“Angie?”
Mrs. Dunst was standing on the third-floor steps, looking down at her.
“Oh, Ma’am, I’m sorry!”
As Angie hurried up the stairs again, she realized what was so eerie. There was no smile on the child's face. It was as pale as a sheet of paper, completely devoid of emotion, more like a funeral painting than a family portrait.
And one more thing...
As Angie followed the maid down the third-floor hallway, she also realized one thing belatedly.
The dead Duchess Eugenia, the woman presumed to be Lord Kai's mother, was nowhere to be found on the walls. There were no photographs, no portraits, nothing.
“Angie, you probably already know this, but I’ll say it again.”
“Yes, Ma’am.”
Mrs. Dunst's eyes flashed sternly. Angie's shoulders stiffened under the pressure.
“Make sure to refrain from saying useless things to your Master. On the first day, try to answer only the questions that he asks.”
"...All right."
Angie swallowed hard. The girl was curious, but not reckless. She had a reputation in the village as being mature and thoughtful beyond her years.
The basement of the annex was a secret room consisting of dozens of mazes. Edward Liam Blackwell was locked in the innermost room of the maze. A fearsome lock was placed tightly on the door.
But the interior was far from a prison. The room looked comfortable and pleasant in every way, no different from a luxury hotel room.
Edward opened his eyes, hazy, with one hand and one foot chained. This seizure had been quite long. And it was getting longer each time. That could never be a good sign.
He moved his tightly bound wrists and pulled the rope hanging on the wall. A sturdy young man came in immediately and untied him.
“Jerome. How many days has it been?”
“Yes, Master. Today is the fifth day.”
The man answered with a face that showed no emotion. He waited with both hands clasped politely in front of him until his Master gave his next order.
“...Five days. The fifth day.”
“Please bear with me for a little while. The remedy for my Master will arrive tomorrow. So please, control your mind so that you don’t break the chain and leave the mansion. Sleeping pills aren’t working well these days, so I’m looking for other herbs on the island...”
“I’ll try to endure it.”
If it goes beyond ten days, it becomes dangerous. That's when he might have to seriously confine his body to this underground fortress. After all, if he goes completely out of control, he doesn't care who he hurt or if he burns down this mansion.
But here was his child. Edward's own flesh and blood son. His only family and blood ties.
“Kyle...?”
“He stays safe in his room. His Highness’s seventh remedy has just arrived.”
“Wasn’t it two months ago? The sixth time she was out... What a poor kid. How old is she this time?”
“She's sixteen. She's very healthy.”
Edward picked up the water bottle on the bed tray that Jerome had brought. As always, a burning thirst followed the seizure and overwhelmed his entire body.
“Jerome.”
“Yes, Master.”
“I need a woman.”
“I will prepare it right away.”
The servant bowed politely to him and immediately left the room. Edward ran his free hand through his black hair. Beneath his picturesque features, a bitter smile escaped his lips. It was a smile of self-loathing, vanity, and contempt for his own animal nature.
When the girl arrives, he'll have to shake his hips like this, with only his lower body exposed. Damn it...
Edward was desperate because he couldn't be free from the physiological phenomenon of having to eat, sleep, and empty his body of things in a proper cycle, no matter what the situation. Hot resentment welled up inside him.
If it weren't for his son Kyle, he would have burned this entire mansion down right now. His ancestors' terrible greed and vain delusions were not worth even a handful of ashes.
The seventh remedy was entering Blackwell's room. Angie covered her mouth with one hand to keep herself from screaming.
The bedroom was like a palace in a fairy tale book. It wasn't as cute as a Princess's room. However, the entire room was filled with a sense of luxury and dignity that couldn't be expressed in words.
But what surprised Angie wasn't the beauty of the interior. Of course, the overwhelming elegance and splendor were admirable, but there was something else that sent shivers down her spine.
The room was like a cave decorated like a palace. One long and high wall was covered with thick curtains. It was really strange. Outside, it was a bright late afternoon, but the room was extremely dark. During a strange silence, only the craft lamps placed here and there on the walls cast a soft light on the room.
“Ah... Hello, Young Master.”
Angie stammered as she walked toward the high, curtained bed. She couldn't tell if the other person was watching or not, but her body instinctively bowed politely.
There was no answer beyond the curtain. Instead, there was the sound of a door closing behind her. When Angie looked back, Mrs. Dunst was gone.
"I..."
Angie moved her lips, unsure whether or not to approach the bed. Could it be that no one was there? Had he gone out for a moment without telling Mrs. Dunst? Or was he in the bathroom?
At that moment, Angie almost groaned in surprise. A shadow moving beyond the curtain caught her eyes.
“Come and sit down.”
"...Yes, yes."
“Don’t get too close. Sit by the window.”
The deep, low voice that still had a youthful tone contained the emotion typical of adolescence. It was a cold, sweet voice that seemed to have passed puberty or was in the midst of it.
Angie's heart began to beat strangely. She sat down on the chair, pressing her chest with one hand. It was a bit far from the bed, but her voice was still clear enough. A curtain was silently pulled back, revealing his outline more clearly.
