Time of the Blind Beast - Chapter 10

“Rose, move to the first floor immediately. From now on, don’t worry about any other tasks in the mansion—your sole duty is to serve the master.”

Though it was just a single sentence, the decision was carried out with remarkable speed.

Madam Serva even arranged for Rose to stay in the adjacent room connected to Ezekiel’s bedroom by a narrow corridor. The rooms were so close that only one door needed to be opened for access. In one day, Rose’s position shifted from that of a laundry maid to the master’s personal attendant.

“I suppose I’ll have to find someone to replace you in the laundry room,” Madam Serva remarked as she slowly stood, pressing her knees to steady herself. When Rose instinctively moved to help her, Madam Serva lightly pushed her arm away.

“Rose, I won’t be giving you any more orders from now on. You don’t need to concern yourself with me or any other employees in this mansion. The only person you need to focus on is the master. Only he has the right to give you instructions.”

The sound of Madam Serva’s cane tapping on the floor faded as she walked away.

Rose glanced back at Ezekiel, who merely tilted his chin, gesturing as though he could see her perfectly.

“Read the letter.”

It was his first order. Rose responded in a somewhat awkward tone, “Yes, master.”

He immediately corrected her. “Call me Major.”

Rose was taken aback, uncertain why he would change the title, but Ezekiel added as if reading her confusion.

“‘Master’ doesn’t suit the way you speak.”

Earlier, when Rose had referred to him as “Major” in a calm, low voice that revived memories of the battlefield, Ezekiel had felt an unexpected chill run down his spine. It was similar to the feeling he had experienced the first time he drank wine laced with laudanum.

Whether it was shock or excitement, he wasn’t sure.

Moreover, Rose had never worked for anyone before. She sounded awkward, especially when saying the word “master,” as if she were unused to such a term.

Rose repeated, using the title he had corrected, “Yes, Major.”

It sounded much better to his ears. Ezekiel nodded approvingly.

The large envelope that Madam Serva had left on the table remained untouched. As Rose picked it up, a thought suddenly crossed her mind.

“Is it really alright for someone like me, a civilian, to read a letter from the military?”

At her question, Ezekiel snorted. “If it were classified, they wouldn’t have let anyone else touch it.”

Ah, of course. If the matter were truly important, the sender would have come to speak with Ezekiel directly.

“Check the seal first,” Ezekiel instructed.

Rose placed his fingers over the wax seal, and his thumb carefully traced the raised imprint. His fingers moved with delicate precision as he felt the pattern engraved in the wax.

“It’s from Montcalm,” he confirmed after a moment.

The name alone told Ezekiel that it was a reconnaissance report.

‘Reconnaissance.’ Rose silently repeated the word to herself.

What was being searched for?

A cold unease crept into her chest, but she forced the feeling down as she broke the seal.

The letter began with a brief greeting from Montcalm, but quickly moved on to the main point.

“…I’m investigating the young woman you mentioned—a beauty in her late teens to early twenties with brown hair and hazel eyes. I’ve secretly contacted the employees of the Valdemaira estate and described her features. Several women who roughly match the description have been identified, but they all have solid alibis for the day in question.”

Her fear was well-founded.

The letter was a mid-investigation report, tracking her movements.

“However, one of the kitchen staff mentioned that a stranger helped out at the estate that day. Because she kept her head down and blended in with the crowd, the witnesses couldn’t be sure if she matched the description, but they recall thinking a pretty new girl had arrived. This woman hasn’t been seen since.”

The description pointed directly at her. For a moment, Rose’s heart dropped.

Afraid that her reaction would give her away, she paused and took a deep breath to steady herself.

“What’s wrong?”

Ezekiel had sharp instincts, honed from years on the battlefield.

Rose forced herself to cough. “I’m sorry. My throat was a bit dry.”

What would happen if he realized that the woman he was looking for was right in front of him, reading the letter aloud?

“Continue.”

How would he react?

The letter went on.

“It’s believed that she might have caught the eye of Akenaus Valdemaira and was taken away. Apparently, such things are not uncommon at the estate—women often enter as maids with the hope of becoming mistresses and securing wealth.”

“She caught Akenaus’s eye, huh… Yes, I could see that. She was that kind of woman.”

Rose tightened her grip on the letter, her hands trembling slightly as she forced herself to finish reading.

