Time of the Blind Beast - Chapter 94

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Rose.

I imagined meeting you again dozens, hundreds, thousands of times.

Where and how we might reunite, what I would say to you at that time, what expression you would wear when you saw me—I pictured it all, again and again, with the feeble imagination I was born with.

“I thought it was strange. Why does no one remember that night? I wasn’t the only one who saw it…”

But I never dreamed of a reunion like this.

“Later, when rumors came out that didn’t match my memory, I asked the others who were with me if Rose had red hair, and they all said she probably did. That the master and Madam Serva must remember correctly. Everyone said the same thing, so I couldn’t say otherwise. It was easier to think I saw it wrong. I’m nothing, just a mere maid…”

Anna ended up saying something that should never have been said. To be precise, it was something Ezekiel Valdemaira should never have heard.

That everything he knew about Rose’s appearance was wrong.

More frightening than the fact that all his efforts had been in vain was the new description of Rose, reconstructed from Paulina and Anna’s testimonies.

“So, is that all you can testify about Rose?”

The reason Ezekiel had described Rose as having red hair and green eyes was because both were rare colors, difficult to find. When the rumor spread that the woman he sought had those traits, women with red hair from all over the country, who had nothing to do with it, were dragged in, causing an uproar.

But now, a far rarer condition had emerged.

No—was it really far rarer?

Or was it something he had already found but failed to recognize, or perhaps had not wanted to recognize?

Ezekiel thought of Lisanne, who had red hair and green eyes and appeared in his hallucinations, disturbing him. A sharp storm slashed through his chest.

“…Major, even if the trait is hard to confirm, is that all right?”

Apparently, he looked so grim that it couldn’t be ignored. While everyone cautiously watched Ezekiel’s mood, the first to speak was Paulina.

“The harder it is to confirm, the more certain it is.”

The condition she mentioned first was actually something to welcome with open arms. If it could prove Lisanne was not Rose, any detail would be good.

The reason he hoped they weren’t the same person wasn’t just to preserve a precious memory.

“She has a scar on her thigh from being stabbed.”

It was because he would have to face the past, where he had treated Lisanne with utmost cruelty, believing they were different people.

“On the day of your eye surgery, someone bumped the operating table, causing the instruments to spill, and Miss Rose blocked them with her body. That’s how she got the wound. The blade went in deep, so the scar must be quite clear. But since it’d be difficult for you to see a woman’s bare body directly, I’m not sure how helpful this testimony will be.”

But at this moment, he could no longer deny it.

A woman with brown hair and hazel eyes, who had been intimately involved with a man until recently, and who bore a clear stab wound on her thigh.

Laudanum hadn’t brought the wrong woman to him. The effect of the laudanum had been very clear. Perhaps it had borrowed the power of intuition to leave him a quiet warning.

Because it was a truth he would never accept while sober.

Rose is Lisanne.

Lisanne was Rose.

Once he acknowledged it, the tangled threads fell into place.

Her increasingly unstable behavior leading up to the surgery, the reason she disappeared from the mansion right before he awoke, and her gaze when she faced the soldiers sent to arrest her after turning back into Lisanne instead of fleeing.

The poison Rose drank with her own hand had been her own form of judgment.

Now that he thought about it, it made sense. That act was a decision only someone who knew Ezekiel very well would make.

“I will take revenge. On Akenaus and that woman who made me like this.”

“How should I kill you? I’ve imagined every possible way in my head hundreds of times.”

“I plan to return exactly what was done to me.”

Rose, I don’t know how you could continue to give me love so unwaveringly even as you heard the curses of my grudge.

What had he done to a woman like that?

“A miscarriage? Must be Akenaus’s child, huh?”

“Your parents were sent to the north. You think I’d imprison them in the same facility as you, knowing what you might plot together?”

“The child who went first is probably waiting. You won’t be lonely. If you wait just a little longer, you’ll see him soon. I’ll do my best to send him to your side quickly.”

After stabbing her with those dagger-like words over and over, he finally sent her to the gallows. The last sight he had of Rose was her crawling, kneeling, begging in tears, then going vacant with lifeless eyes.

The gallows.

His mind snapped awake.

On the first day of the new year, at midnight, her execution was scheduled. A sentence he had personally signed. Now, there were less than twenty-four hours left.

There was no time.

“Major, where are you going!”

“Please get treatment before you leave!”

