Chapter 186
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 186
As the terror-stricken Count Rohanson gasped for breath, the maid observed him calmly.
"Count Rohanson, are you alright?"
His legs trembled so violently he could barely stand. Leaning on the maid for support, the Count sank back onto the sofa. A cold sweat drenched his spine, and the fabric clinging to his skin felt exceptionally chilly.
"Y-you saw it too, didn't you?"
"Saw what, my lord?"
"The eyes! The eyes on the wall!"
The Count shouted, but the maid only tilted her head in confusion.
"Eyes...? Perhaps you mistook the pattern on the wallpaper?"
That was impossible. Although the wallpaper in Count Rohanson's room was ornate, it was hardly a pattern that could be mistaken for eyes.
"I suppose you must be very tense at the thought of meeting Lady Rohanson soon."
The Count felt wronged, but he couldn't bring himself to argue. Insisting he had seen something she hadn't would only make him look like a madman.
Besides, this maid had been brought from the Imperial Palace by Dame Musetta herself. He couldn't risk some foolish rumor reaching Musetta or the Imperial Court because of a careless slip of the tongue.
"Y-yes. It must have been my imagination."
The Count cut his words short, pretending to agree. Seeing his blatant anxiety, the maid suddenly began rummaging through her clothes before holding something out to him.
"My lord, please take this."
She offered a small bottle. The Count instinctively thought it was a vial of holy water, but there was no way a mere maid would possess such a thing. He also noticed that the bottle was different from those typically used for holy water.
"What is this?"
"You seemed very tense, my lord," the maid replied kindly. "It is a medicine that helps soothe the nerves. It is actually meant for Dame Musetta, so I might get scolded for giving it to you without permission, but..."
The maid seemed to shrink, her fingers fidgeting as if she were already picturing Musetta's anger.
"But you are someone Bishop Marik holds in high regard, aren't you, Count Rohanson? So if I tell her I gave it to you, perhaps Dame Musetta will praise me instead."
Count Rohanson's eyes widened. A medicine used by Musetta... Indeed, looking closely, he could see the engravings on the bottle were quite ornate, making it look incredibly expensive. Since he had never seen it before, it was likely not sold on the open market, but rather something circulated secretly among high society.
He couldn't help but admire the maid's devotion. How remarkably thoughtful. After being forced to grovel before Viscount Hwikel like a parasite, this high regard was enough to wash away his recent sorrows. The Count spoke as if granting a great favor.
"If Dame Musetta tries to scold you, I shall speak on your behalf."
Just as the Count patted the maid's shoulder in approval and took the bottle, a knock came from the door.
"My lord, it is time to go!" Viscount Hwikel's servants called out, their persistent knocking urging him to hurry.
The Count scowled. Insolent wretches. Look at them, groveling before their master, Hwikel, yet acting so insolently toward a Count!
As a daughter, it was only natural for her to wait for her father. How dare they rush him just because Evangeline was waiting? Anyone watching would think Evangeline held a higher status than him. How utterly presumptuous.
In comparison, the maid before him was a different caliber entirely. Indeed, those from the Imperial Palace were superior. The maid Dame Musetta had assigned him was far better than Viscount Hwikel's crude servants.
At least she knew who she was supposed to serve. It was likely because of this intelligence that Musetta kept her close, despite the scar on her face. Furthermore, her obedient attitude proved just how highly Bishop Marik valued him.
Yes. To capture Evangeline, my testimony is more crucial than anyone else's.
The Count smiled with satisfaction.
He was about to praise the maid again when he paused. Come to think of it, it had been quite some time since Musetta had assigned her to him, yet he still didn't know her name.
The Count cleared his throat. He felt slightly awkward, but not embarrassed. After all, a ruler rarely pays attention to the individual cogs in his machine.
"Now that I think about it, I still do not know your name."
As the Count broached the subject, the maid replied politely.
"It is Saraka, my lord."
