Time of the Blind Beast - Chapter 8

Even in the dim light that filled the room at midday, Ezekiel’s body exuded elegance despite being shrouded in darkness. His muscular frame and the scars that covered him were immediately visible. All of them were remnants of bullets, shrapnel, and bayonet blades that had torn, pierced, and smashed his body before being sewn back together.

In a way, the history of war was forever etched into his flesh. The unscarred parts were so rare that it seemed miraculous that his face remained untouched.

On the day he returned home, clad in his splendid officer’s uniform and leading the grand victory parade, no one could have imagined the devastation hidden beneath his clothes.

Rose glanced at Madam Serva. The elderly woman shook her head slightly, a silent message.

Don’t show surprise. Don’t react.

Rose understood the meaning behind the gesture.

The medals on his uniform were the price he had paid in blood. As a member of the esteemed Valdemaira family, Ezekiel had been commissioned as an officer at a young age. It was a position that required him to stand at the front and lead his men, taking on more danger than anyone else.

Common soldiers who had been conscripted could sneak away in the dark if fear overcame them, but for men like Ezekiel, from a well-known noble family, there were only two options.

Return alive.

Or return dead.

After all the suffering, Ezekiel had returned alive, and it should have been his time to enjoy the honor he had earned. Yet, before he could savor the fruits of victory, he was blinded and forced to flee to the barren northern region, living in seclusion.

Because of his brother, Akenaus, who had resented him.

And because of me, who had carried out the deed.

How could I ever atone for this sin?

“Rose, here’s the towel.”

Rose was pulled from her thoughts as Madam Serva handed her a damp towel. She spread it out and carefully pressed it over the wine-stained scars on Ezekiel’s body. Even though the wounds had long since healed, the sight of the scars was so horrific that she couldn’t bring herself to apply much pressure.

Her fingers brushed lightly over the skin of his chest, barely grazing it.

“…Ah.”

She nearly screamed in shock when Ezekiel suddenly grabbed her hand.

Startled, Rose looked up. Ezekiel’s face was slightly furrowed as he stared down at her. No, “stared” wasn’t quite the right word. He accurately sensed her presence, but the blind, dark blue eyes that had lost their sight couldn’t focus on anything.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m sorry,” Rose apologized reflexively. Even though she didn’t know what had upset him, she had learned that it was always wise to lower her head and apologize.

Hastily, she helped him into a clean shirt and began fastening the buttons, but she quickly realized a problem. His broad shoulders and chest made it impossible for the front of the shirt to close properly.

Instinctively, Rose glanced at Ezekiel to gauge his mood. He had been in a foul mood all day, and on days like this, even the smallest mishap could escalate into a major issue.

Sure enough, Ezekiel’s face grew increasingly displeased as he sensed the ill-fitting shirt.

“Please wait a minute. I’ll get another—”

“This must be an old shirt.”

Rose was about to excuse herself to fetch another shirt, but Madam Serva stepped in and adjusted the gaping front of the shirt.

“Was it six years ago? Or maybe seven… Lord Ezekiel came to visit me, even though I was living in retirement in this remote place. Back then, he was already a head taller than most grown men, but he’s grown even more since then.”

“Is this the shirt from back then?”

“Yes, it is.”

Madam Serva’s calm response silenced Ezekiel’s complaints. He fell into a quiet reflection, his displeasure melting away as memories from the past resurfaced.

The tense atmosphere eased. Relieved, Rose carefully folded the wet clothes and towels into the basket.

Once they had closed the door behind them, Madam Serva gave Rose a knowing glance. “You noticed, didn’t you? That wasn’t the right shirt.”

Rose hesitated for a moment before nodding. “Yes.”

Six or seven years ago, Ezekiel would have been a boy of fifteen or sixteen. But the shirt he had just worn looked too plain and rough for a young nobleman of his age.

Lowering her voice, even though no one was around to overhear, Madam Serva whispered, “That night… the night Ezekiel arrived at this mansion, he came with nothing but the clothes on his back.”

Rose remembered. Madam Serva had said Ezekiel had been carried here like cargo, strapped to his soldiers’ horses, as they navigated through a blizzard.

Given that he had barely managed to escape a deadly conflict between brothers, it made sense that he hadn’t had time to pack any belongings. His empty hands were a natural consequence.

