Chapter 140
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 140
The Duke had expected the damage to be minimal, as the hosts showed no outward signs of abnormality. Nigella was a prime example. If she hadn't been caught eating a rat, no one would have ever suspected she was a host.
"They hid themselves well, just like rats. Without holy water, we would have never been able to tell them apart."
Those who became hosts went about their daily lives, completely unaware they had even consumed a rat. They lived normally, only to suddenly obey the rats' commands as if possessed.
Until that moment, even the hosts themselves had no idea they were infected. Since it was impossible to tell with the naked eye, the number of hosts could have multiplied rapidly without anyone noticing. It was a relief they had managed to suppress the threat before the situation spiraled out of control.
The Duke read down the list of names with a grim expression.
"You administered the holy water to everyone in the estate, I assume?"
"Yes, Your Grace."
Rico nodded. Every servant working in the Duke's mansion had been given holy water.
"And the bodies of the deceased?"
"For now, we have moved them to the basement and have knights guarding them."
Once night fell, they would go down to the basement to dispose of the bodies. They would likely have to burn them, just as they had done with the rats. Burning at the stake was a punishment associated with the Sun Goddess, making it one of the most wretched ends. But dealing with human remains felt entirely different from dealing with rats.
Rico was not as steadfast as Evangeline's maid. No matter if they were hosts, watching people vomit blood and die tore at her heart.
The Duke, too, though cold to anyone who wasn't Agera and clear about his priorities, cared for his people. He closed his eyes for a long moment as if in prayer, lost in thought, before finally speaking.
"...Once this is settled, see to it that the bereaved families are properly compensated."
"But we have no official pretext to compensate them, Your Grace. To the outside world, these people were either dismissed or ran away."
Rico pointed out the flaw. The Duke knew this as well. Nowhere in the world did an employer pay severance to a servant who had run away. Unearned money always invited suspicion; the families would surely realize something was amiss.
"Even the guise of severance pay will do. Or we can deliver it to the families under the pretense of a reward, asking them to report it if the runaways ever return home."
Since they could not reveal that the victims had been possessed by a demon, they couldn't even tell the families the true cause of death. With heretic hunts sweeping the land, announcing that their loved ones had been possessed by a demon would only invite disaster upon them.
Because the truth had to remain hidden, the surviving families would never know their loved ones were dead. They would believe the cover story and assume their relatives had run away, blinded by greed. It was tragic, but there was no other way.
"...Understood. I will see to it."
Rico reluctantly acquiesced to the Duke's wishes.
The Duke's gesture was not truly for the families' sake. It was merely a way to ease his own guilt—a deceptive, hypocritical act. Yet, if they didn't do at least this much, Rico felt she, too, would be crushed under the weight of her own conscience.
The Duke and Rico decided on a rough amount for the compensation. It was called a payout, but in truth, it was blood money.
Though it was an unspoken truth that a price could be put on human life, Rico was now the one directly calculating it. Her stomach churned with nausea as she wrote numbers next to names that no longer held any warmth.
What was their crime? Simply working at this estate? For Rico to cover up their deaths now felt no different from the corruption of the Temple, where priests used their silver tongues to brand innocent people as heretics and burn down entire estates. She could not hide her anguish as she recorded the sums to be sent to each household.
"Then I will carry out your orders, Your Grace."
Once Rico finished speaking, the Duke flipped the list face down. They were mere words on paper, yet the long column of names sent a sudden chill down his spine. The ink on the page felt like a brand, marking the sins he had committed.
As Rico turned to leave the office, the Duke called out to her.
"Ricoradca."
"Yes, Your Grace. Is there anything else you require?"
"I would like to dine with Agera tonight. It has been a while."
"A meal...? I will inform the chef immediately. Lady Agera will be delighted."
Rico's eyes widened in surprise. It was a natural reaction, given that the Duke had avoided dining with his wife ever since a major incident had thrown the dining room into chaos.
"Then I shall go and deliver the news to Lady Agera."
With a bright, flushed face, Rico bowed deeply and left the office to attend to her mistress. She was happier than anyone to see the Duke showing such care for Agera. This was likely because of the immense debt of gratitude she owed the Duchess.
About five years ago, Agera had gone out and brought back a mother and daughter, claiming they reminded her of her own child. Those two were Rico and Mavka.
The sight of Rico holding her newborn baby must have evoked memories of Amaranth. Agera had fed them, clothed them, and given them a place to sleep. Having lost Amaranth and with it her sense of purpose, Agera had redirected her maternal affection toward Rico.
Fearing that Rico might harbor foolish dreams of becoming an adopted daughter, the Duke had intentionally burdened her with chores and hard labor. Fortunately, Rico knew her place.
Instead of feeling resentful, Rico was simply grateful for the work that allowed her to feed Mavka. Her competence caught the eye of the old butler, who took her under his wing. When he retired, she eventually succeeded him.
To Rico, Agera was her savior. Yet, once the madness took hold of her mind, Agera could no longer even remember Rico. The only people left in her fractured memory were the Duke and her deceased daughter. Even so, Rico never forgot the kindness she had received, remaining fiercely loyal despite her mistress's inability to recall her name.
If only she had remembered Rico instead of Amaranth, the Duke thought. Then there wouldn't have been so many needless casualties. Once the Duke had learned the truth about Amaranth, he had wanted nothing more than to erase his past mistakes. Yet Agera's stubborn refusal to let go of her daughter, even in her madness, was truly remarkable.
The Duke unconsciously crumpled the list of the deceased on his desk, as if crushing the paper could erase the deaths that had been brought about because of Agera.
