Time of the Blind Beast - Chapter 97

He wished he could know Lisanne’s true feelings, even if it was only like this.

Wouldn’t that be natural?

Considering the pain and resentment she must have endured in the detention center. From the perspective of Ezekiel, a career soldier, it wasn’t strange at all to retaliate with greater harm against someone who had wronged you. However, Lisanne, so weakened, didn’t seem to have the strength to strike him. Frankly, even if she did hit him, it probably wouldn’t hurt—it might not even tickle.

“Have you ever handled a rifle before?”

He helped her sit up. She was so light that even a small effort made it feel like she might crumble. Her small face, devoid of color and light, showed no discernible emotion.

Ezekiel propped up a pillow high and set the rifle against it, hooking her finger over the trigger. He also padded a thick quilt between the stock and her shoulder.

“The recoil’s strong when it fires. If you don’t do this, your shoulder will be injured.”

She didn’t need to aim. If she pulled the trigger, he would place himself where the bullet would land.

Just as he stepped back three or four paces, after confirming she could sit upright on her own—

Lisanne, staring blankly at her hand on the trigger, shifted it to the barrel. The moment she changed her grip, a chill ran down his spine.

Even if she had just cause for revenge, was she really someone who would pull the trigger on him?

She might feel the impulse, but thinking about something and actually doing it were entirely different matters.

And Lisanne had already made choices that harmed herself. She also knew that with just a bit of shock, the rifle could fire even without pulling the trigger. Of course, the chances of hitting the target were extremely low due to recoil, but still, one could never be sure. She wasn’t particularly lucky.

His vision went white. Ezekiel immediately threw himself forward and shielded her with his body. Startled, Lisanne dropped the rifle. Covering her entirely with his own body in a protective hold, Ezekiel grabbed the fallen weapon. Thankfully, it had not discharged.

“Don’t tell me just now…”

You weren’t trying to harm yourself, were you?

He stopped himself from asking. She was no longer looking at him. Watching her closely to see if her breathing would become erratic again, Ezekiel bit down on the lips that had once openly mocked her.

“Did you go mute or something?”

That voice, like her personality, had always been calm, low, and comforting. With that voice, Lisanne had soothed him kindly, encouraged him, and sometimes even teased him sweetly.

But now, he couldn’t hear her voice.

Whether she’d tried to shoot him, or herself, or simply hadn’t wanted either and only meant to set the gun down—he couldn’t ask, nor could he “hear” the answer.

That wasn’t all. He didn’t know where she hurt the most, what she needed most, what she wanted, whether there was anything she wanted to eat, do, or see—there were so many things he wanted to ask, but because Lisanne couldn’t speak, there was no way to hastily demand answers.

A delayed sense of loss struck him in the chest.

What was more overwhelming was the realization that it wasn’t just her voice he had lost.

He had never felt so helpless.

***

After restoring order to the inn where the fight had broken out and arranging for Madam Serva’s remains to be transported with due respect, Ezekiel’s subordinates took four days to return to Claris. Anna and Paulina chose to join the group rather than return to their hometowns.

The day the two women arrived at the Valdemaira estate, Ezekiel felt deeply relieved. Anna had been on fairly good terms with Lisanne, and she was at least familiar with Paulina, so he hoped the presence of acquaintances would bring her some comfort in this unfamiliar place.

Until then, Lisanne had remained unresponsive even when Ezekiel brought doctors. Thinking she might not like the first doctor, he brought in others, but her attitude didn’t change.

It wasn’t as though he had brought them at random. He had kept a close watch on Lisanne and only called a doctor when she seemed relatively stable. But each time, she seemed to instinctively sense the stranger’s presence. Moreover, whenever the doctor asked to examine her throat, she would fall completely silent and still.

Watching her eat drove him even crazier. She refused to touch any food that required chewing and swallowing, eating only soft foods that went down easily. It was hard to tell whether this was because of the pain in her throat or the habits formed from near starvation in the detention center. He studied her closely, hoping to see what foods she reached for more often or seemed to enjoy, but her expression remained unreadable.

