Chapter 116
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 116
Nigella watched for the right moment before chiming in on the servants' gossip.
"Lady Rohanson must look a great deal like Lady Amaranth."
"If you'd seen Lady Amaranth, you would be shocked. It's not just the Duchess—even I thought the young lady had come back from the dead."
Because Duke Hosaquin had burned every portrait of Amaranth in the mansion after disowning her, Nigella had no idea what she looked like.
She didn't see why everyone was making such a fuss; it was hardly strange for a daughter to resemble her mother. With a half-hearted nod, she turned her gaze away.
The Duchess and Evangeline seemed lost in their own world, oblivious to the whispering servants. Lady Rohanson, her white hair hanging like an old woman's, seemed unfazed by the senile Duchess and calmly kept her company.
"Amaranth. Shall we go shopping together tomorrow, with Mom?"
"If you're feeling well enough tomorrow."
"Then I must get plenty of sleep tonight!"
Their quiet chatter and the Duchess's girlish giggles echoed through the greenhouse. It was a rare moment of peace in the Hosaquin mansion, which had been filled with nothing but screams and weeping ever since the Duchess had suffered a stroke.
Perhaps it was because she'd been running around frantically to cover the water tank just moments before. Standing still under the warm sunlight, watching the peaceful tea party, her tension melted away. A warm sense of relief washed over her, followed by a deep drowsiness that made her temporarily forget the harsh scolding she had just received from the butler.
Eventually, Nigella dozed off.
Just as her consciousness was fading, a rustling sound near her ear jolted her awake. Her heart dropped as if she were falling.
If she were caught dozing off, the butler would surely scold her again. Nigella instantly straightened her posture, pretending she had been awake the whole time. She hoped no one had noticed, but someone was watching her.
Nigella felt a gaze fixed on her. Since the Duchess and Evangeline were absorbed in their conversation, it had to be one of the servants standing beside her.
But was a coworker's gaze ever this heavy? This gloomy?
Her toes curled, and an inexplicable chill ran down her spine. A creepy, ominous feeling gnawed at her nerves. Someone was quietly staring at her from behind, their gaze raking over her from head to toe.
Unable to bear it, Nigella stole a glance sideways, but no one in the greenhouse was looking at her.
Then what on earth was that gaze? Seeing Nigella shift restlessly, the maid next to her turned and mouthed, What's wrong? Despite being right beside her, the maid didn't seem to have noticed Nigella had briefly fallen asleep.
Though she found it strange, Nigella shook her head, assuming she had just misread a passing glance.
I really shouldn't doze off anymore.
Chalking it all up to her sleepiness, Nigella made a firm resolve and looked ahead. The bizarre tea party was still in full swing. Perhaps because she was now wide awake, the scene that had felt so peaceful just moments ago suddenly looked completely different.
One was a mad old woman, stripped of her former elegance, who believed she was a young girl again. The other was a being of such idealized perfection it was hard to believe she was human at all.
The sight of nobles chatting casually next to a tank of rat carcasses filled her with disgust. They looked like monsters. Soon, a strange noise began to mix with their voices—the same rustling sound that had woken Nigella.
She looked sideways again to find the source, but everyone was standing perfectly still.
Then… where is that sound coming from?
It was coming from nearby. When she heard the rustling again, Nigella turned her head toward the source.
Her eyes fell on the cloth-covered water tank. The moment she recalled what lay beneath it, an indescribable terror gripped her.
There was no wind in the greenhouse, so the cloth couldn't be moving on its own. Something had to be moving beneath it. The sound of claws scratching against glass echoed in Nigella's ears.
Water splashed. Something tapped on the glass. The cloth rustled. Because she couldn't see it, her fear multiplied.
Could the rats in the tank still be alive? Or was it something even more horrible…?
Clang!
Just as Nigella's imagination began to run wild, a sharp noise rang out. In that instant, all other sounds vanished from her ears.
Startled, she looked over, wondering if the Duchess had thrown a plate in another fit, but the culprit was unexpectedly Lady Rohanson. The sound, though sharp and loud, was merely Lady Rohanson's teaspoon clinking against her cup as she stirred her tea.
Setting the teaspoon down, Lady Rohanson tapped the handle of her cup with the tip of her fingernail, as if bored.
So that was the sound.
Nigella let out a sigh of relief. The noise had come from Lady Rohanson. It had only seemed so loud because she was tired. Of course dead rats couldn't move. She had seen their corpses with her own eyes.
Relieved, Nigella continued to stare at Evangeline.
The other sounds must have been the same. The splashing was just tea being poured and stirred. The rustling was the movement of her dress.
She's making me anxious over nothing.
Nigella briefly grumbled to herself about Lady Rohanson, but her heart stopped when her eyes met a pair of crimson ones. A mocking smile played on Lady Rohanson's lips, as if she knew exactly what Nigella was thinking. She pointedly set her cup down.
And then, even though Lady Rohanson was no longer tapping her cup, the sound of tapping on glass started again.
Scratch, scratch. Tap, tap, tap, tap. Rustle, rustle.
Scratch, scratch, scratch. Tap, tap, tap, tap, tap. Rustle, rustle, rustle.
The sounds grew even louder than before. Confused, Nigella looked at Lady Rohanson, then scanned her surroundings. The noise was unmistakably coming from beneath the cloth.
She felt that if she pulled the cloth away, all the rats would be staring right at her. Was that the gaze she had felt earlier? The thought sent a shiver down her spine, and her breathing quickened. Her heart pounded violently. She felt short of breath, lightheaded.
Nigella covered her ears, desperate to block out the noise, but it remained just as loud. Even with her palms pressed tightly against her ears, nothing changed. It couldn't possibly be this clear unless it was ringing inside her head.
"Nigella?"
