Time of the Blind Beast - Chapter 38

Recently, there had been a few subtle but nagging concerns. Nothing overtly alarming, but like a hangnail catching on fabric, they left a lingering unease.

“Rose. Has someone entered the bedroom?”

Again.

Rose glanced around the room. From what she could see, nothing had changed. Yet for the past few days, Ezekiel had repeatedly pointed out that something in the bedroom felt off.

“It was probably the cleaners. They asked me about the time earlier.”

However, Ezekiel shook his head at Rose’s speculation.

“No. It’s not that. It’s only a slight difference, but it’s not the way you or the others usually clean and arrange things.”

Even with his explanation, Rose could barely perceive any difference. Of course, that was to be expected. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t match Ezekiel’s instincts—honed by a lifetime of tracking and analyzing the slightest traces of enemies. What most people wouldn’t even notice, he could sense with unnerving precision.

“Could it have been a thief?”

“Unlikely. Nothing is missing.”

It was far more probable that a servant had accidentally nudged something while cleaning. But Rose kept that thought to herself. After all, there was always the chance of an unlikely possibility.

If someone truly had been snooping around the bedroom, how could they catch the intruder?

“What about the second floor?”

“I’ll ask Madam Serva to check. She inspects the valuables every day.”

Despite her aching knee, Madam Serva never neglected her duty of managing the estate’s valuables. And since she had made no reports by evening, it was safe to assume that everything remained in place. Ezekiel, of all people, knew this best.

So, while he suspected an intruder, he also acknowledged that it could simply be an overlooked trace left by a servant, deciding to withhold judgment for now.

“Lemon tea again today?”

“Yes.”

Rose skillfully steeped the tea and handed it to him. Ezekiel accepted it just as naturally.

“It keeps tasting better.”

After swallowing a few gulps, Ezekiel tilted his head slightly.

“Was it bad before?”

“It was good. It’s just even better now.”

She knew it was just a passing compliment. Even so, for a man who had never needed to consider another’s feelings to show such thoughtfulness—it was strangely endearing.

She shouldn’t feel this way, yet her heart drifted in a direction beyond her control. Perhaps now she understood why people claimed they didn’t truly know their own hearts. Rose took a sip of the remaining tea she had prepared for herself.

It was sour.

And sweet.

Just like her emotions.

“A peaceful midnight tea time like this… I never would have imagined such a thing before.”

Ezekiel set down his teacup and let out a light chuckle.

“It’s all thanks to you, Rose. The day I fled to Derosa in the dead of winter, I thought of it as my exile. But now, it feels more like a vacation.”

Danger always came from unexpected directions when one was at ease. Ezekiel had learned this through Akenaus. And through Rose, he had learned that even in despair, something beautiful could still bloom.

His desires only grew stronger.

When he had first pressured Dr. Brehman into promising a forced treatment, he had accepted that it was a gamble—a final attempt to end the endless darkness.

But now, he desperately wanted to regain his sight. There were too many things he wanted to see.

Ezekiel imagined himself with his vision restored.

The moment his sight returned, the first thing he would do was rip down every last black curtain in this house, ensuring that Rose could see him standing under the light.

Then, he would make love to her while looking directly into her eyes—capturing in full detail every expression, every nuance of her that he had only been able to perceive through touch, sound, and taste.

Looking back, this past winter had been a complete mess. He had met Rose while drowning in alcohol and drugs, and even after that, he had abandoned himself to despair. He had wallowed in self-loathing and weakness. Only now did he regret the purposeless inertia of those days.

“I never thought a day would come when I could feel so at peace.”

Sitting on the bed, he pulled Rose toward him. When she obediently leaned into him, he lifted her onto his lap.

“Rose. You make me want to be a good man.”

He wanted to become a good man for her.

He wanted to find her a new school—not too far from home, with an even better teacher—so she could finish the education she had left incomplete.

He wanted to soothe, examine, and apply medicine to the body that had endured so many bruises and wounds while nursing him.