When she slept… he thought something was wrong. Lisanne clung to the wall, keeping her limbs tightly drawn in as if she were a log. Some nights, she slept crouched, knees pulled to her chest, head drooping forward. Just looking at her made him ache. One time, he couldn’t bear it and lifted her into a proper sleeping position, but she woke in fright, her face turning pale, and he ended up more startled than she was.

“Did you have a nightmare?”

“……”

“Why do you sleep like that? It looks painful.”

“……”

He tried soothing her, telling her it was okay to lie down comfortably, but it was no use. On a bed big enough for three or four grown men to roll around in, she never left a tiny sliver of space. It looked as though she were trapped in a rectangular coffin.

He was so puzzled that he sent someone to inquire. The reply was that in the overcrowded detention center, people slept that way to avoid disturbing one another, curled up as tightly as possible. And even then, limbs often tangled up due to the lack of space. In some rooms, there wasn’t even enough room to lie down, so people sat or stood to sleep.

Yet she was the same woman who once slept peacefully in his arms at the Derosa estate. She had entangled her limbs with his, shared body heat, and spent the night like one being. But now, she found his touch burdensome.

“Lisanne.”

Because she reacted negatively to the name Rose, Ezekiel no longer called her by that name. Lisanne. Her parents had supposedly called her Liz or Lissy, so it seemed likely her real name was Lisanne.

Her appearance and name had all been lies. But he had no time to be shocked. She was a woman he had barely saved from the brink of death.

Hesitate and she would die, delay and she would die—he had pushed himself forward, day and night, whipping himself on. The moment she stood at the gallows, with a noose around her neck for all to see, was burned into his eyes. Even the sight of her changing her grip on the rifle after he offered it to let her unleash her resentment remained vivid.

Only the shell remained, hollowed out within. Her life, her strength were feeble. It wouldn’t be strange if she broke at any moment.

What could he demand from someone like that?

It was all meaningless.

“Your body is too weak. You won’t survive eating like this.”

What could he bring that she might at least touch with her lips?

Despite it being the dead of winter, Ezekiel gathered all sorts of fruits and placed them within her reach.

From what he recalled, she had liked fruit quite a bit while staying at the Derosa estate. That was why he’d brought in Merlot, who had come from the main house as a spy, to supply high-quality fruits. Madam Serva had claimed she couldn’t distinguish colors due to a visual impairment, but Merlot had seen Lisanne in the detention center and still deceived him. Even when he’d asked about her features, Merlot shamelessly lied. Had Merlot told him the truth even slightly earlier, Lisanne would not have ended up on the gallows.

He had no intention of letting a servant who deceived his master go unpunished. However, at the moment, he couldn’t take his eyes off the dangerously fragile Lisanne for even a second. Summoning Merlot to the bedroom for questioning would clearly disturb her peace, so he held him under house arrest for the time being. He postponed the punishment until Lisanne’s condition improved, but once she recovered, he would hold Merlot fully accountable.

Because Lisanne kept her distance from the doctors, proper treatment hadn’t even begun. Still, he couldn’t just leave her be. Based on his own experience with poison, Ezekiel mixed painkillers into her soup for every meal and finely minced meat into it to ensure she received at least the bare minimum of treatment and nutrition.

Living each day with such tension, it was only natural that Ezekiel felt a sense of relief when Paulina and Anna arrived.

“Lisanne, Anna and Paulina have arrived. Don’t you want to see them?”

He gently asked, hoping familiar faces might lift her spirits. But Lisanne kept her gaze lowered, her face impassive. Her lifeless complexion resembled that of a broken doll.

She seemed vacant, as if in a daze—or perhaps lost in complex thought. If only she would cry or get angry or show something. But the woman, hardened from enduring everything at the Derosa estate, gave not a single piece of her heart away.

With a feeling he couldn’t begin to describe, Ezekiel gazed at her profile.