Time of the Blind Beast - Chapter 33

Rose carried the tray with a hot teapot and teacup. The tea was freshly brewed, and since the lemon hadn’t yet ripened, she had added honey to cover the sourness, but she wasn’t confident it would taste good.

Still, she couldn’t find a better excuse for now.

By giving him lemon tea every night, she could mask any lemon scent that might linger on her body. No matter how often she washed her hands, the tangy smell of cutting lemons didn’t completely disappear.

She stood before his bedroom door, about to knock when the door abruptly swung open.

“Come in.”

It was Ezekiel.

“Did you know it was me?”

“I recognize your footsteps. You walk so lightly, almost without placing your heels down. Sometimes it feels like you’re dancing.”

It was the first time she’d heard such a thing. She hadn’t noticed her own gait. Rose quickly examined her posture.

Perhaps this sensitivity allowed him to navigate the mansion as if he weren’t blind.

What else might this man secretly know about her habits?

For no particular reason, Rose found herself paying attention to the sound of her footsteps. She deliberately shifted her weight onto her heels, causing her steps to echo unevenly, like a child just learning to walk.

Pretending not to notice Ezekiel’s amused smile, she entered the room and set down the teapot. The refreshing scent of lemon quickly spread throughout the entire bedroom.

“What’s this?”

“Lemon tea. They say it’s good for insomnia. Please drink it regularly.”

She had never heard of lemon aiding sleep and doubted it made sense, but she went ahead with the lie she had prepared, placing the warm cup of lemon tea into Ezekiel’s hands.

“Won’t it wake me up instead?”

“Maybe at first, but it should have a calming effect soon after.”

“It feels more invigorating than calming.”

“If it doesn’t help, I’ll prepare a different tea for sleep. But I made this lemon tea myself.”

Though he didn’t seem to believe in the tea’s effects, he drank it down without question as Rose watched. She had deliberately brewed it hot to buy herself time, but he drank it as quickly as he would lukewarm tea.

The teacup emptied in no time. Startled, Rose scolded him.

“Drink slowly. What if you burn yourself?”

“Did you really think I’d leisurely enjoy tea time at this hour? Rose, you overestimate me.”

“…Did it taste okay?”

Making him drink such an intensely sour lemon tea, only to ask about the taste afterward, felt absurd. Ezekiel chuckled softly and pulled Rose toward him. He cupped her face with familiar ease and kissed her lips. After so many shared kisses in the bedroom and bathroom, they could align perfectly even with their eyes closed.

“What do you think?”

The citrusy scent of lemon was dizzying. Cautiously, Rose licked her lips. The soft inside of her lips carried a faint fruity flavor. It tasted more like raw lemon juice than tea, yet the sourness had mellowed into sweetness after passing through his lips.

How strange.

His lips couldn’t possibly be made of sugar. Was it just her imagination?

Rose pressed her lips with her fingers.

“It’s sweet.”

“Delicious, isn’t it?”

Ezekiel agreed.

Sharing sensations meant sharing the same tastes, smells, and textures. The lemon tea he drank through her was fragrant and delightful.

He added in a calm voice, “Just like you.”

He had been waiting all day for night to fall, for the time when he could finally be alone with Rose without interruptions.

Rose’s days had become busier. To be precise, everyone around her had become busier. During the period when he and Rose were confined to a single room for nursing, it had been eerily quiet. But now, everyone seemed to need her for something trivial: asking when to collect laundry, announcing meals were ready, or seeking permission to tidy the bedroom. To Ezekiel, it was all maddeningly insignificant.

“Does no one here have any sense?”

Frustrated by how often Rose was being called away, Ezekiel finally summoned Madam Serva. She arrived with a puzzled expression but quickly grasped the source of his irritation and began to explain.

“It seems the sudden absence of the usual rules has caused some confusion.”

“What rules?”

