Time of the Blind Beast - Chapter 99

“When we heard the description we trusted had been wrong, and you suddenly left us behind, we had our suspicions. Forgive me, sir, but I agree with Feder. If that young lady is truly the same person we were searching for, then you’ve been deceived multiple times.”

Even Montcalm, who usually remained neutral, sided with Feder.

Ezekiel leaned deep into the back of his chair.

If asked whether he had never once resented her, he couldn’t say no.

Of course there had been moments of resentment.

Looking back, yes—he had loved a woman whose face and name were both lies. And that woman, under Akenaus’s threats, had destroyed his eyes.

And yet…

She was the one who, watching him drown in drink and laudanum, had first pointed out the danger. The one who stopped him with her whole body when he became violent from the aftereffects. The one who stayed up through countless nights with him, sharing warmth and support. The one who, holding his hand, led him out of the house into unfamiliar places. The one who walked long nights with him time and again—was all Lisanne.

She was also the one who held her tongue through pressures from his family to keep his mind from wavering, the one who assured him a cure existed and asked for his trust, the one who helped him endure surgery despite her own wounds—ultimately, it was all her.

The scars she had left on him were gone now. He had overcome the past. But the wounds he had inflicted on her remained as scars that would never fade.

All his life, he had believed fear was a foreign emotion to him. Even on battlefields where thousands died daily, he was always unshaken.

But when he saw Lisanne dying on the gallows—

That time—

It felt like his throat was being crushed.

If his first emotion upon seeing Madam Serva’s death was rage, then the first thing he felt upon seeing Lisanne’s was terror.

So if asked whether he resented her or was angry about her deception, the answer was simple.

“It doesn’t matter.”

Because he had faced the worst possible outcome first, there was no room left for inner conflict. His feelings clarified instantly. In the face of her death, nothing else mattered. Resentment and anger lost their meaning.

The only thing that mattered was that she had lived. Once he resolved to pardon her, he would not dig up the painful past. Especially not to unload his unresolved emotions onto a woman who had narrowly escaped death—that would be the behavior of a wretched, petty man.

“But that young lady… is she all right?”

Montcalm cautiously asked. Thinking on it now, it was remarkable how she had survived the detention center after attempting suicide without any treatment.

“By the way, sir. What about that woman? I heard you’ve seen her a few times since.”

“She’s been lying down sick every time I visit.”

“She kept coughing up blood the day we captured her, too. Something must be seriously wrong with her.”

“Wasn’t it the same poison you suffered from for so long, sir? She just gulped it down—of course her throat wouldn’t be fine. Then, how about bringing a doctor over?”

“Montcalm. That woman is a prisoner. And you want to bring a doctor for her treatment?”

Even Feder flinched a bit at that.

“What did that wench do right to be lying around in front of the major all this time?”

“I heard she had a miscarriage there.”

“She didn’t look pregnant to me. Not that I know anything about pregnancy.”

“It is a bit strange. Her belly didn’t show at all, and if she were pregnant, she would’ve hesitated before drinking poison. It’s not just her life on the line. That would mean she got pregnant so recently she didn’t even know it herself… Can it really be Akenaus’s child? He mostly stayed in Claris, and the woman probably wandered the provinces not long after.”

Looking back, their superior hadn’t even known a child had been conceived. He had been convinced it was Akenaus’s child, but within a few days, he had come to understand the whole truth—no wonder his expression had turned so haggard.

His face was already so cold and stern that it didn’t show much, but he was undoubtedly shaken inside. It was obvious without asking. Montcalm and Feder, sensing this, fell into a subdued silence and awkwardly changed the subject.

“…As you instructed, the head maid’s coffin has been placed in the underground crypt.”

“I heard you were very particular about the burial site. I also heard you’re planning a large gravestone. At least her sacrifice wasn’t in vain. It’s rare for a servant to receive such honorable treatment from House Valdemaira.”

Ezekiel had not sent Madam Serva to a public cemetery or handed her off to distant relatives. Instead, he had prepared the funeral himself. He ordered a grave to be built on the hill where he used to go on picnics as a child, holding her hand. Until the funeral was complete, he opened the crypt—usually reserved for the direct line of Valdemaira—to temporarily house her coffin. It was the final honor for Madam Serva, who had faithfully served the Valdemaira family her entire life and had once filled the role of his mother.

Bitter as it was, this was all he could do for the dead. At least Madam Serva had the chance to receive a proper funeral. Lisanne didn’t even have that.

He had believed he would someday find her, bring her back, live out their days together in happiness, and finally rest side by side with her in the crypt—but Lisanne had nearly been buried without a grave, dumped into a pit alongside other executed prisoners.

He had nearly lost her forever.

He didn’t want to imagine it any further. Ezekiel forcibly erased the lingering vision of the execution ground from his mind.

By the time the meeting ended, two hours had passed. Ezekiel strode quickly toward the bedroom where Lisanne was. Though short for a meeting, two hours still felt too long, and he was anxious.

Ever since rescuing Lisanne, Ezekiel had been plagued by constant, habitual anxiety. Whether when she was missing or now after he had her back, peace never came. It had become chronic. When her eyes were closed, he couldn’t tell whether she was sleeping or had fainted from illness, and when her eyes were open, her calm face made him worry what dangerous thoughts might be tormenting her.

His pace quickened. The Valdemaira estate was needlessly enormous. If it had been the size of the Derosa mansion, he would have arrived much sooner, but the main estate, focused on grandeur and splendor, had an inefficient layout.

He crossed the corridors in long strides and ran up the stairs. Servants he passed along the way jumped in surprise and stepped aside.

Only when he reached the bedroom door did Ezekiel pause to collect himself. A loud entrance might startle Lisanne. Hoping that leaving Anna and Paulina with her had been effective, he knocked twice.

There was no response.

Without hesitation, Ezekiel opened the door.

The bedroom was empty. Anna and Paulina were nowhere to be seen either. Judging by the disheveled bed, it didn’t seem like she had called a servant and informed them before leaving. If a servant had known, the bed would have been tidied, and someone would be waiting to inform Ezekiel of her outing as soon as he returned. No—more likely, the servant would have prevented her from leaving at all. Lisanne didn’t yet have the strength to leave the bed.

He turned around immediately. Asking a servant who might not have seen anything would only waste time. Rather than circling around making inquiries, it was faster to search the house himself.

“Lisanne!”

Where could she have gone?

He checked the bathroom first, then the toilet. Since she showed little appetite, it was unlikely she had gone to the dining room. Thinking she might be taking a walk in the garden with help, he scanned the grounds through the windows as he passed. But he saw no trace of the three women.

Lisanne. Was there a place you would go of your own will, or someone you’d want to see in this house?

Just as the entire layout of the Valdemaira estate flashed rapidly through his mind—

“As you instructed, the head maid’s coffin has been placed in the underground crypt.”

Montcalm’s report came back to him.

There was someone here—someone Lisanne might have wished to see.