“...Who are you?”
It was a voice so cold it made your liver shiver. It was almost like a voice that could cut you.
Mrs. Dunst was standing on the third-floor steps, looking down at her.
“Oh, Ma’am, I’m sorry!”
As Angie hurried up the stairs again, she realized what was so eerie. There was no smile on the child's face. It was as pale as a sheet of paper, completely devoid of emotion, more like a funeral painting than a family portrait.
And one more thing...
As Angie followed the maid down the third-floor hallway, she also realized one thing belatedly.
The dead Duchess Eugenia, the woman presumed to be Lord Kai's mother, was nowhere to be found on the walls. There were no photographs, no portraits, nothing.
“Angie, you probably already know this, but I’ll say it again.”
“Yes, Ma’am.”
Mrs. Dunst's eyes flashed sternly. Angie's shoulders stiffened under the pressure.
“Make sure to refrain from saying useless things to your Master. On the first day, try to answer only the questions that he asks.”
"...All right."
Angie swallowed hard. The girl was curious, but not reckless. She had a reputation in the village as being mature and thoughtful beyond her years.
The basement of the annex was a secret room consisting of dozens of mazes. Edward Liam Blackwell was locked in the innermost room of the maze. A fearsome lock was placed tightly on the door.
But the interior was far from a prison. The room looked comfortable and pleasant in every way, no different from a luxury hotel room.
Edward opened his eyes, hazy, with one hand and one foot chained. This seizure had been quite long. And it was getting longer each time. That could never be a good sign.
He moved his tightly bound wrists and pulled the rope hanging on the wall. A sturdy young man came in immediately and untied him.
“Jerome. How many days has it been?”
“Yes, Master. Today is the fifth day.”
The man answered with a face that showed no emotion. He waited with both hands clasped politely in front of him until his Master gave his next order.
“...Five days. The fifth day.”
“Please bear with me for a little while. The remedy for my Master will arrive tomorrow. So please, control your mind so that you don’t break the chain and leave the mansion. Sleeping pills aren’t working well these days, so I’m looking for other herbs on the island...”
“I’ll try to endure it.”
If it goes beyond ten days, it becomes dangerous. That's when he might have to seriously confine his body to this underground fortress. After all, if he goes completely out of control, he doesn't care who he hurt or if he burns down this mansion.
But here was his child. Edward's own flesh and blood son. His only family and blood ties.
“Kyle...?”
“He stays safe in his room. His Highness’s seventh remedy has just arrived.”
“Wasn’t it two months ago? The sixth time she was out... What a poor kid. How old is she this time?”
“She's sixteen. She's very healthy.”
Edward picked up the water bottle on the bed tray that Jerome had brought. As always, a burning thirst followed the seizure and overwhelmed his entire body.
“Jerome.”
“Yes, Master.”
“I need a woman.”
“I will prepare it right away.”
The servant bowed politely to him and immediately left the room. Edward ran his free hand through his black hair. Beneath his picturesque features, a bitter smile escaped his lips. It was a smile of self-loathing, vanity, and contempt for his own animal nature.
When the girl arrives, he'll have to shake his hips like this, with only his lower body exposed. Damn it...
Edward was desperate because he couldn't be free from the physiological phenomenon of having to eat, sleep, and empty his body of things in a proper cycle, no matter what the situation. Hot resentment welled up inside him.
If it weren't for his son Kyle, he would have burned this entire mansion down right now. His ancestors' terrible greed and vain delusions were not worth even a handful of ashes.
***
The seventh remedy was entering Blackwell's room. Angie covered her mouth with one hand to keep herself from screaming.
The bedroom was like a palace in a fairy tale book. It wasn't as cute as a Princess's room. However, the entire room was filled with a sense of luxury and dignity that couldn't be expressed in words.
But what surprised Angie wasn't the beauty of the interior. Of course, the overwhelming elegance and splendor were admirable, but there was something else that sent shivers down her spine.
The room was like a cave decorated like a palace. One long and high wall was covered with thick curtains. It was really strange. Outside, it was a bright late afternoon, but the room was extremely dark. During a strange silence, only the craft lamps placed here and there on the walls cast a soft light on the room.
“Ah... Hello, Young Master.”
Angie stammered as she walked toward the high, curtained bed. She couldn't tell if the other person was watching or not, but her body instinctively bowed politely.
There was no answer beyond the curtain. Instead, there was the sound of a door closing behind her. When Angie looked back, Mrs. Dunst was gone.
"I..."
Angie moved her lips, unsure whether or not to approach the bed. Could it be that no one was there? Had he gone out for a moment without telling Mrs. Dunst? Or was he in the bathroom?
At that moment, Angie almost groaned in surprise. A shadow moving beyond the curtain caught her eyes.
“Come and sit down.”
"...Yes, yes."
“Don’t get too close. Sit by the window.”
The deep, low voice that still had a youthful tone contained the emotion typical of adolescence. It was a cold, sweet voice that seemed to have passed puberty or was in the midst of it.
Angie's heart began to beat strangely. She sat down on the chair, pressing her chest with one hand. It was a bit far from the bed, but her voice was still clear enough. A curtain was silently pulled back, revealing his outline more clearly.
