Time of the Blind Beast - Chapter 29

In the end, Rose crossed the line. Whether she screamed or not, she couldn’t quite remember. Her consciousness shattered and reassembled in the climax of ecstasy.

Her vision swelled with whiteness. Tears streamed down the corners of her eyes.

Ezekiel, drenched in sweat, embraced Rose’s back and followed her. Aligning the tip of his length perfectly with her deepest, hollowed place, he released the evidence of his ecstasy in surging waves.

Their heavy breathing scattered into the air.

Even after the lingering echoes of their union faded, Ezekiel remained inside her for a while longer. He deliberately made a few shallow movements, causing wet, sticky sounds to fill the air.

Rose, are you smiling now? Or crying?

He reached out to her face to answer this question. Touching her quivering lips and stroking the corners of her eyes, he found the tender skin beneath her eyes wet with tears. Without hesitation, he licked them away.

“Haa…”

Was it because of the excessive pleasure? Every stimulus from him felt overwhelmingly intense.

The sensation of his long member slowly withdrawing from her, scraping against her sensitive flesh, was unbearably erotic. Rose unconsciously arched her back.

How much had he stretched her insides?

When he left her, the emptiness he left behind was palpable. Rose inadvertently pressed down on her lower abdomen, only to find her hand meeting Ezekiel’s member as he continued to caress her.

Ezekiel chuckled softly. “Feel it. That’s what was inside you.”

“……”

He guided her hand to his still wet and swollen member, slick with their combined fluids. Hesitant at first, Rose eventually took hold of it. Unsure of where to start, she hesitated for a moment before carefully tracing its surface with her fingers. The texture fascinated her. However, as soon as she began to explore, it hardened further, swelling against her hand.

“…Major?”

“Who told you to touch it so delicately?”

“Was that… my doing?”

In truth, it wouldn’t have mattered whether she touched him gently or squeezed firmly. No man would remain unaffected by stimulation from a woman he had just been intimate with. Ezekiel simply needed an excuse to lay Rose back down naturally.

The night was far from over.

The remnants of arousal coursed through him.

“Yes, it was you.”

If you’ve aroused it, you must take responsibility.

He pressed his hardened length back into Rose’s softened, wet entrance. Her insides, now loosened from their earlier encounter, accepted him with ease.

Once again, their shadows merged as they began to move as one.

By morning, when Ezekiel called Madam Serva to prepare bathwater, Rose awkwardly faced the old woman with a flushed face. Despite her efforts to erase the traces of their intimacy, Madam Serva, with her years of experience, was not so easily fooled. Rose wished she could hide in another room, but abandoning her duties as a maid would have been a dereliction of responsibility.

“Rose, there’s no need to look so embarrassed.”

Noticing Rose’s unease, Madam Serva pulled her aside and spoke softly. She had already guessed what had transpired the night before the moment she entered the bedroom.

“I’ve always thought this day would come. I was certain the master would hold you dear.”

“…Don’t worry.”

Rose hesitated before opening her mouth. Saying such things herself felt embarrassing, but it seemed necessary to clarify now to avoid causing trouble later.

“You won’t have anything to worry about. I’ll continue to do my job diligently and won’t cause any trouble for the Major or the other staff.”

“Trouble? Not at all. In fact, it seems like I’ll be the one relying on you more. Soon, you’ll be taking responsibility for this mansion. Since you’re the only one who can attend to Master Ezekiel, managing multiple tasks might be a bit challenging. But moving forward, you’ll also need to learn about the household operations and how to manage the staff properly.”

Rose couldn’t believe what she was hearing. She widened her eyes in shock.

“No! I could never…”

Her place was as a maid. She had never dared to hope for anything more.

“Why not, Rose? When a man and a woman come to care for each other, taking responsibility is only natural.”

That wasn’t true. Ezekiel had no obligation to bear any responsibility for their relationship. From the moment Rose entered this mansion, she had resolved to simply be a cog in the wheel, ensuring that his daily life ran smoothly. If she could ease his physical and emotional burdens, that would be enough.

Ezekiel was human, of course. It was only natural for him to have desires. And as the only young woman in this remote northern estate, she had inevitably become the object of his temporary affection. In such an isolated environment, it was unsurprising that his attention would momentarily fall on her.

It was important not to attach excessive meaning to it.

“Didn’t you feel anything when you saw him? Didn’t your heart race? Didn’t you want to kiss him?”

“It’s not like something so far-fetched would ever happen to me.”

Children raised in families with limited means usually fall into two categories: those who come to terms with their circumstances with razor-sharp awareness, or those who plot to climb the social ladder by any means necessary.

Rose belonged to the former.

If he hadn’t lost his sight, would he have even spared a glance at a maid performing menial tasks from the Valdemaira estate?

Of course not. He would have scrutinized every condition, carefully selecting a woman who matched his status and reputation. Even Akenaus, known for his fondness for pretty faces regardless of their origins, only kept such women briefly for his amusement and never gave them his heart.

Rose had rarely harbored ambitions beyond her station. Her naturally modest disposition, combined with an environment that offered few opportunities for advancement, kept her grounded.

“Honestly… If he wanted me even once, I think I’d just close my eyes and go for it. Having a chance with such a handsome and accomplished man, even for a single night, I’d live the rest of my life cherishing that memory.”

The students of Milena Girls’ School were right. This was the most realistic outcome. To hope for anything more was unthinkable—and she shouldn’t hope for it.

Rose shook her head vehemently. “I’m just an ordinary maid. The Major is of the Valdemaira family.”

“Oh, come now. You must have heard things here and there while attending school. Sure, there are plenty of scoundrels who use their status to toy with women. But Master Ezekiel isn’t like that. I raised him, and I can assure you of that. He will take responsibility for you because that’s what’s right.”

Madam Serva watched Rose’s flustered expression and quickly changed the subject.

“Now that I think about it, this has happened much later than I expected. Truthfully, I began suspecting something on the night the master threw those glass bottles and caused a commotion.”

Rose blushed as she tried to explain. “That was a misunderstanding. If you had seen how much the Major was suffering from the aftereffects, you wouldn’t have thought that.”

“Oh, I could tell just from looking at him. And frankly, it’s more evident with him than with you. This was bound to happen sooner or later, so don’t be too embarrassed about it, Rose.”

While Rose grappled with her embarrassment in front of Madam Serva, the bath preparations were completed.

“Rose, come here.”

Ezekiel called for her from a distance. It seemed he intended for them to bathe together again. Covered in sweat from the night before, Rose silently approached him without resistance this time.

Sensing her proximity, Ezekiel reached out and grabbed her hand firmly.

“Oh, right.”

Just before leaving the room after dismissing the other staff, Madam Serva turned back to the two of them.

“Master, a letter arrived for you. You were unwell, so I hadn’t given it to you earlier. But now seems like a good time.”

“I was wondering why there hadn’t been any news.”

Another letter.

While Ezekiel remained composed, Rose froze in place. A chilling unease ran down her spine. She felt as if she’d woken from a nightmare, her skin prickling with cold.

She glanced at the letter Madam Serva handed over. The handwriting on the envelope was all too familiar.

Montcalm

It was from one of his subordinates, tracking her whereabouts.