It was too late to explain everything.

Leaving the cleanup for later, Ezekiel rushed out of the inn without looking back. It would normally take two days to reach Claris. He had to cut it down to one.

Ezekiel ran straight to the inn’s stable. The horses he had ridden hadn’t rested well, but the ones the spies had ridden had been well-fed and well-rested at the inn.

He brought out several of the spies’ horses. Mounting one in haste, confused as it was by an unfamiliar man’s pull, he set off toward Claris.

Rose, because you judged yourself before I could, I stood at a crossroads where I had to make a very simple choice, skipping over all the inner turmoil you must have gone through first.

If I hesitate, you die.

If I delay, you die.

There are too many roads leading to your death for me to consider anything else.

Yes. Now is not the time for deep thoughts. Complicated thoughts only slow the pace.

In truth, I already knew.

The you I meet again will not be the Rose I once knew.

The you I meet again will not love me as you once did.

But even so, in the face of a clear conclusion, those things didn’t matter.

You must live.

“Wait, who is that! Stop right there!”

“Wasn’t that Major Valdemaira just now?”

“What’s going on again? Is there trouble at the border? Should we close the checkpoint?”

Whenever the horse showed the slightest sign of slowing down, Ezekiel jumped from its back to another horse. He didn’t stop at the checkpoints, where he would normally have to verify his identity.

He hadn’t slept while preparing the surprise attack, and had just fought the spies of Davis. But his injuries and exhaustion didn’t matter.

As dawn passed, and morning gave way to noon, Ezekiel never once dismounted. Gripping the reins with blood-soaked, slippery hands, he urged the horses forward with all his strength.

He occasionally gauged the time by the position of the sun and the shadows.

Time, cruelly, continued to pass. If only it would stop for a moment. If only the day could be just a little longer. But no such miracle occurred.

One day.

Ezekiel repeated it.

One day was enough. Rose was still alive.

Yes, Rose is alive.

Whenever he needed to catch his breath, he called out her name. Whether her real name was Rose or Lisanne, he planned to ask her directly.

Wait for me, Rose. I’m on my way.

We have so much to talk about.

He could not allow himself to tire when thinking of Rose, who must be preparing to be dragged to the gallows. With hands soaked in blood, he gripped the reins tightly.

By the time Ezekiel barely passed the checkpoint of Claris, a pale moon hung in the middle of the navy sky. He had ridden without a moment’s rest, and the night had grown terrifyingly deep.

What time was it?

Having discarded everything and carrying only a single rifle, he had no way of knowing the exact time.

It was just as he frantically searched for the clock tower.

The bell rang, marking midnight.

His heart dropped. He urgently spurred his horse toward the square where the execution was to take place.

“Kill the criminal!”

“Hang that woman now!”

The closer he got to the square, the louder the roars of the excited crowd pierced his ears. It was a massive crowd, with no space to squeeze through.

“Wretched woman, rot in hell!”

Someone hurled a loud curse at Rose.

Thanks to the high vantage point on his horse, Ezekiel spotted Rose on the gallows.

With the eyes she had returned to him, he saw her final moments. Rose’s arms and legs were bound, a cloth covered her head, and her slender neck was caught in the noose.

It felt as if his own neck was tightening.

Rose, Rose, Rose, Rose, Rose!

He wanted to scream. He wanted to shout no. He wanted to yell at her to come down. No, he just wanted to go up and pull her down with his own hands.

Had she been within reach, he would have done so at once.

“Kill her now! What are you waiting for?”

The crowd’s urging of the executioner spread like wildfire.

Ezekiel clenched his teeth. He wanted to sweep away every spectator cursing and jeering at Rose, but he had no right. He was the one who had signed the execution order and placed her on the gallows as the spectacle of the New Year’s Day.

The executioner said something to Rose—likely offering a final prayer. Rose silently bowed her head, accepting her approaching death.

No matter how loudly he shouted from the back to stop the execution, it would be drowned out by the frenzied crowd.

There was only one way.

Today, not a single mistake was allowed.

Still on horseback, Ezekiel took out powder and bullets from his pocket. His hands shook as he loaded the gun—something that had never happened before.

Rose, just hold on a little longer. …Please.

The moment the executioner kicked the chair away, her body hung in midair.

This was his only chance.

Ezekiel aimed at the woman suspended in the air and pulled the trigger.

Bang!

The sharp gunshot tore through the night.