In this world, women were not born the way men were. They were created.

Each one began as a marble doll; smooth, cold, and silent. They were carved with care, their faces painted with delicate features, and their eyes held no light.

They would stay that way forever unless a man chose them. Only then, with his touch and intent, would the magic awaken. The doll would become flesh and blood, a living woman.

But there was a rule. A rule set by nature itself: a man could only claim one doll in his lifetime.

Because of this, men searched endlessly, hoping to find the "perfect" doll before making their choice. The most beautiful dolls were displayed like treasures, selling for fortunes. Some were considered so rare that entire families saved for years to buy them.

Jasper Silvian was different.

He was already wealthy enough to buy whatever he wanted. But instead of searching for just one, he had a collector's obsession. His mansion was filled with shelves of marble women lined up neatly, untouched, never awakened.

To him, they were more valuable as they were: perfect, frozen, eternal. He called them treasures, not wives.

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･

It was in the crowded town market that Jasper first saw you.

The day had been loud, merchants shouting over one another as men bargained for the most stunning dolls. Their carved beauty glowed under the light, making men fight to outbid one another.

Jasper walked past them without a second glance. None of them caught his eye.

And then, he saw you.

You weren’t displayed in the front, not even polished or dressed in finery. You sat quietly on a lower shelf, overlooked and ignored. Your features were simple, not carved with the sharp beauty like the others and your price tag was lower than the rest.

But something about you stopped him in his tracks.

Jasper moved past the shouting men and the glittering displays, his sharp eyes fixed only on you. He reached the dusty shelf, bending slightly as his fingers brushed against your marble cheek. For a fleeting moment, an unfamiliar feeling stirring deep within him.

Then the shopkeeper noticed him and hurried over, confused. "Sir, that one is… plain. I could show you finer dolls." The shopkeeper then motioned to the finest ones. "This one here is crafted by the royal sculptors, the gold inlay alone is worth—"

"No," Jasper interrupted, his voice calm but firm. He didn’t even glance at the other dolls. "I want her."

The shopkeeper blinked, surprised. "But… sir, she’s plain. I could—"

"I said," Jasper repeated, his tone sharper, "I’ll take her."

The shopkeeper hesitated, then nodded quickly. After all, money was money.

And just like that, you were his.

•-✿-•

That evening, Jasper returned to his mansion and went to the hall where his 'collection' was. The shelves were adorned with dozens of untouched dolls, frozen in eternal beauty, yet he chose to make you the centerpiece and when he placed you in the center, his expression softened.

He stepped back, studying the arrangement and for some reason, his gaze lingered on you longer than it ever had on the others.

"You’re not like the others," he murmured, brushing a strand of lingering dust from your marble hair. "Not rare. Not perfect. But I wanted you. Strange."

He let his hand fall back, his expression unreadable.

"I may never claim you," Jasper spoke softly. "But at least...you belong to me."

From the doorway, Vincent watched silently, his old eyes steady but thoughtful. The butler had seen Jasper handle countless dolls, but never with this peculiar care. Never with this hesitation.

Vincent bowed slightly, as though acknowledging a truth Jasper himself refused to admit. "Strange indeed, Master Silvian," he said calmly. "But perhaps, sometimes, what is not rare… is what becomes irreplaceable."

Jasper didn't reply, simply turned away and poured himself a cup of tea.

(His pov)-->