Time of the Blind Beast - Chapter 2

In order to calm her coughing, she lowered her voice. Her rough, hoarse tone was close to a faint whisper. If the blanket hadn’t muffled the sound of the rain, it might not have been heard at all.

“…Search, you say.”

The man listened for a moment to the sound of her shallow breaths. Her chest rose and fell lightly, just enough to match the amount of air he allowed her.

She lay completely still beneath him, her body devoid of any resistance, awaiting his decision.

“Fine.”

His decision was made.

The hand that had fiercely gripped her throat now pressed against her lips. She obediently opened her mouth in response to the silent command. His hand explored her mouth and tongue before gripping her jaw in a threatening manner, then slowly slid down to her collarbone. Only then could she exhale with some relief.

“At least your eyes, nose, and mouth seem to be in the right places.”

With his fingertips, the man discerned the hollow beneath her prominent collarbone. She had almost no flesh on her bones—he could feel her frame clearly.

His fingers caught on the strap of her nightgown, which he tore off without hesitation. The gown shredded quickly, falling to tatters as his hands gripped and pulled at whatever they could. He tossed the fragments of fabric to the floor, checking to see if there were any unfamiliar sounds mixed in. The pieces of cloth fluttered down softly with barely a sound, and there were no suspicious signs.

The woman who had boldly told him to search her body lay still beneath him, not moving an inch.

He brought his nose close to her skin, using his remaining senses to observe her. The fine, downy hairs on her skin tickled his nose. It was likely the area behind her ear or the nape of her neck.

Her hair, spread across the sheets, was soft and long. Burying his face in it, he inhaled deeply. The scent of rainwater and laundry soap, lingering from when she had been at the window earlier, filled his nose.

“Come to think of it, your voice sounded unfamiliar.”

Despite the suddenness of his question, she calmly responded, “I’ve been here for a week.”

So that’s why it sounded unfamiliar. The new hires at the mansion were assigned to the most remote areas, where they wouldn’t run into him. She must have been responsible for laundry.

He slowly ran his hand down her body, following the contours of her bones. His fingers brushed against the swell of her breast. The sensation was like holding a lump of clay in his hand. As his fingers traced the curve of her breast, it fit snugly into his palm, and the tip of her nipple scratched his palm.

Her breath wavered slightly. Her skin, warmed by her breath, rose and fell gently. Whether due to the cold or tension, her body temperature was somewhat low.

He felt the bumps of her ribs. Below them, her waist was so slender it barely filled his hand. His hand moved past her waist and over the round curve of her pelvis before tearing through the seam of her undergarments. Now, she was completely naked, with nothing left to cover herself.

Despite her calm demeanor, her body was honest in its fear. Her tense thighs obstructed his advance, though it wasn’t something that concerned him.

His hand twisted her flesh aside. Without any moisture, the rough entrance was crudely penetrated by two of his fingers. With no sight to guide him, his fingers roughly scraped and twisted through the dry tissue. There was no sexual intent in his actions; it was purely a body search.

His merciless intrusion caused unfamiliar pain. His thick, long fingers probed shockingly deep inside her. Since she had nothing to hide, there was nothing for him to find. She endured the invasion in silence, her lips tightly pressed together until his fingers withdrew.

Every second felt like an hour. After thoroughly searching her body, his grip on her wrists loosened.

She slowly lowered her freed arms. As she moved, one corner of the blanket slipped open, allowing the cold air outside to rush in, instantly cooling her body, which had been heated by the shared warmth trapped under the blanket.

She picked up the largest piece of torn clothing and used it to cover herself. Her legs ached and tingled from the pain inside, causing her to limp as she stood.

“If you’ll allow it, I’ll take my leave now.”

Even though she knew he couldn’t see, she bowed her head one last time before turning to leave.

“Name.”

His slow voice halted her steps momentarily.

After a brief pause, she answered, “…Rose. My name is Rose.”

The man tilted his chin, signaling her dismissal.

Just before she opened the door to leave, Rose glanced back at him.

He was already paying no attention to her, fumbling to match the long neck of a half-empty wine bottle with a small vial. A drop of amber liquid fell from the vial into the wine, accompanied by a faint sweet scent—the same smell she had detected earlier.

The man swirled the wine with the mixture before taking a gulp. The smoothness of his actions surprised Rose. It was clear he had done this countless times, enough that it was second nature to him, despite his blindness.

When she stepped out, the gathered servants in the hallway exchanged relieved glances. Though it was obvious that she had entered fully clothed and emerged carrying nothing but rags, no one asked what had happened inside.

Someone draped a robe over her exposed back.

This was a place where nothing shocked anyone, no matter what occurred.

This was the Beast’s Mansion.

***

“Rose, how is your neck?”

Madam Serva approached, parting the steam in the laundry room. Having been delayed by the storm, she had only returned to the mansion at dawn in her carriage.

Rose cleared her throat with a small cough. “I’m fine.”

But despite her answer, her voice was still hoarse.

It wasn’t until she awoke that morning that she saw the dark bruises left by his fingers wrapped around her neck. She didn’t even need to mention the state of her thighs, where his weight had pressed down on her. She had hurriedly wrapped a handkerchief around her neck to cover the marks, but most of the servants had already seen the bruises on her body from the night before. That was why no one had said anything.

“It must have been a terrible shock. If only I hadn’t been away yesterday…”

Madam Serva, who managed the mansion and served as the chamberlain, was an elderly woman with a full head of white hair. Despite her age, she was tall and upright, though her vision had deteriorated so much that she couldn’t see clearly without her thick spectacles, and she always had to click her cane as she walked, due to her bad knees.

“No, it’s fine,” Rose replied, denying it.

But Madam Serva, having heard the whole story from the other servants, lifted the handkerchief around Rose’s neck instead of accepting her explanation. With her eyes enlarged by her thick glasses, she closely examined the black handprint encircling her neck.

Clucking her tongue, she murmured, “Will he ever stop this nonsense only when this old woman finally collapses from tending to him alone in her old, sick body?”

It was clear what Madam Serva was worried about. She feared that Rose might quit the mansion because of what had happened.

In fact, the number of servants at the mansion was small, partly because they wanted to keep the blind war hero’s condition hidden from the outside world. However, it was also because most of the servants couldn’t handle the man’s unpredictable temper and had fled one after another.

Rose adjusted the knot of her handkerchief. “…I won’t quit because of this. Don’t worry.”

Hearing Rose’s firm reassurance, Madam Serva’s expression brightened noticeably. “…I knew I wasn’t wrong about you. From the moment I first saw you, I thought you were a careful and thoughtful young lady.”

“Me? Why?”

“Because you came at night. No matter how short-staffed we are, we don’t hire anyone who comes during the day.”

This must be another rule of the mansion.

There were many strange rules in this place. Rules that didn’t need understanding but required absolute obedience. Rose lowered her gaze.

“It may be hard to accept, but try not to think too badly of Lord Ezekiel.”

“Of course not.”

“He wasn’t always this difficult before he lost his sight…”

Now that she had confirmed Rose had no intention of quitting, Madam Serva subtly began to defend the master of the house.

“I still remember the night Lord Ezekiel arrived at this mansion. It was a stormy night, just like this one. He said he deliberately chose a bad night to leave, so no one could follow him. He didn’t even pack his things and came with only a few of the subordinates who had fought alongside him. He couldn’t sit on the horse himself, so he was carried here, strapped to the saddle.”

The old woman’s eyes clouded over with the memory, and she added with a sigh, “All the way from the capital of Claris to Derosa, without even the flag of Valdemaira… like a sack of cargo.”