Time of the Blind Beast - Chapter 41

The outside was a complete mess, leaving nothing much to see. Perhaps he should have instructed Madam Serva to resume tending to the garden beforehand.

If neither his eyes nor feet could reach it, his thoughts wouldn’t either. Ezekiel found that somewhat regrettable.

“Just a moment. I’ll get things ready.”

Rose’s voice brightened slightly.

“I’ll be right back. Please wait here.”

He had expected her to take his hand and lead him outside, but instead, Rose left him standing at the doorway and disappeared somewhere.

She must have left the entrance slightly ajar. The flow of air felt noticeably different from the stillness of the bedroom.

Chirp, chirp. Chirp, chirp.

The insects and night birds that had remained silent during the intermittent spring rains now filled the air with their cries. The silence was pushed away, sharpening his hearing.

It was both unfamiliar and welcome.

Ah, the world had always been so vividly noisy.

He had forgotten. He had lived so detached from the outside world.

Listening to the melodic sounds of nature, he raised his hand to cover his eyes.

Then, taking a step, he boldly crossed the threshold.

Pausing for a moment to assess his surroundings, he slowly removed his hand from his eyes. Then, he blinked. Just as Rose had mentioned, the darkness was deep enough that there was no particular pain.

It was a night without the moon or stars.

Yet, just a single step past the door, the scent of damp grass became overwhelming. He took a deep breath of the fresh, crisp air. Unlike the stale, stuffy atmosphere inside the mansion, the outside air was invigorating. He had no idea how long it had been since he last felt the wind on his face.

Back in the trenches, when he had spent nights hidden beneath the morning dew, he had longed for a roof over his head. But now, spending every night under a roof, he found himself wishing he could return to those days.

Even if it meant returning to the battlefield.

Rose busily moved about, tending to something. He leaned loosely against the doorway, listening to her quiet footsteps behind him. With her characteristically light tread, the atmosphere had grown noticeably quieter since Madam Serva had been replaced by Rose as his caretaker. She was as weightless as a feather.

“Major.”

Rose called to him softly as she approached.

He turned his head in the direction where she seemed to be. Rose brushed her fingers lightly against his hand to let him know her position before placing a soft object in his grasp.

“What’s this?”

It felt like something rolled up. As he unfolded it, he realized it was a strip of fabric, about a hand’s width wide, twisted into a rope-like shape.

“I couldn’t find a proper rope, so I substituted with this. I’m going to use it to create a walking path.”

Rose explained while tying one end of the fabric rope to a post outside the mansion.

“Now, as we walk through the garden, I’ll tie this fabric to various points.”

He quickly grasped her idea. By securing the fabric to trees and garden ornaments throughout the space, she was creating a safe guiding path in place of stepping stones.

Rose continued, “That way, whether it’s a moonless night like tonight or a bright one, you can still enjoy night walks by covering your eyes with a handkerchief.”

Ezekiel tugged on the fabric. Rose had tied it at his waist level, making it taut and sturdy enough to serve as a reliable guide.

“When did you prepare all this?”

“While working in the laundry room, I came across a lot of worn-out fabric that Madam Serva told me to discard, but it seemed wasteful. I thought there might be a good use for it, so I kept it.”

Hearing her mention her time in the laundry room, he immediately recalled a particular day. He remembered encountering her in the hallway, her eyes covered with a handkerchief. He had sensed someone approaching but deliberately chose not to step aside, and as a result, Rose, unable to see him, had crashed into him with enough force to make the hallway echo.

Back then, what had he said to her?

“No one told you to do this, yet you’re mimicking me. Does that mean you intend to mock me?”

“I simply wanted to prepare in advance for any inconveniences you hadn’t mentioned…”

It seemed that one of the inconveniences she wanted to address for him was his difficulty in taking walks in the garden. Seeing how she had cut and twisted fabric into ropes as a substitute for actual ropes, it was clear she had prepared in advance.

“I thought you might feel confined just staying inside the mansion all the time. I had wanted to create a walking path earlier, but there hadn’t been an opportunity until now.”

You truly wanted to help me from the very beginning.

And yet, I was so cruel to you, so unkind.

There must have been moments when she felt wronged or hurt, but reserved as she was, Rose had never once voiced a complaint. Instead, she would apologize first and step back.

A dull ache spread through his chest. Ezekiel reached for Rose’s hand and gripped it tightly.

“I’m already satisfied just holding your hand and walking.”

“Still… there may be times when I can’t accompany you on walks, and if it gets too dark, even I might have trouble seeing. Having a walking path is safer for me too.”

Rose gently held his hand and led him forward.

“I’ll go ahead first. Major, you can follow behind while holding onto the rope.”

“No, give me the rope.”

“It’s quite large and heavy.”

That was all the more reason for him to carry it. A load that was heavy and large shouldn’t be in the arms of a fragile woman with little strength.

Ezekiel took the bundle of fabric ropes from Rose’s arms. Since it was meant to span the entire vast garden, its volume and weight were considerable. He effortlessly gathered the load in one arm and, using his free hand, intertwined his fingers with Rose’s before following her lead.

At first, all he saw was darkness. It was reminiscent of when he had first gone blind, feeling as though he were walking into a void. But soon, Ezekiel realized that darkness wasn’t all there was.

The senses he had dulled by staying indoors for so long slowly awakened. The damp earth beneath his feet was slippery and soft. Tall weeds brushed against his shins. Rainwater, pooled on tree branches, dripped down onto his head. Each sensation was sharp and vivid.

Since the night was overcast, the energy of the night felt even more alive. The chilly air, the fresh scent of the garden, the sensation of raindrops tracing across his face, the squelching sound of mud compressing under his shoes…

Everything was deeply moving.

He hoped she felt the same way, but realistically, it probably wasn’t a pleasant sight—overgrown weeds, tangled branches brushing against their heads. In fact, Rose frequently paused to clear their path, snapping away obstructing branches.

“This isn’t a garden—it’s practically a jungle. It reminds me of my days as an officer.”

Ezekiel summed up his impression in one sentence.

Though he had grown up in the well-manicured gardens of Claris, as a soldier, he was far more accustomed to untamed environments. Thick tree trunks and dense foliage had always made excellent cover for ambushes and sniping.

Unexpectedly, Rose chimed in, sharing a piece of her own past.

“It reminds me of my school days.”

“Oh?”

“My school was deep in the mountains. You wouldn’t believe how many times I wandered through a jungle-like forest in the middle of the night.”

“You? Wandering in the mountains?”

His voice carried disbelief. Rose chuckled faintly.

“You see, younger students who started school early would often read adventure novels and then sneak out of the dormitories at night, convinced they needed to go on their own adventures. At that age, it’s hard to distinguish between fiction and reality. And school was strict, like a monastery, so it wasn’t particularly fun. Then, older students like me would have to sneak out after them, find them, and bring them back before they got caught. Otherwise, we’d all be punished. That’s why a scene like this feels more familiar and welcoming to me than a well-manicured garden.”

Ezekiel was pleasantly surprised by this rare glimpse into Rose’s past. She was not one to share personal stories often.

He imagined a young Rose, primly seated and absorbed in her studies. Girls who were mature beyond their years often had that kind of image.

“I never had sisters, so I didn’t know. But little girls seem to have an adorably reckless way of playing.”

The image came vividly to him—young girls sneaking out with adventure books clutched in their hands, whispering excitedly under dim lantern light, and Rose, carefully calling out their names, searching for them in the dark to bring them back before they got into trouble.