edgar felt the cold seeping in from the scattered droplets.  

“I don’t want to be Romeo.”  

Mr. Wharton firmly declared, his lips pressing into a tight line afterward. Natalie, caught off guard by his interruption, glanced at him, her lips parting slightly.  

Edgar smiled faintly at Natalie.  

“Let Leonard play Romeo. He’s a fine gentleman, so the role of the male lead suits him well.”  

After those words, Edgar fell silent, casually slipping his hands into his trouser pockets. He averted his gaze from Natalie, looking down at his feet instead.  

The sound of water from the fountain filled the air as Natalie watched Edgar, who had grown quiet. His expression seemed tinged with disappointment, strangely enough….  

Mr. Wharton seemed upset.  

But why?  

As Natalie tried to reflect on what she had said, Edgar spoke again.  

“I’ll play the ghost.”  

“…The ghost?”  

“The ghost that haunts the Flavium Theater. The one that steals away happy couples.”  

It was a markedly different story from before. But Natalie’s attention was entirely captured by the word ‘ghost.’  

A ghost? She hadn’t expected that.  

Amidst the grandly dressed crowd, a ghost in a spooky mask wandering about—it was truly….  

“Fascinating.”  

Natalie murmured, her eyes widening.  

“How did you come up with that? What if you wore a tailcoat and draped a cape? How about a half-mask? The ghost could have a secret hidden on one side of his face. Wow, that’s really… fascinating!”  

Though her mind brimmed with ideas for a terrifying ghost costume, the role’s owner was Edgar.  

Natalie’s gaze, filled with envy, lingered on him. Edgar’s eyes narrowed slightly in response.  

“Do you want to play the ghost?”  

Natalie was startled, realizing her unspoken thoughts had been read. She quickly masked her expression.  

“But you thought of it first, Mr. Wharton. Still, if it’s alright with you, could I offer some advice on what to wear?”  

When Natalie asked politely, Edgar chuckled softly.  

“Do as you please, Miss Maron. But there’s a condition.”  

“A condition?”  

“You’ll have to play the role of the beautiful muse who captivates the ghost’s heart.”  

“…….”  

Natalie hesitated briefly before forcing a smile.  

“Wow, a muse. That’s fascinating. The ghost is a bit cooler, but the muse is still wonderful. Although the muse can’t wear a scary mask….”  

Her murmuring voice revealed an unmistakable hint of disappointment. Edgar, seemingly aware of her feelings, added,  

“Do you want the role that badly?”  

“A little. To be honest, quite a lot.”  

“If you’re that eager, I’ll give it to you. On one condition—prove how much you desire to play the ghost.”  

Edgar met Natalie’s gaze, his eyes softening.  

“A modest token, like a kiss, will suffice.”  

Natalie’s eyes wavered. She now understood exactly what Edgar meant by ‘kiss.’ Her gaze dropped to his lips.  

While she hesitated, Edgar’s lips curved into a smile.  

“I’d love to play the ghost, but I think you would do a splendid job, Miss Maron. Descending the stairs with a dramatic cape would be magnificent.”  

Natalie imagined herself dressed as the ghost, following Edgar’s words. Just the thought made her heart race with excitement.  

When else in her life would she get to wear such a chilling mask? Perhaps this was her first and last chance.  

As her longing for the ghost role swelled, Natalie met Edgar’s eyes. Facing him, her courage to do anything—even endure a kiss—to become the ghost vanished.  

It was those beautiful blue eyes that were the problem.  

Every time their eyes met, her resolve not to love him wavered dangerously.  

Natalie raised her hand, gently covering Edgar’s eyes. After a moment’s hesitation, she leaned closer, holding her breath. The hesitant kiss barely made a sound.  

Pulling back, Natalie’s gaze lingered on his crimson lips. As the corners of his lips softly lifted, the hand that had been covering his eyes was intercepted.  

Edgar took her hand, lowered it, and kissed the back of it. When their eyes met again, his blue eyes were filled with a smile.  

“I’ll gladly give you the ghost role, Miss Maron.”  

Though Natalie felt somewhat tricked, she was still thrilled to have the role of the ghost.  

Even as they left the fountain, Edgar didn’t let go of her hand.  

“I’ll take care of the mask and costume. Just tell me what you want. I’ll make anything for you.”

Natalie smiled brightly as she chattered endlessly to her steadfast friend and lover about what she wanted.

***

Natalie received a letter. It was the most splendid letter she had ever received. The white envelope, sealed with red wax, bore the elegant insignia of the Flavium Theater.  

Like someone receiving a secret letter, she carefully opened the envelope. The moment Natalie saw the first line of the letter, she was astonished.  

To the Ghost of the Flavium Theater

The moment the roles were called, the magic of the special day had already begun. Thinking that someone might have received a letter addressed to Juliet or Romeo felt immensely romantic.  