“...Who are you?”
It was a voice so cold it made your liver shiver. It was almost like a voice that could cut you.
Angie swallowed hard.
"Master Kyle is not feeling well. His skin is so sensitive that he cannot be exposed to sunlight, and he is so sick that he cannot go outside. That is why he needs a friend of his age. He needs a friend who will come over sometimes and talk to him about the outside world, read books to him, and be his conversation partner."
Her mother Laura's advice came to mind again.
"But the young Master has been ill for so long that he is extremely sensitive. He is very difficult, and perhaps a little bit harsh with you. But you must understand, Angie. You are perfectly healthy. And we all live in deep debt to the Blackwell family."
“Can’t you hear what I’m saying?”
Angie jumped from her seat at the sharp criticism flying at her.
“Huh? Sorry, sorry... I am. My name is Angie Ridsdell. You can call me Angie. My father and mother are Patrick and Laura Ridsdell, the caretakers of the North Shore cottages on the north shore.”
Angie's heart thumped strangely. From this side, she could only see the other person's shadow. On the other hand, from beyond the curtain that was fluttering slightly, she felt like he could see every single thing about her. There were no holes in the curtain, so that shouldn't be the case. But strangely, she felt exposed and defenseless.
“So. What are you doing here?”
Angie swallowed again. A seventeen-year-old boy who was sick and confined to a dark room - what could be the best comfort for him? How could she make him happy and joyful?
"From today, once a week, go and be a companion to Master Kyle."
"Master Kyle is not feeling well. His skin is so sensitive that he cannot be exposed to sunlight, and he is so sick that he cannot go outside. That is why he needs a friend of his age. He needs a friend who will come over sometimes and talk to him about the outside world, read books to him, and be his conversation partner."
Her mother Laura's advice came to mind again.
"But the young Master has been ill for so long that he is extremely sensitive. He is very difficult, and perhaps a little bit harsh with you. But you must understand, Angie. You are perfectly healthy. And we all live in deep debt to the Blackwell family."
“Can’t you hear what I’m saying?”
Angie jumped from her seat at the sharp criticism flying at her.
“Huh? Sorry, sorry... I am. My name is Angie Ridsdell. You can call me Angie. My father and mother are Patrick and Laura Ridsdell, the caretakers of the North Shore cottages on the north shore.”
Angie's heart thumped strangely. From this side, she could only see the other person's shadow. On the other hand, from beyond the curtain that was fluttering slightly, she felt like he could see every single thing about her. There were no holes in the curtain, so that shouldn't be the case. But strangely, she felt exposed and defenseless.
“So. What are you doing here?”
Angie swallowed again. A seventeen-year-old boy who was sick and confined to a dark room - what could be the best comfort for him? How could she make him happy and joyful?
"From today, once a week, go and be a companion to Master Kyle."
Ever since hearing the story from her mother yesterday, Angie has been thinking hard about it.
Angie wasn't particularly talented at singing or dancing. She was more confident than anyone else at sewing and embroidery, but that wasn't something she could show off to the young Master. And especially not in front of a high-ranking person like the children of the Duke of Blackwell. She didn't know any jokes that were funny enough to make people burst out laughing.
“I came to tell you a story.”
“...What story.”
How petty, that was what she said. Angie tried to sound brave. It would have been nothing more than a faint whisper to the other person, but she tried to muster up her courage anyway.
“I didn’t bring any books because you already have a lot of them.”
“...”
“I’m going to tell you a story I made up.”
“...”
There was no response beyond the curtain. Angie did not give in to it.
“I tell these stories to children and they respond quite well.”
Still no response. Oh, perhaps his pride was hurt by the thought of being treated like a child?
Angie wasn't particularly talented at singing or dancing. She was more confident than anyone else at sewing and embroidery, but that wasn't something she could show off to the young Master. And especially not in front of a high-ranking person like the children of the Duke of Blackwell. She didn't know any jokes that were funny enough to make people burst out laughing.
“I came to tell you a story.”
“...What story.”
How petty, that was what she said. Angie tried to sound brave. It would have been nothing more than a faint whisper to the other person, but she tried to muster up her courage anyway.
“I didn’t bring any books because you already have a lot of them.”
“...”
“I’m going to tell you a story I made up.”
“...”
There was no response beyond the curtain. Angie did not give in to it.
“I tell these stories to children and they respond quite well.”
Still no response. Oh, perhaps his pride was hurt by the thought of being treated like a child?
Angie quickly added. From the very first time they met, she felt a sense of crisis that she should not displease the Master.
“I... It’s not just children who like them. Adults also say they’re very unique and fun. There are stories that I made up from beginning to end, but there are also stories that I slightly twisted and rewrote with different endings based on real stories. I’ve changed all the Britannia novels at least once.”
“....”
“I... It’s not just children who like them. Adults also say they’re very unique and fun. There are stories that I made up from beginning to end, but there are also stories that I slightly twisted and rewrote with different endings based on real stories. I’ve changed all the Britannia novels at least once.”
“....”
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