“He really had nothing. Not a single thing from head to toe. I had to quickly take his measurements and have clothes made, but as you know, making a proper suit doesn’t happen overnight. So I sent someone to find large men’s clothes from nearby, but even the biggest clothes they brought didn’t quite fit him.”

“I thought something seemed off. So those were someone else’s clothes.” Rose sighed deeply. “We’re lucky to have Madam Serva here.”

“…Maybe. But maybe not.”

There was a hint of resignation in Madam Serva’s voice.

“Lord Ezekiel has always been kind to me. After all, I was his nanny, and I practically raised him. Perhaps I’m the person in the Valdemaira family that he feels the most comfortable with… Sometimes, I even feel as if I love him like a grandson.”

Madam Serva gazed into the distance for a moment.

“But I’m not the person he truly needs. I’m old now, and how many more years do I have left to stay by his side? Once I’m gone, he’ll be even more isolated… I often wake up in the middle of the night, thinking about it.”

Rose nodded quietly, understanding Madam Serva’s concerns.

This mansion functioned smoothly, in part, thanks to Madam Serva, who played a vital role in keeping everything running like a well-oiled machine. But once she became too frail or passed away, there would be no one to keep the sometimes-cruel Ezekiel in check, or to protect the servants when needed.

A blind master had limits on his ability to maintain control over the mansion, and Akenaus, from the capital city of Claris, was not the type to show mercy to his isolated brother.

“What Lord Ezekiel needs is someone who can stay by his side for a long time, someone he can trust and who will try to understand him.”

Madam Serva glanced at Rose as she continued, “When Lord Ezekiel was still making a name for himself on the battlefield, people admired him everywhere, even in a remote place like Derosa. Girls who knew there was a Valdemaira villa nearby would often wander around, hoping he might pass through and stop by. I imagine the atmosphere in the capital was even more intense.”

“He was famous, after all. I didn’t live in a big city, but even in my area, whenever someone mentioned the Valdemaira family, they immediately thought of Major Ezekiel from the 37th Regiment.”

As she mentioned Ezekiel’s name, Rose lowered her gaze.

Madam Serva observed the young laundry maid with a calm and thoughtful expression. She remembered the first day Rose had arrived at the mansion, her face pale from the cold and nervousness as she knocked on the door.

What had caught Madam Serva’s attention was simple. While other servants tried to keep their distance from Ezekiel, doing only what was required of them, Rose had done the opposite. Even when she had been stripped of her dignity, she didn’t show it. Occasionally, when she asked about Ezekiel’s condition, her face betrayed her anxiety and concern. Rose had even been the first person to cover her eyes and try to experience Ezekiel’s world of darkness.

This led Madam Serva to a thought.

Could she be the one…?

Under normal circumstances, it would have been absurd. But the Valdemaira family’s estate had long since fallen into Akenaus’s hands, and Ezekiel, exiled to the north, blind and bitter, was no longer the knight that women once dreamed of.

Moreover, the Valdemaira name was now more of an obstacle to Ezekiel’s future than a blessing. Families of equal standing would be wary of associating with him, fearing Akenaus’s displeasure. While his men in the 37th Regiment still remained loyal out of camaraderie, even they couldn’t continue to support Ezekiel forever once a new commander took over.

The answer was clear, no matter how much she thought about it.

Ezekiel needed someone young and healthy—a new chamberlain, a new housekeeper, and a new mistress.

And that someone had to be a woman.

Madam Serva wasn’t asking for much. As long as the woman knew her place and didn’t provoke Akenaus or make too many demands, she wouldn’t have to worry about going hungry or being destitute.

Ezekiel might not be the desirable match he once was, nor the affectionate husband a woman might wish for, but his looks were still striking. Moreover, Madam Serva had saved up a decent amount of wealth over the years while managing the mansion.

If Rose had knocked on the door in the middle of the night, desperate for work, it was clear her family wasn’t well-off. So this arrangement might not be such a bad offer for her either.

“You know, Rose, I have a feeling that you…”

“Madam! Madam!”

A servant suddenly rushed in, interrupting their conversation.

“There’s a letter for the master. He’s asking for you to come immediately.”

“A letter?”

The news brought a rare look of excitement to Madam Serva’s face. Ezekiel, trapped in the mansion, eagerly awaited any news from the outside world, whether awake or asleep.

Madam Serva quickly turned and headed toward Ezekiel’s room, and Rose found herself following along without thinking.