The Hourglass Stranger
The person who burst out as if shoved from the status window was a man with long silver hair that flowed like brilliant moonlight.
If not for his sharp, gray-tinted eyes and cold smile, his beauty was so perfect one might have mistaken him for a fairy or an elf.
The man who had suddenly appeared and staggered for a moment soon let out a heavy sigh and sank onto the bed.
“Haa… Only sixty seconds.”
He raised his right hand to examine the back of it, his flawless eyebrows drawing together.
Hovering transparently above his skin was a small hourglass no larger than two finger joints. Instead of sand, glowing blue liquid dripped steadily into the empty lower chamber while the device spun slowly in place.
Even as he sighed, the blue liquid continued to drain rapidly from the upper chamber.
“Haa…”
He stared at the upper chamber, now holding only a third of its contents, and sighed once more. Then, as though accepting the inevitable, he gave a small, wry chuckle and slowly looked around the room.
His hair, catching the sunlight pouring through the window, shimmered like a silver sculpture brought to life.
“Another sacrifice…”
Despite his breathtaking appearance, his voice was so cold it chilled the air.
It might become a gift.
A faint, bitter smile touched the man’s lips as he read the words.
The attachment he couldn’t release until the final moment was both pathetic and foolish.
Twinkle, twinkle.
The last drop of blue liquid fell from the upper chamber with a soft plop.
Whoosh.
The instant the man looked around with regretful eyes, the room emptied completely.
Chirp, chirp.
The sparrow that had flown back in perched on the windowsill, then hopped down into the now-empty room.
When she closed the bedroom door and stepped out, a wide reception room unfolded before her. It resembled the grand, antique drawing rooms seen in medieval dramas—opulent and steeped in history.
Not a single item—the sofas, tables, or even the sparsely placed ornaments—failed to catch Chloe’s eye.
Wow, if I sold all this stuff, it would bring in quite a lot of money, wouldn’t it?
Greed inevitably stirred at the sight of such rare valuables. Chloe swallowed hard and forced herself to look composed.
As she crossed the spacious room, she suddenly stopped and glanced back toward the bedroom.
“Is something the matter, my lord?”
Thelma asked anxiously, clearly worried that her capricious young lord might have changed her mind. Though she kept a calm smile on her face, it was because Chloe had always been unpredictable.
“Didn’t you hear any noise coming from the bedroom?”
“Noise, my lord? No, I heard nothing at all.”
Thelma shook her head.
Chloe tilted her head in confusion, then continued across the reception room, the navy dress rustling softly around her. She couldn’t shake the strange feeling that she had left something behind.
When she reached the reception room doors, the massive panels swung open on both sides as if they had been waiting for her. Chloe, who had been about to push them herself, flinched in surprise but quickly steadied her breathing and pretended nothing was amiss.
The heavy doors were polished to a smooth, reflective shine.
Glancing up at the doorway that towered far above her head, Chloe walked through as naturally as she could.
Outside, she noticed someone’s feet visible beneath the open door. It seemed the person waiting there had opened it upon hearing her approach.
The thought of the two servants standing attentively outside made her feel guilty. Complicated emotions tangled inside her—guilt for enjoying what wasn’t truly hers, and discomfort with kindness she wasn’t used to receiving.
But those feelings vanished the moment she saw the magnificent sight before her.
“Wow…”
The mansion’s hallway reminded her of a famous European art gallery. She had never been to either, but the comparison felt right.
Chloe lifted the hem of her rustling navy dress slightly and walked forward, unable to tear her eyes from the paintings lining the walls.
Most were portraits of unknown figures, though some depicted unique necklaces, tiaras, and rings.
Between them were several blank spaces where frames had clearly once hung.
“Where did the paintings from these spots go?”
Chloe pointed to an area where the wallpaper pattern stood out more clearly and asked. The marks left by the frames were large and perfectly square, like empty windows.
“Pardon? Did you not dispose of them yourself, my lord?”
Thelma’s voice carried clear traces of resentment and sorrow. It seemed she had strongly opposed the decision at the time.
Unable to think of a proper response, Chloe simply continued walking slowly.
