Time of the Blind Beast - Chapter 72

“Looks like you’ve come to your senses.”

It was around the time the bluish evening light seeped through the palm-sized window.

She forgot to even breathe as she blankly looked up at him. In this moment, she didn’t even realize her stomach hurt.

Amid the filthy, squalid detention center, he stood out starkly in his perfectly tailored officer’s uniform. He looked like he belonged in a different picture altogether.

“Because of your foolish stunt, now I have to waste more time on interrogation.”

The cold voice pierced her chest. She flinched.

He looked genuinely displeased.

“You know a lot about me, but I know nothing about you. So I have a few things to confirm.”

Her heart sank. Afraid he might catch a hint of suspicion in her trembling eyes, she quickly lowered her gaze.

He knew her. Knew her very well. So well, in fact, that they had once shared a bed—an intimately close relationship.

“Name.”

His tone stirred her memory, and her breath quickened.

“Name.”

“…Rose. My name is Rose.”

That stormy night, in the mansion’s bedroom when they first met, he had asked her name in almost the same tone. That night, she gave him the fake name Akenaus had assigned her.

Looking back, it was something she deeply regretted. If only she had left something real of herself with him. But back then, she had been so anxious not to have her identity discovered that she had hidden herself behind lies.

She loved him with a false name, and was loved in return.

“Why aren’t you answering?”

And only now, standing behind the bars of a detention center, did she finally show her real face and give her real name.

“……”

She opened her mouth.

As she feared, the sensation in her throat was horrific. The chill of the air scraping down her raw throat made her cough violently. A bitter, metallic scent of blood rose from deep within.

She quickly covered her mouth. After the rough coughing subsided, she glanced sideways at her palm—tiny red dots were speckled across it.

Startled, she hastily rubbed her hand on her clothes.

“Did you go mute or something?”

The lifeless mockery came right after.

Her hand, which had been wiping away the blood to avoid his notice, suddenly felt foolish.

Ah, what was I thinking…

The man who once pressed ointment into her hand and told her to treat her wounds after a withdrawal-induced struggle had long since departed from the land of winter.

A fleeting memory of better times had stirred confusion.

“Write.”

Even as she was swept up in the aftershocks of memory, Ezekiel stared down at her without blinking.

He asked again, “Can you write?”

When she nodded, Ezekiel nudged a stone with one sharply broken end toward her with his foot. The stone rolled through the narrow bars and struck her forehead.

“Name. Write it on the floor.”

With trembling hands, she barely managed to pick up the stone and slowly began to scratch on the floor of the detention center.

Screech, scratch. The grating sound annoyed the other detainees, who glared at her fiercely—but once they noticed Ezekiel’s expressionless face, they quickly backed off.

The pain in her throat and abdomen made her grip falter several times. Whenever that happened, the lines went awry. She re-scratched the floor to complete the strokes, but the result looked more drawn than written.

Her name was finally completed in a barely legible scrawl. The stone slipped from her fingers.

Unable to make out the messy writing, he narrowed his eyes and slowly traced the strokes with his gaze.

“Lisanne. Is that right?”

Lisanne.

It was the first time she had heard her real name in his voice. The man who had once called her “Rose” so softly it made her heart flutter now spat her real name out with contempt.

“A name from the former royal family.”

Commoners sometimes named their children after princes or princesses born in the same era. Royal names were beautiful to say and hear, and giving a noble name carried the hope that their child would live an elegant life like the original bearer.

Lisanne’s parents had the same idea. But since names of current royals were too common, they had purposely chosen the name of a former princess—something unique and noble.

Looking back, it was a name far too grand for her.

After all, her life had turned out neither special, nor noble, nor something to be proud of.

“I suppose I’ll have to add the crime of insulting the royal family.”

It was hard to tell if he was joking or not. But he wasn’t the kind of man to make jokes at her expense, so it was probably sincere. In any case, having harmed a member of the powerful Valdemaira family, it didn’t make much difference whether one more charge was added to her list or not—her fate as a prisoner wouldn’t change much.

“Shall I tell you some unfortunate news?”

“……”

“Akenaus will never return to the Valdemaira family. You’d best give up any hope of him rescuing you.”

Lisanne quietly lowered her gaze.

So they had expelled Akenaus from the family.

She had expected that he might return home to punish Akenaus once he regained his sight, but hearing it directly from Ezekiel made things feel clearer. For him to speak with such certainty meant he was confident there would be no further danger from his brother.

But Lisanne’s own future, tangled with Akenaus, was just as bleak.

She had long accepted that it would be hard to survive. She had mentally prepared herself before being caught by the pursuit squad. But she wasn’t a soldier who had brushed with death morning and night. There was no way she could greet death with composure.

Out of fear—more than just a little, really—she had tried to drink the poison she carried and accept the price he demanded. If the end had to come anyway, it was better to end it quickly while she still had some courage. Since Ezekiel had vowed to inflict the same pain on her, she had wondered if this might be a way to satisfy him.

But even that failed. Her fate ended up entirely in Ezekiel’s hands, and now, no matter what end came, she had no right to refuse it.

Once, she had loved him more than anyone. Now, he was a stranger more than anyone. That cold expression and merciless voice pierced her heart.

She needed to practice letting go of her feelings, but it was dizzying, disorienting. Her mind and body kept crumbling, and even staying conscious felt like a struggle.

Lisanne quietly pressed her lips together.

Back then, she had found it amazing how Ezekiel could distinguish people just by their footsteps. Depending on someone’s build, Lisanne could sometimes tell the difference too, but Ezekiel had been especially attuned to her. It wasn’t like there were no other maids with similar figures in the mansion, yet he had always sensed her precisely.

Now, it seemed Lisanne could also recognize his footsteps. As she watched Ezekiel leave the detention center with steady steps, the precise rhythm of his stride and the weight that carried a strange tension rang sharply in her ears.

He didn’t hurry, didn’t show any regret. Without once looking back, he walked away. With no strength to lift herself, Lisanne remained curled up on the floor, watching his retreating figure. Not just her—every detainee in the room followed his footsteps with their eyes.

So this is what presence feels like.

That oppressive aura left no room for doubt. Lisanne listened intently until even the faint sound of his steps disappeared. Then, the moment she turned her head, it happened.

The eyes of the other detainees had turned fierce.

Someone spat right in her face.

“I’d wondered who made a war hero go blind—turns out it was this wench.”

“Even if you lose your mind over a man, there are limits. Every citizen of Astrie owes their life to Major Valdemaira…”

“I was wondering why she got dragged in looking like that.”

“She’s crazy. Totally insane.”

Hostility flew at her from all directions. Thanks to Ezekiel’s unexpected appearance, Lisanne had become the detention center’s public enemy in an instant. Unlike others whose charges were unknown unless they confessed or lied, her crimes were publicly revealed, leaving no room for doubt.

“She deserves to die.”

“Ugh, why is she lying in the best spot? Shouldn’t she crawl into a corner?”

Because of the pain, she hadn’t been able to move from where she was first thrown. But some detainees deliberately stepped on her or kicked near her in warning.

This was a fear she hadn’t considered before entering the detention center. Aside from Akenaus, who had used her parents’ theft as leverage, she had never been bullied like this by anyone. At school, at the mansion—she’d always gotten along fine. She wasn’t exactly the outgoing type to be close with everyone, but in the dormitory, younger students had relied on her. Even at the mansion, people said that thanks to her, Ezekiel’s sharp vigilance had softened considerably.

She had once lived through such ordinary days. Now, they felt like a past life.

Still clutching her aching stomach, Lisanne crawled into a corner to hide.