“…I plan to investigate the women Akenaus Valdemaira has recently been in contact with. I’ll report back soon. Additionally, I’ve procured several bottles of laudanum for you, even though on the battlefield, you never asked for painkillers when you were shot. The military doctor who prescribed it says your current dosage is dangerously high. Perhaps you should see a doctor for an evaluation?”

“Nonsense,” Ezekiel muttered under his breath, as if Montcalm were standing in front of him.

“And the medicine?” asked Ezekiel.

Rose tilted the envelope, and several small bottles rolled out. She placed five bottles of laudanum in his hand, her fingers brushing against his skin for a brief moment.

“Your hands are cold.”

It was true—her hands were freezing from the tension. Rose quickly clasped her hands together to warm them.

“Yes.”

“They’re as cold as ice.”

“My body is naturally cold.”

Ezekiel’s thoughts drifted to a memory from a rainy night. He had suspected her of hiding poison on her person, so he had torn her clothes to pieces, searching her body thoroughly. Her body, as he had touched it then, had been undeniably cold.

The memory of her slender, neatly aligned bones, faint warmth, and the subtle scent she carried passed through his mind like a fleeting haze.

Yes, he recalled the night clearly. He had drunk bitter wine while his fingers absorbed the faint scent of her skin.

It must have been a terrible experience for her.

Throughout the war, Ezekiel had encountered countless women. Some were still alive, while others were already dead. The one common thread among them was that they all remained in their homes.

When war broke out, husbands and sons were forcibly conscripted. Only prestigious families like the Valdemaira were granted the privilege of leaving one child behind to carry on the family line. For commoners, everyone except for newborns and elderly in poor health were conscripted as soldiers.

Women, who had sent their loved ones off to war, lived in constant fear, yet they couldn’t bring themselves to leave their homes, always waiting for their family’s return. This was true for the women of Astrie and Davis alike. Despite knowing full well what strange and brutal soldiers might do to them, they stayed behind to guard their homes.

Most of the women who encountered soldiers were ultimately exploited, their bodies violated, before being shot and killed. Soldiers, who had left behind their own wives and daughters, turned ravenously on other men’s wives and daughters. In one village Ezekiel came across while moving along the front lines, every woman had been dragged out and massacred in cold blood. The victims ranged from girls as young as ten to elderly women, spanning all ages.

The chivalry of knights, the code of gentlemen—none of it existed on the battlefield.

Even men from noble families, who had received fine education, were no exception. Some might maintain their own honor, never casting a sidelong glance at women, but they turned a blind eye to the “hunting games” or “parties” carried out by the common soldiers behind the lines. In fact, many encouraged it, believing such activities were a way to relieve the stress and tension of war.

However, when Ezekiel saw a woman break into sobs, hiding her young daughter—no older than five or six—behind her back upon spotting the approaching army, and when he witnessed women choosing to end their own lives the moment they saw the soldiers, without bothering to distinguish between friend or foe, he was struck deeply.

From that day on, Ezekiel had given strict orders to his men: no one was to touch the women of the occupied territories. Neither their bodies nor their belongings were to be taken.

Yet, despite his code of conduct, Rose had been the first woman he had ever violated. In other words, no other servant had ever set foot in his private quarters out of fear of what might follow. Yet, Rose had entered the room others avoided and had been exploited.

Exploitation doesn’t necessarily mean only physical violation. It can also refer to something that touches a part of the heart—humiliation, self-esteem, or fear.

Rose, the woman who came bearing the damp scent of rain and the comforting smell of freshly washed soap, had lain there with her body stiff as a board, breathing heavily as he searched her body. She didn’t cry, but no one would have been surprised if she had fled the very next day.

And yet, despite the humiliation she had suffered, she had stayed. According to Serva, she was a diligent and reliable servant.

Ezekiel couldn’t help but wonder why. Was she that desperate? Was she so impoverished that she had no choice but to endure this?

It was a time when war had left countless people destitute. The northern and eastern regions had been especially hard hit.

But then Rose had mentioned something that surprised him: that she had been one of the students whose lives he had saved at Milena Girls’ School. It was an unexpected connection.

“Major.”

She was a woman who remembered a title even he sometimes forgot.

She was a woman who gently stirred his scars.

And so, without thinking, he asked,

“How old are you?”