She thought it was an excellent idea to start the letter with a role rather than a name, and she wanted to tell Mr. Wharton that.  

After reading the invitation to the Flavium Theater’s masquerade ball, Natalie carefully placed the letter back into the envelope. She wanted to show this marvelous letter to Sally.  

Holding the letter, she left her room and headed toward Sally’s. However, she found Sally not in her room but on the stairs.  

“Sally?”  

Natalie descended the stairs. Sitting beside Sally, she noticed her sister’s red-rimmed eyes and tear-streaked cheeks.  

“Sister….”  

As their eyes met, tears welled up in Sally’s eyes again. Natalie wiped her sister’s tears with her fingertips. Sally then pulled Natalie into an embrace, burying her face in her shoulder.  

“Are you alright? What happened?”  

Natalie gently patted Sally’s back. Sally didn’t answer, only burrowing deeper into her sister’s arms.  

“That bastard….”  

Sally muttered in a tearful voice. From those few words, Natalie immediately understood it was a matter of the heart.  

“A piece of trash….”  

It seemed the man had done something terribly wrong. Natalie decided to wait until Sally was ready to speak. Soon, Sally began to talk.  

“Men who hurt women should have their lower parts cut off.”  

Her words, spoken clearly despite her sniffles, carried an eerie tone. Momentarily startled, Natalie regained her composure and continued to soothe her.  

“…Alright, let’s do that.”  

Hearing Natalie’s agreement seemed to ease Sally’s mind, as she lifted her head from her sister’s shoulder.  

“That guy was seeing other women. Not just one or two, but several.”  

Natalie listened intently, her expression serious. Sally wiped her tear-streaked cheeks with her hands.  

“He was fooling around with all these women. Do you know how I found out? One of them came to me, claiming to be his real girlfriend! She said I was the one having an affair with her man! Can you believe that…?”  

Sally let out a bitter laugh of disbelief.  

“What’s even more ridiculous is that he was the one who broke up with me first. Who does he think he is…!”  

It wasn’t just anger; there was also a deep sense of injustice. Natalie, who had been quietly listening, frowned.  

“That’s truly awful.”  

Natalie’s mild condemnation didn’t satisfy Sally.  

“Awful? He’s trash.”  

Natalie brushed aside Sally’s disheveled hair as she pouted.  

“Yes, he’s trash.”  

Hearing Natalie’s agreement, Sally let out a small laugh and rested her forehead on her sister’s shoulder again.  

“Sally, let’s eat something delicious. How about warm tea and cake?”  

Eating her favorite foods—a method Natalie had used since they were young. Little Sally would stop crying after a fall as soon as she was handed a piece of candy.  

“…Okay.”  

The method still worked. Seeing Sally’s earnest response despite her sniffles, Natalie smiled. She hid the letter behind her skirt. Easing her sister’s sadness took precedence over sharing her joy.  

Before a plate of sweet cake, Sally no longer cried. However, she still looked downcast. Natalie wanted to find a way to help her. This time, it wasn’t a problem that could be solved by writing a letter on her behalf.  

***

Natalie, unable to shake off her heavy heart, visited the Flavium Theater to look at costumes for the masquerade ball. The perfect costume, just as she had imagined, awaited her.  

“Do you like it?”  

At Mr. Wharton’s kind question, Natalie nodded with a smile.  

“It’s perfect.”  

However, the image of Sally’s sorrowful face still lingered in her mind.  

“May I ask for a favor?”  

“Anything you wish, Ghost.”  

Mr. Wharton placed the mask on Natalie and adjusted its size. The mask, covering her face, was too loose and didn’t fit properly.  

“We’ll need to make it smaller.”  

Removing the mask, Mr. Wharton tidied Natalie’s disheveled hair. As she accepted his touch, she began to speak.  

“Could you invite my sister as well? She’s been through something sad. She’d be thrilled to receive an invitation to the ball.”  

“…Something sad?”  

Natalie explained to Mr. Wharton what had happened to Sally—how awful her boyfriend had been and how upset she was.  

Listening quietly, Mr. Wharton came to a conclusion.  

“She needs a way to be comforted.”  

After a moment of thought, Mr. Wharton suddenly smiled.  

“I have a good idea.”  

Natalie thought his expression resembled that of a child who had just discovered an exciting prank. Mr. Wharton walked over to his desk. Holding a pen lightly between his fingers, he looked at Natalie.  

“Tell me his name.”  

Natalie recalled the name Sally had mentioned during her rant. Upon hearing the name, Mr. Wharton wrote it on a piece of stationery.  

In an instant, an invitation was written for John of the Smith family—the trash who had hurt Sally. Following that, a splendid invitation for Sally was completed as well.