Just as she had always done for him.

Ezekiel wrapped both arms around Rose’s back and head, pulling her close as he leaned backward onto the bed. Though the pain of withdrawal had long since passed, Rose’s weight showed no signs of recovering. He hesitated to apply too much pressure, afraid that even a slight touch might harm her.

Even just grasping her forearm made it clear. She hadn’t been this thin before, yet now, he could feel the delicate bones beneath her skin.

As he pulled her closer, Rose, who had been lying on top of him, slid up along his body. Ezekiel pressed his forehead against hers.

“You’re not going to keep getting thinner until one day you just disappear like smoke, are you?”

A sense of unease prickled at him, furrowing his brow as he spoke in mild complaint.

Rose let out a faint laugh. “That’s impossible. People don’t just vanish like smoke.”

“You’ve lost so much weight that even Serva seems to think of me as a beast.”

“…That might not be entirely wrong.”

Rose carefully agreed. There were times when she questioned whether her efforts at contraception were futile, but in the end, they had always been necessary.

“A beast, huh.”

Ezekiel repeated the word.

For a brief moment, Rose flinched internally, recalling a certain nickname that had once swept through the area. After disgruntled former servants spread rumors upon their dismissal, Ezekiel had been labeled a beast, and his estate became known as the beast’s mansion.

Had she said something offensive?

Her fleeting concern was soon put to rest when he instead broke into an amused grin.

“Well then, eat well so I can act like a beast in peace. Serva told me you barely eat. If you can’t manage a full meal, at least eat plenty of the fruit you like.”

Honestly, the issue was more psychological. Compared to her time at Milena Girls’ School, the quality and taste of the food here were incomparably better, yet she still found it hard to swallow. There were even moments when she felt an inexplicable nausea.

Rather than respond, Rose simply buried her face against his neck—until she suddenly lifted her head.

…Fruit?

She glanced at the lemon slice floating alone in her teacup.

***

“Aren’t you being too cryptic? Leaving just a note with ‘eight o’clock, masterpiece’ under a Merlot wine bottle with a single rose—are you mocking me?”

Her suspicions had proven correct.

Rose silently studied the man who had been using fruit deliveries as an excuse to frequently visit the estate. The merchant, whose name was pronounced like the Merlot grape used in winemaking, had understood the meaning of her note immediately and arrived at the designated time and place.

“Why test people like this?”

Though he grumbled in a sullen tone, his expression was far from displeased. If anything, he seemed entertained.

Rose replied calmly, “To confirm who’s been sneaking into the major’s bedroom, among other things.”

There was no need to look for another suspect.

Ezekiel had only started noticing something off in the bedroom after Merlot began frequenting the estate. Moreover, Rose had personally witnessed him sneaking into the drawing room. The culprit was so obvious that she hadn’t even considered anyone else.

In fact, she had deliberately left the wine bottle and note in Ezekiel’s bedroom. Most of the staff who cleaned there were illiterate, so the message was safe. Even if Madam Serva happened to see it, it would appear as nothing more than a romantic gesture.

Thus, Rose had intentionally directed the message at the merchant, and he had come as expected.

Merlot smirked playfully. “You’re sharp, miss. I was careful, you know.”

“I didn’t notice. Major Ezekiel did.”

“Ah, as expected. ‘Major Valdemaira of the 37th Battalion’ isn’t just a title.”

Even after hearing that Ezekiel had detected him, the merchant remained completely unfazed.

“But what if I couldn’t read? What if I hadn’t understood your message?”

“Why bother asking? You understood, didn’t you?”

“What if I had pretended not to?”

“It wouldn’t have mattered. I already figured out who sent you.”

And she had called him out with the certainty that he wouldn’t dare harm her.

“Who do you think that is?”

Rose took two steps back, putting some distance between herself and Merlot.

“Akenaus Valdemaira.”

At last, she spoke the name of the sin she could never escape.

“The one who sent you—was him, wasn’t it?”