Chapter 4.4

Edgar reached out and removed Natalie’s mask. Startled by the sudden removal, Natalie quickly covered her eyes with her hands. Edgar gazed steadily at the face of the young lady whose identity had been revealed.

“The ghost is incredibly beautiful. Is that why you wear a mask—to keep people from falling for you?”

Still hiding her face with her hands, Natalie peeked out with only her eyes.

“I know it’s a lie.”

Her narrowed eyes were filled with suspicion. Edgar simply smiled.

“The problem with liars is that even when they tell the truth, no one believes them anymore.”

“That’s a sad thing.”

Natalie reached out to retrieve her mask from Edgar. Instead of returning it, Edgar let it fall to the ground and took hold of her hand. The mask lay beyond reach, discarded.

“But sometimes it’s useful. You can pretend it’s all an act while holding the hand of someone you like.”

Since every word would sound like a lie anyway, Edgar decided to continue his performance.

“The touch of your hand is like a pilgrim’s kiss.”

Edgar delivered the line playfully. It was a line from the play Natalie had seen with Leonard during their theater date. In the play, the next scene involved the protagonists sharing a kiss.

But Natalie kept her lips tightly shut, like an actor dissatisfied with their co-star. Edgar intertwined his fingers with hers, ensuring she couldn’t pull away, and drew her hand closer to him.

“Say the next line for me, Natalie, so I can kiss you.”

“……”

Her wavering gaze flitted across Edgar’s face. Finally, Natalie hesitantly opened her lips.

“Pilgrims have lips too.”

Even if she was merely humoring him, Edgar smiled at Natalie, who had finally chosen to play along as his partner.

“Lips are for prayer. I’ll grant you permission to pray, so your faith doesn’t turn to despair. Will you cleanse my sin of lying with your lips?”

As Edgar ad-libbed lines from ‘Romeo and Juliet’, mixing them as he pleased, Natalie, who had been robbed of her lines, pressed her lips together and protested.

“If you take all the lines, there’s nothing left for me to say.”

“But the kiss is still left, isn’t it? Natalie, statues of saints can’t move.”

Edgar stood still, like a statue waiting for a kiss. Natalie gazed at Edgar silently.

“Once you’ve washed away your sins, will you stop lying?”

“Perhaps.”

Natalie chose to believe the ambiguous answer rather than doubt it. Priests forgiving sins had to believe the lies of sinners, just as audiences had no choice but to believe in the actors’ performances.

Natalie tiptoed closer to Edgar’s lips. Edgar lowered his head. A soft breath brushed against his lips. Their lips drew so close that they seemed about to touch. It was the moment when, with a kiss promising honesty, they would speak their truths without hiding anything.

But the sound of hurried footsteps shattered the tension.

“Mr. Wharton! Are you here?”

Maurice’s desperate cry stopped the two. Maurice, who had been frantically searching for the missing Mr. Wharton, sighed in relief as soon as he spotted the familiar blond hair. The strange words uttered by the man running down the hallway proved to be nonsense. A giant ghost, someone dead—his rambling had made Maurice worry that something terrible had happened to Mr. Wharton. But Mr. Wharton was unharmed.

However, before Maurice could fully relax, another problem arose. A figure dressed entirely in black was faintly visible in the shadows. Two things were clear: the clothes under the cloak were a tailcoat, the kind a gentleman might wear, and Mr. Wharton had been just moments away from kissing this gentleman.

“It really was a ghost dressed in black!”

The man’s earlier testimony about the ghost resurfaced in Maurice’s mind. 

Could this gentleman be the ghost?

Maurice was troubled. Should he be more concerned that Mr. Wharton no longer cared about whether his partner was alive or dead, or that he no longer cared about their gender?

The ghostly gentleman buried his head in Mr. Wharton’s chest. At the same time, Mr. Wharton noticed Maurice.

“…….”

“…….”

Both were silent, caught off guard by the unexpected situation. Maurice debated whether he should pretend not to have seen anything or quietly leave.

“Did something happen?”

Mr. Wharton spoke first. As he did, he wrapped his arms around the shoulders of the person in his embrace. Maurice, feeling as though he had unintentionally intruded on someone’s private moment, averted his gaze.

“A guest caused a commotion, saying a ghost appeared. They claimed someone died and accused the theater staff of being in on it….”

“My, that sounds serious.”

There was a disconnect between the content of his words and his calm tone.

Maurice glanced at the gentleman in Mr. Wharton’s arms. Noticing Maurice’s gaze, Mr. Wharton pulled the person closer, hiding them, and smiled kindly.

“I’ll be there shortly.”

It was clear he wouldn’t be going immediately. The reason was undoubtedly the gentleman in his arms. The Mr. Wharton Maurice knew would never put personal matters above the theater’s business. Maurice, with a mix of curiosity and concern, spoke up.