The other servants looked on in confusion as Nigella suddenly covered her ears and began to act strangely.
"Are you ill?"
"Quick, get Nigella out of here."
Just when the Duchess had finally calmed down, Nigella had to cause a problem. They were terrified the Duchess might have another fit if she saw this. Their absolute priority was the Duchess, so getting Nigella out of her sight was paramount.
As they tried to support her and lead her away, Nigella began to mutter.
"The rats… the rats… I think they've come back to life."
"Nigella, what are you talking about? Get a grip!"
The servants tried to cover Nigella's mouth, terrified the Duchess might react to the word 'rats.' Nigella dodged their hands and screamed.
"Can't you hear it? They're scratching inside!"
And then, Nigella felt a small ball of fur brush past her foot.
"Ugh…!"
Nigella gasped and thrashed about.
It's a rat! The resurrected rats have escaped the water tank!
That sharp noise earlier must have been the sound of glass shattering. The rats had broken the tank and were now running around, brushing against her feet.
"They're all dead! You saw them too!" a maid hissed, shaking Nigella.
Nigella felt deeply wronged. Why wouldn't they believe her? Could they not hear it? Fine, then she would just have to show them.
Shoving away the maids holding her, Nigella rushed toward the water tank.
"Nigella! What are you—Quick, stop her!"
"Get the Duchess out of here!"
Having assumed they only needed to calm Nigella, the servants finally realized how dire the situation was and scrambled to escort the Duchess out of the greenhouse. They knew they would face severe punishment if word of this commotion reached the butler or the Duke.
Only five servants had been assigned to the greenhouse for security. With three busy escorting the Duchess and Lady Rohanson, only two were left to stop Nigella.
"She's too strong…!"
No one knew where she found the strength, but the two maids couldn't hold her back.
Nigella grabbed the edge of the cloth. Without hesitation, she yanked it off. The fluttering cloth fell to the floor, revealing what lay beneath.
Everyone who saw the water tank gasped in unison. What lay inside was something no one could have possibly expected.
"…W-what is that?" someone stammered, covering their mouth at the bizarre sight.
Inside the water tank was an incredibly detailed stone statue of a human figure. As if to fit the tank's dimensions, the statue had been broken into several pieces, with each part placed in a separate compartment. If one were to take them out and assemble them, they would form a complete figure.
While the others saw it as a collection of art pieces, Nigella reacted differently.
To her, the contents of the tank did not look like the broken pieces of a stone statue, but a real human. Just then, long, slender fingers swam through the water and tapped against the glass. Tap, tap, tap.
"…Yes! That was the sound I heard!"
Realizing the source of the tapping, Nigella pointed at the water tank in sheer ecstasy.
"It was the sound of this person tapping on the glass!"
Her tone, filled with a bizarre certainty and joy that was entirely inappropriate for the situation, sent shivers down the spines of those listening. The maid who had been holding Nigella let go and backed away. To her, the thing in the water tank was clearly a replica, a mere sculpture that resembled a human.
"Nigella, have you lost your mind? You rip the cover off and now you're calling this a person? It's just a stone statue. Are you insane?" the maid yelled, her face contorted in disgust.
"A statue? Are you blind? Look at it! It's moving!"
Nigella shrieked at her coworker, who was treating her like a lunatic, and pointed frantically at the tank. But of course, a stone statue couldn't move.
They assumed Nigella had caught the Duchess's madness and was seeing things. Frustrated by their looks, Nigella tore at her hair in exasperation.
While the other servants stood frozen, the Duchess stumbled toward the water tank. Everyone was too paralyzed by the bizarre sight to stop her. She pressed her palms flat against the glass, as if trying to squeeze inside, and peered within.
"Ah… Ama… Amaranth…" the Duchess muttered, tears welling in her eyes. Having lost her speech, she repeated her daughter's name over and over, like someone who had only ever learned that single word.
Amaranth…?
Nigella scanned the facial features of the head, which was tangled in long skeins of thread. She finally understood why the senior maid had marveled at how much Lady Rohanson resembled Amaranth. Comparing the young lady sitting perfectly at the table to the thing inside the water tank was a chilling thought, but she couldn't help it—both their appearance and the eerie aura they exuded were identical.
"Amaranth… Please… open your eyes," the Duchess pleaded desperately.
The watching maids could not hide their disgust as she addressed the broken pieces in the tank as her daughter. They didn't even think to stop her.
The moment the Duchess cried out, Nigella snapped back to reality as if doused with cold water. The looks directed at the Duchess were the same ones they had given her just moments ago.
Was Nigella really going mad, just like the Duchess?
Was the thing inside the water tank truly not a human?
Since there was nothing connected below the neck, it shouldn't have felt human, yet to Nigella, it still seemed alive. If anything, Lady Rohanson looked more like a taxidermied doll. But logically, a person who died seven years ago couldn't be preserved so perfectly, nor could a buried corpse be inside the Hosaquin mansion.
While her rational mind argued otherwise, her five senses screamed that the thing in the water tank was a human. But wait. What was supposed to be in the tank was neither a statue nor a human.
"Where did the rats go…?"
Overwhelmed by the bizarre sight, the question that should have occurred to her immediately only came to mind now.
The servants present were the very ones who had moved the water tank and covered it. They had all seen that the tank contained rat carcasses. None of them had left the room, so no one knew how the contents had changed.
"Nigella. Did you do this?"
Her coworkers began to suspect her of stealing the rat carcasses and playing a sick joke. Since she had ripped the cover off and was the only one reacting so strangely, it was only natural. Even Nigella herself was beginning to doubt her own sanity.
She couldn't understand why she had assumed the rats had escaped in the first place. It was as if something had possessed her. This had to be a dream, but the vivid reality of it all told her it wasn't.
If this isn't a dream, have I gone mad too?