The Doll and the Truth

Gail's words echoed in my mind, looping endlessly, gnawing at me like an itch I couldn't quite scratch.

Aria was, in essence, a little girl—or at least, she carried herself as one. Her personality, her mannerisms, even her wide-eyed curiosity about the world all aligned with that image, despite the unfathomable power she wielded. And so, for once, I decided to stop treating her like an invincible entity beyond comprehension. Instead, I would treat her like she seemed to be: a child.

Kael had returned home, leaving me some time to myself. On impulse, I decided to take the carriage into the city, with Aria by my side.

Walking through the streets of the capital with a summon was usually prohibited, a rule intended to prevent chaos in a bustling city already alive with energy. But Aria was an exception, her human-like form sidestepping the usual restrictions. To the casual observer, she was just an unusually stoic little girl, holding tightly to my hand as we strolled through the winding cobblestone streets.

Our first stop was the toy store.

Not just any toy store—the toy store. The most renowned shop in the capital, beloved by nobles and commoners alike. When I was younger, before my mother became the Chancellor and our family moved permanently to the capital, my parents had brought me here. I still remembered the joy of choosing a dollhouse, its tiny furniture and perfect little rooms enchanting me for days.

Standing in front of the familiar façade now, the memories washed over me like sunlight breaking through clouds. The carved wooden sign above the door gleamed in the late afternoon light, and the window displays showcased rows of intricate dolls, plush animals, and even mechanical toys that clicked and whirred.

"This brings back memories," I murmured, smiling at the sight of the store.

"Let's go," I said, glancing at Aria, who blinked up at me silently. Her hand remained in mine, her grip firm but light, as we walked through the door.

The familiar chime of the bell above the entrance greeted us, followed almost immediately by a warm voice.

"Oh, if it isn't Lady Elara!" The voice belonged to none other than the store's owner, Lady Serena Mildram.

Lady Serena was a Marchioness, a woman of immense influence in the Kingdom of Thane. But she was also renowned for her love of children and her charitable efforts. She sponsored countless orphanages and schools, and this store—her pride and joy—was a testament to her passion. Despite her noble standing, she personally managed the shop, delighting in the opportunity to interact with children and families.

"You've grown so much!" she exclaimed, her fan fluttering in front of her face as she offered me a conspiratorial wink.

"Thank you, Lady Serena," I replied with a polite bow.

Her sharp eyes shifted to Aria, who was quietly taking in her surroundings. There was no mistaking the Marchioness's curiosity as she studied my summon.

"My, my," Lady Serena said, her voice rich with intrigue. "So this is the famous Prime Eterna. Incredible."

Aria, as expected, didn't acknowledge the comment. Instead, her gaze darted around the store, taking in the rows of shelves and the colorful toys they held. She tilted her head slightly, her expression as unreadable as ever, but her attention was clearly captured.

"I apologize," I said quickly, feeling a touch embarrassed by her indifference.

Lady Serena waved the apology away with a laugh. "It's quite all right, my dear. She's a Prime Eterna, after all. It would be unreasonable to expect her to follow our customs and mannerisms."

Still, I felt a flicker of guilt as I squeezed Aria's hand gently. "Aria," I said softly, "we're here to get you a doll."

"A doll?" she echoed, blinking up at me. She tilted her head further, her expression one of faint puzzlement. "Small humans?"

I couldn't suppress the chuckle that bubbled up at her interpretation. "No, not small humans," I explained. "A toy—a figure you can keep with you, one that's just yours."

Her gaze shifted back to the shelves, her black diamond eyes scanning the rows of dolls with new intent. The toy store seemed to hum with warmth and life, the faint scent of polished wood mingling with the sweet aroma of confections sold at the counter. Children's laughter drifted from another corner of the store as they examined toys, their delight contagious.

"Go ahead, choose one you like," I encouraged her.

Aria hesitated, then slowly walked toward a shelf filled with dolls of varying sizes and styles. She reached out, her fingers brushing against the fabric of a doll's dress—a simple, elegant figure with a blue gown and golden hair.

She turned back to me, holding the doll carefully in her small hands. "This?" she asked, her voice quiet.

"Do you like it?" I asked.

She studied the doll for a moment longer, then gave a single nod. "Yes."

Lady Serena clapped her hands together in delight. "A fine choice! That's one of our most popular designs—very elegant, just like Lady Elara herself."

I flushed slightly at the compliment but managed a small smile. "Thank you, Lady Serena."

As I paid for the doll, I noticed Aria watching the exchange intently. She seemed to be observing everything—the coins, the conversation, even the way Lady Serena wrapped the doll carefully in soft paper.

Once the transaction was complete, Aria took the doll in her hands again, cradling it gently as we left the store. Her expression remained unreadable, but the way she held the doll told me everything I needed to know.

"Don't leave me," Aria whispered to the doll in her hands, her voice barely audible yet heavy enough to halt my steps mid-stride.

I froze.

Her voice was always calm, deliberate, composed to the point of sterility. There were no inflections, no fluctuations, no threads of emotion interwoven into her words—only the perfect stillness of someone who spoke because they had to, not because they wanted to.

But now… did this mean she felt nothing? Did it mean Aria was truly the doll she appeared to be—beautiful, unbreakable, and utterly devoid of feeling?

I thought back to her words in the forest. Elara, mine.

No, that wasn't true. Aria could think, she could feel. She wasn't an emotionless shell. She couldn't be.

"Aria," I said softly, kneeling beside her, "the doll will never leave you. Like me."

She blinked at me, her dark, diamond-like eyes searching my face as if trying to decipher the meaning behind my words. I held her gaze, trying to meet the depths of her expressionless stare with something that might reach her, even if just a little.

"Humans always lie," she said, her voice flat yet resolute, and she turned her gaze away, the doll cradled tightly in her arms.

Her words caught me off guard, piercing through the warmth of the moment like a shard of ice. "Aria… did you know humans before I summoned you here?" I asked hesitantly, though I wasn't sure I wanted to hear the answer.

She nodded, her movements as measured as always. "Yes."

"What were they like?" I pressed gently, leaning closer. I wasn't sure where this sudden urge to know more about her past came from, but the question spilled from me unbidden.

Aria tilted her head slightly, her grip on the doll tightening. "Humans always lie," she repeated, her tone colder this time. "They don't save or protect. They just… want me to project them. Project themselves as heroes."

Her words hit like a hammer, sharp and jarring. I blinked, stunned by their weight. This was the first time I had heard Aria speak so much, her usually sparse vocabulary now blooming into something raw and jagged.

"Project themselves?" I echoed, feeling the words tumble in my mouth like stones. "What do you mean, Aria?"

"I'll save you, cursed child of demons," Aria replied, "He always said that to me."