“Well, the situation is quite serious…. The police have been called. They’re determined to find the murderer.”

Mr. Wharton, now wearing a grave expression, rubbed his brow with his fingertips.

“Understood. I’ll head over soon. Can you go ahead and assess the situation?”

“Yes, I’ll do that.”

Following his employer’s request, Maurice left the box seats. Though he was still curious about the ghostly gentleman’s identity, he simply walked briskly down the hallway.

As the sound of footsteps faded, Natalie lifted her head. Edgar smiled as he looked at Natalie.

“We’re in big trouble now.”

“…What should we do?”

“Well, shall we go to prison together?”

Unlike the leisurely Edgar, Natalie was serious. She quickly removed Edgar’s arm from around her waist.

“We should change clothes first. Before we get caught.”

Natalie spoke as she began to remove her cloak. Edgar lightly tugged at the knot to help her. Even after taking off the cloak, Natalie looked down at the tailcoat—a trace of their crime—with a troubled expression.

“Is there any other clothing?”

Edgar, meeting Natalie’s gaze as she sought a solution, smiled with his eyes.

“Of course.”

***

The room Mr. Wharton led her to was filled with “other clothes.” Natalie looked up in wonder at the garments hanging like willow branches. Ornately gilded outfits hung next to shabby shirts, contrasting starkly.

Natalie thought the two outfits might belong to Hamlet, the prince who played a madman. A prince doomed to speak the truth only in performance, his splendid royal exterior and lonely soul mirrored the contrast between the two garments. Beside them, a dress embroidered with multicolored flowers along the hem surely belonged to Ophelia. The young lady who loved a prince incapable of honesty ultimately drowned herself—a tragic end.

“In this place, one could truly become anyone.”

Next to Ophelia’s white dress hung a red dress of unknown ownership. Natalie, captivated by its vivid color, reached out to touch it. Mr. Wharton, who had followed her in, appeared from beyond the dress’s hem. Seeing Natalie’s hand on the red dress, he looked troubled.

“Why not choose another dress?”

“Is this one not allowed?”

“It’s not that it’s forbidden… it might be uncomfortable.”

His hesitant attitude and ambiguous answer were strange. Dresses were naturally uncomfortable. Natalie had no intention of choosing the forbidden red dress just to trouble Mr. Wharton.

“Ophelia would suit you better.”

But when Mr. Wharton hastily pulled out Ophelia’s dress, her curiosity was piqued. 

What secret could that dress possibly hold? Was it cursed? 

The thought made the red dress all the more alluring.

“I don’t want to be a young lady who waits in sorrow to be loved. Besides, Ophelia lost her family as well.”

“…Your family will be healthy.”

While Mr. Wharton corrected his almost-ominous words, Natalie was already running her fingers over the red dress’s skirt.

“Do you like this dress?”

“Very much.”

Reluctantly, Mr. Wharton finally handed her the red dress. Natalie stood before a full-length mirror in the corner of the room and began to remove the tailcoat. She took off the tailcoat first, then loosened the ribbon beneath the shirt collar. As she removed each garment, she began unbuttoning the shirt.

“Natalie.”

When she looked up, she saw Mr. Wharton reflected in the mirror. Natalie stopped unbuttoning and turned to face him. Mr. Wharton handed her the dress earlier than expected.

“I’ll step out for a moment.”

Natalie didn’t take it and replied.

“But I can’t put on the dress by myself.”

Mr. Wharton’s gaze lingered at her feet. Natalie had rarely seen Mr. Wharton flustered. He always seemed capable of smiling calmly in any situation. Yet now, his shifting eyes, the bobbing of his Adam’s apple, and his tightly pressed lips betrayed his unease—like an actor forgetting their lines on stage. The usual calm smile was nowhere to be found.

Natalie found Mr. Wharton’s unfamiliar demeanor fascinating. Just as she had chosen the cursed red dress out of curiosity, she undid another button. Mr. Wharton frowned slightly and turned his back to her. His broad back, blocking her view, was as resolute as an unyielding fortress.

“Let me know when you’re done undressing.”

Edgar’s firm voice conveyed his resolve to help Natalie put on the dress but not to watch the process. Natalie, however, continued unbuttoning as she replied, unconcerned.

“I wasn’t planning to take everything off anyway.”

Since she was wearing undergarments beneath her shirt, there was no risk of exposing her bare body. Facing Edgar’s back, Natalie removed both her shirt and trousers. When she reached out for the dress draped over Edgar’s arm, he flinched slightly. The white wings on his back also quivered faintly.

Natalie couldn’t help but laugh. She felt like a mischievous child playing a silly prank.