“Servants naturally operate according to established routines. Your daily life used to be very structured, but since you decided to stop taking medicine, we’ve had no idea how you spend your days.”

The staff had been relying solely on the closed bedroom door, depending entirely on Rose’s judgment and instructions as she stayed locked inside, wholly focused on nursing him. In addition, the man and woman confined in the same room had inevitably grown closer, both in mind and body. Rose’s presence had become a new variable in Ezekiel’s once predictable routine. It was only natural that everyone now sought Rose for anything related to him.

Madam Serva elaborated further.

“Order will be restored in a few days, so there’s no need to worry. And if Rose becomes the lady of the house, she’ll need to oversee matters and manage the staff directly. This is a good opportunity for her to learn naturally. Even in a smaller household, a lady has many responsibilities.”

Ezekiel understood. If he couldn’t regain his sight, Rose would need to become the center of this household. Madam Serva’s intentions in keeping Rose busy were clear.

But the night was different. The night, when work ended and the day wound down, was his time to have Rose entirely to himself.

“Rose.”

With everyone else gone, the world finally felt at peace. Ezekiel pressed his forehead against Rose’s and slowly sensed her presence. From her forehead, his touch moved to her nose bridge, then to the tips of their noses, brushing against each other in turn.

“I didn’t need all that trouble. My cure for insomnia is right here.”

The effects of expending his pent-up energy were undeniable. Typically, his physical strength had no outlet, accumulating without release. At first, he had been cautious and deliberate, adapting to Rose’s body. But as their intimacy deepened and Rose, though groaning and struggling, began to accept him fully, he pushed beyond limits, carrying her as if she weighed nothing and letting himself go without restraint.

Unable to keep up with his stamina, Rose eventually collapsed, her limbs dropping limply like the strings of a broken doll. She didn’t even stir in her sleep.

Beside the utterly exhausted Rose, Ezekiel rested his face against her forehead and closed his eyes. It had been an exceptionally long time since he fell asleep without relying on alcohol or medication, waking up the next morning with a clear mind.

“What I need is you, Rose.”

His deep voice lingered in her ears, sending a warmth through her chest. Rose instinctively lowered her gaze.

Rose. A name so plain and simple sounded elegant when spoken by him.

The name “Rose,” originally given by Akenaus on a whim, had seemed like a hastily chosen alias at first. But when Ezekiel spoke it, it carried a resonance akin to the seasons, reminiscent of a blooming flower. His voice evoked a cascade of emotions.

For a moment, her heart ached faintly.

…What if my real name were Rose?

The thought began to branch out.

If that were true, I could indulge in this moment of elation.

If I truly had red hair and green eyes, I could let him imagine and touch my face as much as he wanted without worrying.

If I weren’t the one who had ruined his eyes, and if I had instead fallen innocently for a soldier who had protected my school from the enemy…

Then…

Perhaps I could have dreamed of a slightly different future.

Suddenly, an inexplicable ache flared deep inside her, along the path where the lemon piece had been inserted. Though the initial insertion had been painful, she hadn’t felt anything afterward—until now.

Ezekiel’s hands moved purposefully, sliding under her collar and tracing the curve of her back. One hand caressed her while the other undid the ties of her clothing and removed them. The fabric slipped down her calves.

It took only two steps. In just two steps, Rose stood bare, her unclothed body reclining sideways on the bed.

The man’s hair tickled her cheek. Though Ezekiel could precisely sense his surroundings, he couldn’t make fine adjustments. This led him to develop a habit of keeping some part of his body in constant contact with Rose. Through these points of contact, he gauged how close she was and what position she was in.

Even now, he was pressing his thickly muscled thigh against the inside of her leg. The softest part of her skin was juxtaposed with the hardest part of his body. The stark contrast in texture was striking every time. Occasionally, Rose would carefully trace the contours of his muscles, marveling at the sensation as they twitched subtly beneath her touch.

Ezekiel’s throat rumbled lightly.

“Rose, say that you need me too.”