Time of the Blind Beast - Chapter 35

“What kind of woman do you think is a good woman?”

Ezekiel seized on her words and asked in return. Though he wasn’t pleased with Rose’s cautious answer, he seemed willing to hear her out.

Rose hesitated before finally answering, “…A woman who can be a great help to you, Major.”

It wouldn’t be easy for him to find such a person in his current circumstances, but if Akenaus ever became a threat, a woman with a powerful family who could provide practical assistance would be far more beneficial to him than someone like her, who could only be a burden.

“You understand well. That’s you.”

“I don’t have the strength to help you, Major.”

“Your heart,” Ezekiel said, lifting his head. Fixing his gaze on her as if he could see her clearly, he continued, “Just give me your heart, like you’re doing now.”

For a moment, his expression held a depth that was oddly captivating.

What is my heart?

What has he felt from me?

The questions lingered in her mind, making her reflect carefully.

Ezekiel was not someone who could experience simple or straightforward emotions, and that contradiction always left her confused. Akenaus, on the other hand, was easier to deal with. He was someone she could simply hate and resent. Thinking of Ezekiel consumed far more emotional energy than Akenaus ever could.

If this feeling is also love, how unworthy is my first love?

She was grateful that he couldn’t fully see her expression. She could hide the trembling of her hands by keeping them still, and the quiver in her voice by staying silent. But the trembling in her eyes—there was no way to conceal that. His blindness had, so far, spared her from suspicion despite her occasional strange behavior.

The man who had asked for her heart resumed his earlier exploration. Gathering her breasts in his hands, he kissed the soft skin below them, tasting every part of her. He traced the curve of her ankle with his fingers, then moved upward along her calf and thigh.

When his hand circled her ankle and his fingers carefully explored her legs and hips, it felt as if he were mapping her body, memorizing her every feature. Rose couldn’t relax for a moment.

“Is it the lemon tea? You smell strongly of lemons,” he remarked casually.

She forced a smile.

“…It’s better than smelling bad.”

“Maybe. But I prefer your natural scent. Your body’s scent is faint, though—it quickly picks up other smells. On the day you first came into my bedroom, you smelled of rainwater and soap. It wasn’t until you were locked in the room with me, rolling around sweaty and disheveled, that I finally got a proper sense of your scent…”

When his touch grazed her entrance, a cold sweat broke out. She felt as if the lemon piece lodged deep inside her might give away its presence at any moment.

Only when his large body finally covered hers did Rose feel a measure of relief.

When pleasure came, her mind would soon become a chaotic mess. There would be no time to doubt or recall anything; time would blur and disappear in chunks.

Rose wrapped her arms around Ezekiel’s head, pulling him closer so that he would hurry and enter her. She wanted to shake away all her tangled thoughts and be consumed entirely.

The first thrust always came with a dull ache—a sensation that never seemed to improve, as Rose had learned from experience.

Ezekiel did his best to sense her pain, brushing her lips with his fingers to check if she was biting them, or pausing when he heard her take a sharp breath.

“It’s fine. It always hurts at first. If that’s the case, please, just push in fully and quickly…”

She grew anxious, worried he might notice the obstruction inside her while moving slowly. Gripping his arm tightly, she pulled him closer to herself.

“You’ll hurt yourself.”

“I’m fine, ah…!”

Rose had to quickly grow accustomed to his body. Taking slow breaths, she relaxed her muscles in sync with the tip of his length teasing and pressing at her entrance. The sensation of her opening stretching achingly to accommodate him sent waves of sweet pain coursing through her.

“Ahh… ah…”

“…Ha.”

Both let out simultaneous moans.

Gradually, he worked his way in, widening her entrance bit by bit until he finally pushed through the narrow passage.

“Ahh, ah!”

A sharp, bittersweet pleasure surged through her.

Rose panted heavily, feeling the fullness that now weighed inside her. The sensation of being completely joined resembled a kind of fulfillment.

How wonderful it would be if time could stop right now. With no past or future, only this moment to linger in—how perfect that would be.

As the stimulation began to swell within her, Rose was swept away by the rising tide, harboring futile wishes.

With a few slow thrusts, her body gradually softened, lubricating itself. The sticky sounds and increasing wetness would mask the secret she carried inside.

Rose prayed silently that the lemon wedge blocking her womb’s entrance would fulfill its purpose.

After a few rounds of intimacy, all her strength was drained. Just as she began to drift off into sleep, Rose felt a hand gently stroke her face, coaxing her eyes open.

Ezekiel asked in a low voice, “Did I wake you?”

“No… not yet… Can’t you sleep?”

“No. If I closed my eyes, I’d fall asleep right away.”

“Then why…?”

Her voice kept sinking, pulled down by the drowsiness she had barely escaped.

