Time of the Blind Beast - Chapter 55

“Thank you for everything up to now.”

Merlot gave a perfectly courteous bow. The refined and elegant manners that had hinted at his origins when they first met—manners rarely seen in the countryside—were once again on display.

“His Excellency is too occupied with affairs to leave Claris, but he is grateful for your devotion and effort. I extend his thanks on his behalf, though I may be lacking.”

What had she planned to do when a day like this finally came?

She had wanted to respond calmly, but her breath caught painfully, and all she could do was try to steady her breathing. Her eyes were clearly open, yet she could see nothing. The colors of the world had disappeared. Every surrounding sound was tangled and distorted. It was overwhelming, dizzying.

An early chill crept in.

A sign that winter was coming.

Winter—the season in which she had first met him, and now must part from him again.

When had so much time passed?

It felt like just yesterday she had crouched in a rattling carriage, shivering from the biting cold, but already they had passed spring, summer, and autumn together. Now, before she knew it, a second winter was approaching.

Rose cast her gaze toward the distant laundry room. The sensation of hot, damp steam moistening her face returned vividly. On the day she had knocked on the mansion’s door and was assigned to the laundry room, she had been filled with hope that she could atone for her sins to him by doing whatever chores were given. But looking back, she had simply been a naïve fool.

She kept pausing, turning to look around the familiar places.

When she first arrived at the mansion, everything about it had felt foreign. She remembered carefully passing along a dark corridor, arms full with laundry baskets, stealing a glance toward the direction of his bedroom. Back then, the tightly shut bedroom door had felt like the threshold to another world. But now, waking and sleeping in that room with him had become part of her daily life.

The man who had once pinned her down in fear and suspicion during a stormy night had become the one to gently cover her ears when it rained. Just a few nights ago, when she had stirred at the sound of raindrops tapping the window in her sleep, a warm and firm hand had crept up to cup her ear. Once the noise had been shut out, Rose drifted back into peaceful slumber.

It wasn’t until morning, when she opened her eyes, that she realized it had been Ezekiel’s hand covering the side of her face. For someone with such sensitive hearing, the rain must have sounded unbearably loud. Yet, in the midst of it all, he had tried to protect her quiet rest.

Time was powerful.

She had simply lived each day, and now there was no place left untouched by memory. She was afraid. In every place she looked, there were too many memories of the Rose and Ezekiel from days past.

But it was time to say goodbye to those versions of them.

Once Dr. Brehman arrived tomorrow morning, the two doctors would begin preparing for the surgery.

Standing at the mansion’s entrance, Rose looked out toward the walking path they had made together one night when the rain and moonlight had vanished. The tightly tied rope, though soaked by rain and battered by wind, still remained in place—but after tomorrow, it would no longer be needed.

That was right. It was the correct course of action. Her mind understood that, but the emptiness crept in as she faced the traces she had to leave behind, and the reality that she shouldn’t leave any behind at all.

“You seem deep in thought today, Rose.”

Ezekiel’s presence, suddenly near, stirred Rose from her reverie.

“You haven’t said much all day. Why is that?”

“Ah…”

Had she? She hadn’t even noticed.

Rose made an effort to raise her voice. “I was wondering what kind of thoughts you had while walking this path. Do you remember that night?”

“Of course. How could I forget?”

From behind her, Ezekiel gazed into deep darkness.

“There wasn’t a single day when being blind didn’t feel hopeless, but that day was the exception. The breeze felt refreshing for the first time in a long while. The air was clear, and you were holding my hand. I felt oddly excited and at peace.”

He smiled softly.

“That day, the vision I pictured in my head as I walked was probably more beautiful than the actual garden you saw.”

“What did you imagine?”

“You.”

It was an unexpected answer.

Rose looked up at him in quiet surprise.

“I imagined your story. It was one of the rare days you talked a lot about yourself. I pictured the prim, mischievous schoolgirl you used to be, occasionally getting into cute trouble at school…”

Rose recalled it too. That night, she had rambled on about school life to avoid being suspected, knowing it was the safest topic.