* * *
It had been a long time since he last had dinner with Agera. But before that, the Duke had one final task to complete.
He began to write on a sheet of fine parchment, distinct from the mundane documents piled high on his desk. Writing slowly, hesitating over every single word, the sun had already dipped below the horizon by the time he finished two pages. The Duke slipped the parchment into an envelope and sealed it with the wax stamp of House Hosaquin.
"Your Grace, dinner is served."
"Very well. I am coming."
At the knock on the door announcing dinner, the Duke tucked the sealed envelope deep into his drawer and stood up.
When the Duke entered the dining room, Agera was already there. She had been laughing and chatting with Rico, but upon seeing him, she stood up and ran toward him. Fearing his frail wife might trip and fall, the Duke quickly stepped forward to catch her in his arms.
"You're here, darling?"
"It is dangerous to run like that."
"Why would I be afraid? I knew you would catch me, Julian."
Agera smiled radiantly. Seeing a bright smile on the face that had spent so long weeping warmed the Duke's heart.
"Let us sit."
At the Duke's gesture, Rico stepped forward to help Agera into her seat.
Dressed in a full outfit complete with a bonnet, Agera looked innocent and carefree, as if she were heading out for a picnic rather than a formal dinner. A sense of déjà vu washed over the Duke. As he searched his memory, he realized her attire was in a style that had been popular decades ago—a dress steeped in the nostalgia of their twenties.
"You wore a dress just like that when we went to the theater together, long ago."
"Did I?"
The Duke let his mind wander back. On that day, Agera had indeed worn something very similar. Because the Duke had been clumsy with his words, she had misunderstood their destination, believing they were going on a casual picnic, and had dressed in an incredibly bright, airy gown. She had playfully scolded him afterward for making her look like a thoughtless young girl in a venue that demanded formal, solemn attire.
The memory came back to him with vivid clarity. What was the name of the play they had watched that night?
"Do you happen to remember?"
The Duke asked, a flicker of hope in his voice, but Agera only tilted her head in confusion. The memory of that shared moment now belonged to him alone.
He felt the hollow ache of a missing companion. The past they had built together had become a solitary history, remembered only by him. Why did this moment feel so much more sorrowful than when she had screamed and wept for their dead daughter? Perhaps because it brought home the stark, cold reality that the Agera he had loved was truly gone, leaving him entirely alone in the world.
The Duke glanced at Rico, who was quietly attending to Agera. In that moment, he felt he could finally understand how she felt.
"It looks delicious!"
Oblivious to the Duke's melancholy, Agera gasped in admiration at the spread before them. Knowing that the master and mistress were finally dining together, Marlowe had poured his heart and soul into the meal. Having nearly lost his head when a rat had unexpectedly ruined their last dinner, the chef had spared no effort to redeem himself.
Fortunately, the culinary masterpiece Marlowe had practically sacrificed his soul to create was perfectly suited to the couple's tastes. But in the middle of their pleasant meal, Agera suddenly set her fork down.
"I only wish Amaranth could have joined the three of us for dinner."
"Personally, I prefer having you all to myself."
"Oh, my! Honestly, Julian!"
Agera giggled at his smooth reply. It was surprising that she didn't throw a tantrum or stubbornly insist on bringing Amaranth to the table.
How long had it been since they had shared such a peaceful conversation? It felt as though they had slipped back to the days before her mind had fractured. He knew all too well that Amaranth was dead and those days were gone forever, yet he couldn't help but indulge in the illusion. Fortunately, the mansion now housed Amaranth's double. Perhaps that was why the nostalgia felt so potent tonight.
Granted, that girl's presence had dragged his own long-ignored baseness into the light. It was akin to carving away his own flesh and leaving raw wounds, but it was a small price to pay. Agera was happy, and they had successfully purged the rats.
Furthermore, thanks to their conversation the previous day, the Duke had lowered his guard significantly around Evangeline. Strangely, whenever he tried to recall the details of that talk, his mind grew hazy, the memories fragmented like a half-forgotten dream.
Yet, the poignant moment when Evangeline—who looked so much like his daughter—had taken his hand and promised to forgive him remained crystal clear.
"How have things been with Amaranth?"
"Oh, wonderful! She listens to me so well. I can feel that she respects me and doesn't look down on me."
"And she doesn't... frighten you?"
"Frighten me? Heavens, no. Why would she? She is our child."
The Duke realized his question had been foolish. Agera had been so desperate to see Amaranth that she had dabbled in forbidden sorcery. If she could look at a rat and call it her daughter, there was no way she would ever be frightened of Evangeline.
For a fleeting second, he felt a small, resentful gaze watching him from somewhere in the room.
Throughout the rest of the meal, Agera chattered happily about Amaranth. It was proof that Evangeline was playing the role of 'Amaranth' far better than the Duke had ever anticipated.
The Duke listened quietly to his wife's cheerful chatter. Once they finished their meal, Rico personally served the tea. While pouring tea was beneath the duties of a head butler, the Duke knew how fiercely protective Rico was of Agera and chose not to comment.
"So, Amaranth and I are planning to go on a mother-daughter shopping trip soon."
"Is that so?"
Agera would never be allowed to leave the estate. However, rather than ruining her mood, the Duke simply humored her. He knew she would forget all about the shopping trip in a matter of hours anyway.
Just then, Rico, who was in the middle of pouring the tea, muttered something under her breath. Suddenly, the teacup slipped from her fingers.
The Duke bolted upright in alarm, his voice ringing out in panic.
"Agera!"