“While listening to the sound of your steady breathing, everything suddenly felt so strange. I no longer crave alcohol or opium, the pain has mostly disappeared, and even the cold and heat seem far away. It’s been so long since I’ve felt this peaceful, body and mind alike.”

Rose instinctively placed her hand over his, responding without thinking.

“You must have fully recovered. That’s a relief.”

Ezekiel clasped her hand and ran his fingers over its back.

“Yes, it is a relief. Which is why it’s time to write to Dr. Brehman, Rose.”

Her mind jolted awake.

The moment had finally arrived—it was time to begin the treatment.

Rose gazed at Ezekiel’s unfocused eyes.

Could light truly return to those eyes?

The future she had long delayed imagining was suddenly here, standing before her.

A faint tremor passed through her fingertips, as it had once before. She tried to pull her hand away and hide it, but Ezekiel noticed the subtle ripple of unease that passed through her.

“Why? Are you scared? Well, you did try to warn me about the risks.”

Rose hesitated briefly. She wanted to say no. She knew what he expected of her: to encourage him, to bolster his courage with assurances of success.

But with her trembling hand already giving her away, there was no point in trying to hide her true feelings.

Softly, Rose replied, “Yes, I’m scared.”

She was scared.

She was scared that his vision might return.

She was scared that it might not.

“You’re cautious because you’re fearful, and I’m fearless because I lack caution. Maybe that’s why we complement each other so well,” Ezekiel said with a short laugh.

He continued, “But I’m genuinely excited and hopeful. I’m looking forward to the results, to proving something to you—that ‘Major Valdemaira’ never fights a losing battle. Maybe it’s because you’ve done enough worrying for the both of us, but I don’t feel afraid at all. I just have this unshakable feeling that I’ll succeed.”

Then, with a resolute tone, he declared to her, “Rose, when my sight returns, the first thing I will look at is your face.”

Chapter 6: Uninvited Guest

“Who is that man?”

As always, while gathering lemons and settling into a corner of the kitchen, Rose noticed an unfamiliar man loitering near the back door. She gestured toward him with her eyes, prompting Anna to glance briefly in his direction.

“Oh, him? What was it… He said he’s here to deliver groceries.”

“Suddenly? Doesn’t the estate already have designated suppliers?”

“Apparently, he’s bringing in fresh, high-quality fruit. You like fruit, don’t you? All that lemon tea you’ve been making… The Master ordered daily deliveries to ensure we never run out.”

Rose realized Ezekiel must have noticed her habit of always eating the fruit while leaving other parts of her meals untouched.

Living in a dormitory with younger students, Rose had developed a fondness for fruit and sweet desserts. Especially during spring and summer, she and her fellow students would take baskets to pick wild berries, which they would then use to bake pies or make jams—a cherished tradition of hers.

“Have you noticed how the Master has mellowed recently?”

Anna didn’t seem to care about keeping her voice low.

“The other day, the cook accidentally swapped salt and sugar in the food. It tasted off, but all the Master did was ask us to check if it had spoiled and bring it back. In the past, he’d have flipped the table and yelled about whether this place was full of fools without taste buds. I think it’s thanks to you.”

Rose immediately knew which day Anna was referring to. That morning, she had been so drained from Ezekiel’s attentions—him pressing close the moment she woke up—that she had been unable to get up. She had fallen back asleep, while Ezekiel had eaten lunch separately with Madam Serva’s assistance.

“Did he?”

She hadn’t heard about it and had no idea. It must have been a trivial matter to pass so lightly.

“Yes. Later, we all tasted it and broke out in cold sweats, wondering how he hadn’t gotten angry.”

Anna looked amazed, and Rose simply nodded in response.

But perhaps this was closer to his true nature.

Someone excessively particular about food and environment wouldn’t have endured days in a trench under extreme conditions or meals of hard, tasteless military biscuits.

Though he was raised in a prestigious family and naturally had refined tastes, his patience and resilience were what made him a successful soldier. Ezekiel was indifferent to heat, cold, pain, and hunger. Even during his withdrawal from opium, when they were together, he had warned Rose, If you don’t let go of me, you might get hurt too, but he never demanded or begged for her immediate assistance.

If he had hated hardships, uncomfortable beds, and unappetizing meals, he would have fought to stay in Clarice like Akenaus, scheming to send someone else to the military in his place. But Ezekiel had volunteered for service without hesitation.

In essence, Ezekiel’s previous intolerance wasn’t about the quality of food but the attitude and effort of the servants.

Since losing his sight, he couldn’t trust whether mistakes were genuine or deliberate acts of mockery directed at him, so he had lashed out deliberately to assert himself.

“But… is it really okay for me to keep speaking so casually to you like this?”

In the middle of their conversation, Anna suddenly widened her eyes in realization.