The remaining paintings were impressive even to someone like her with little knowledge of art. They were so meticulously detailed that she almost wondered if they were photographs until she drew closer.
Every piece drew her gaze, but one in particular stopped her in her tracks—the portrait of a woman.
It was roughly the same size as the others, yet its frame was extraordinary. The wooden border was covered in intricate carvings so detailed it looked as though the painting had been set inside a sculpture. Flowers and fantastical creatures adorned the frame, making it a work of art in its own right.
Without realizing it, Chloe came to a halt before the portrait.
“Will you be greeting the madam again today?”
Thelma asked in a gentle, familiar tone, as if this were not the first time her young lord had paused here.
When Chloe turned, she saw Thelma gazing up at the portrait with moist eyes and a sorrowful smile. The depth of grief in her expression went far beyond simple longing for a former mistress.
“Mother…”
The unfamiliar word slipped out before Chloe could stop it. She quickly covered her mouth in shock.
Now that she looked closely, the woman in the portrait resembled her current body almost perfectly. The only differences were slightly smaller lips and gentler eyes. Where Chloe’s eyes had a cat-like upward tilt, the woman’s were soft and drooping like a kind puppy’s. She looked like a gentler version of Chloe.
Chloe only remembered her own mother’s face from old photographs. The mother who had died in a car accident when she was very young felt as distant as those faded images, almost as if she had never truly existed.
The few remaining photos had been hidden away after her father’s remarriage, and after his sudden death there was no way to find them.
Suddenly, a wave of longing tightened her throat for a mother whose face she could barely recall. Thinking that the original Chloe must have felt the same made her heart ache with complicated sorrow.
“Thelma.”
Chloe called without taking her eyes off the portrait.
“Yes, my lord.”
Thelma answered softly, her own gaze still fixed on the painting as though lost in old memories.
“Did Mother… love me?”
“…”
Thelma remained silent.
Chloe’s heart plummeted. She immediately regretted asking. It wasn’t even her real mother, yet the silence brought an unexpected wave of sadness.
“I was only asking…”
Feeling the mood grow too heavy, Chloe tried to brush it off casually and turned away. Thelma, who had been watching her quietly, suddenly pulled her into a tight embrace.
“My lord, the madam loved you more than anyone else in this entire world. So please, stop blaming yourself. Do you understand?”
Blame herself? What did that mean?
There was clearly a deeper story here, but Chloe knew she couldn’t uncover it all at once. She decided to learn gradually.
Thelma, mistaking Chloe’s thoughtful silence for depression, began to ramble on without being asked.
She smelled like laundry dried in warm sunlight. The scent somehow deepened Chloe’s sense of longing, and she unconsciously breathed it in.
“The madam sang you lullabies every single night before bed. On your birthdays she would give you dolls she had made herself. She even filled the garden with your favorite flowers. You were too young to remember, but to her, you were everything in this world.”
Thelma’s voice grew moist as she recalled the past. Her hand gently patted and stroked Chloe’s back, warm and comforting.
Ding!
The current favorability of the territory residents is -189,380.
📈 Increased by 20 points.
A small heart the size of a coin floated above Thelma’s head, sparkling with red light. Unlike before, it didn’t burst immediately. It continued to twinkle for a moment before suddenly popping with a soft burst.
Anticipation rose within Chloe.
It went up by twenty from last time.
They had simply talked about her birth mother, yet the favorability had risen by twenty points. It meant Thelma held deep affection for the late madam.
Chloe decided she should speak with Thelma about her mother whenever she had the chance.
So my room was on the second floor.
As Chloe descended the spiral staircase leading to the first floor, she let her eyes wander across her surroundings. The same stairs also continued upward to the third floor.
At first the mansion’s grandeur had made her wonder where exactly the “poor estate” was supposed to be. But the more she observed the interior, the more she felt something was missing. The atmosphere felt strangely hollow.
The mansion was impeccably clean, yet it lacked the warmth of a lived-in home. It felt empty, like a house long abandoned.
“My lord, we should hurry,” Thelma called from the first-floor lobby. She watched Chloe lingering on the stairs and urged her forward.
From the look in her eyes, it was obvious she believed her young lord was deliberately dawdling because she didn’t want to inspect the territory.