“And all the seasons we’d spend together from then on.”

“……”

“Sometimes I feel regret. If I had met you earlier, maybe I wouldn’t have fallen into alcohol and opium. Maybe I could’ve reached this day in a better state.”

“…Do you think it was a good thing that you met me, Major?”

“‘Good thing’ doesn’t even begin to cover it. Meeting you was the greatest fortune of my life.”

What do I do?

What am I supposed to do?

Her throat kept tightening. It was a day she shouldn’t cry, had no right to cry—yet she wanted to. Rose soothed her stinging eyes and burning throat with a short, dry cough.

Will I be able to endure it?

The moment this man discovers that the woman he calls ‘the greatest fortune of his life’ is in fact the very person who brought him the greatest misfortune…

Will I be able to bear it?

“And soon, I’ll become the greatest happiness of your life too,” Ezekiel whispered.

He had just received the diamond ring, now finally crafted, from Madam Serva. He had hidden it for a surprise proposal. After doing so, time felt like it was moving unbearably slowly. As soon as the surgery was complete and his sight recovered, he didn’t plan to wait even a single day longer.

“Next time, the two of us will walk this path with our eyes open.”

Next time…

Rose mouthed the words silently, her lips moving without a sound.

Would there be a next time for us?

Rather than a vague, uncertain next time, today—every moment of today—was precious. Rose tried to look at his face as much as possible. She struggled to memorize every detail. Today might be the last time she would face Ezekiel’s intact face. During recovery, his eyes would be wrapped in bandages. Those deep, dark blue eyes—she had to take in as much of them as she could now.

“Major, it’s okay to look at light now, isn’t it?”

“I’m fine. Why?”

“Then let’s sleep with the curtains open tonight.”

If the moonlight poured in through the open window… maybe she could see his face a little longer. Maybe she could look at him again and again, all through the night.

“Let’s do that.”

The man, nodding without knowing anything, only made her heart ache more. Rose widened her eyes, holding back tears.

A bluish moonlight soaked the bed.

Rose cupped Ezekiel’s face with both hands. Ezekiel’s arm was already pulling Rose’s back tightly against his chest.

The lovers hungrily sought each other’s lips. They pushed in, explored, tangled. The soft inner lips clung and parted with sticky sounds.

Rose tried to focus solely on the delicate sensations he conveyed. The looming fear that this time might never return surged within her. She wanted it all to crumble into chaos as quickly as possible.

The lips marking her collarbone were warm. Rose pressed her shoulder even closer so the bruise would form more clearly on her skin.

Marks left by lips form easily and fade just as easily. That sometimes felt sad. She wished they would last longer, but like dreams that fade soon after waking, they quickly blurred—regretfully and pitifully so.

Ezekiel’s lips, which had lingered near her collarbone for a while, slipped lower. The tightly bound front of her clothing resisted entry, so he untied the knots with ease. Efficiently, without hesitation. The result of many times spent entwined.

Having explored and studied her body countless times, the man now knew it better than she did. He knew how and where to touch without causing pain, and that she was especially ticklish where her side met her chest and near her waist.

Tonight, Rose also caressed Ezekiel’s body. Just like he did to her, she touched, inhaled his scent, pressed her lips to mark him, engraving sensory memories of him into her body and mind.

She laced her fingers between his long, firm ones and even counted the pulses at his wrist. Despite the long-awaited surgery being imminent, his steady heartbeat showed no signs of anxiety.

She had done so because her own heart was pounding wildly—so loudly she felt it in her bones. If it was audible to her, surely he could hear it too.

“I’m the one getting surgery, so why is your heart beating so hard?”

Burying his face in the rise of her chest, he gently licked her soft skin and chuckled before soothing her over her heart.

Thanks to the excuse he gave her, Rose kept her mouth shut.

…Ah, but still, there was one thing she wished he would know.

She trembled because of the result of the surgery he was to undergo,

And trembled again in fear of the fast-approaching tomorrow…

But—

“Whenever I was with you, Major… my heart always beat like this.”

She trembled helplessly, simply because this man’s very existence overwhelmed her.