Saraka. Saraka, is it? Count Rohanson repeated the name in his mind, committing it to memory.
He downed the contents of the bottle Saraka had given him in a single gulp. Perhaps because it was fast-acting, a pleasant lethargy washed over him the moment he drank it, easing his tension.
As expected of a medicine used by a former Imperial Guard, its efficacy was outstanding. Feeling much more relaxed, the Count rose from his seat.
"Very well, let us go."
Tucked safely inside his breast pocket was the bait Musetta had provided—the invitation to the Festival of Sacrifice.
* * *
At my request to see what Count Rohanson was plotting, Pudding quietly closed his eyes and began to concentrate.
I didn't know what he was seeing, but his tail flicked irritably, a clear sign of his displeasure. I grew serious in turn. What is it? Is the situation bad?
While waiting for Pudding's report, I glanced at the maid. It would be best to send her out of the room while he was spying on the Count. Pudding was in his cat form, and I couldn't risk a talking cat revealing himself to a servant from the hostile House of Hwikel.
Fortunately, the only outsider in the room was the Viscount's maid. I just needed to get her out.
"He is late."
Steeling myself, I spoke up. The maid, who had been anxiously watching my expression, flinched.
"...He will be here shortly."
"Didn't you just say my father would arrive if I waited a little longer? Exactly how long do you intend to keep me waiting?" I snapped, deliberately adopting a sharp, irritable tone. "Go outside and see what's taking so long."
"M-me?"
"Yes. Or would you prefer I go myself?"
"No, of course not! I will go right away...!"
As I intended, my venomous and difficult act terrified her, and she practically fled the room. Even in her haste, she closed the door with the utmost care, as if terrified of provoking my wrath further. I felt a pang of guilt for playing the tyrant, a role I never wanted.
Once I confirmed she had left and her footsteps had faded, I turned urgently to Pudding.
"Pudding, what is it?"
As if he too had been waiting for the maid to leave, Pudding opened his eyes.
"Count Rohanson is on his way."
It was good news that the Count was finally on his way, but the real issue was what came next. What on earth had he seen to put my dear Pudding in such a foul mood?
"Lady Evangeline. That thing is with Count Rohanson."
"What do you mean by 'that thing'?"
"Saraka. The one mentioned in Azazel's letter."
For a moment, my breath caught in my throat. My mind went blank, and it took everything I had to pull myself back together.
"...Bishop Marik."
Pudding nodded.
"Bishop Marik is right beside Count Rohanson."
The moment her name was spoken, my heart nearly stopped.
The final boss, appearing out of nowhere like this? The Festival of Sacrifice was just around the corner—wasn't that where we were supposed to settle things? Showing up unannounced while my guard was down... this villain has absolutely no professional courtesy!
Given that Pudding had specifically mentioned Saraka first, Bishop Marik must be disguised as the maid, clinging to the Count's side. Could the Count's delay have been because he was plotting with her?
My stomach churned. Bishop Marik was coming here with the Count. The realization that I would soon face her made tension coil tightly in my gut.
Pudding rubbed his face against my hand as if to tell me to relax, that he was here. But the soft sensation against my skin only deepened my anxiety.
"Pudding, could you wait outside for a moment?"
Panic began to set in. The image of Jelly—whose whereabouts were still unknown—overlapped with Pudding. The reports of Jelly's injuries, confirmed by both the estate servants and Jeremia, felt like they were choking the air from my lungs. If even Jelly had been left utterly defenseless and gravely wounded, what if Pudding was harmed too?
Even Gabriel, who wasn't a demon, had been hurt simply for being near me. How could Pudding possibly be safe?
Bishop Marik wouldn't kill me before the Festival of Sacrifice. Her ultimate goal was my death, but not yet. That meant I was the only one guaranteed to be safe until then.
If Pudding got hurt, too, I might lose my mind from self-loathing.
"Lady Evangeline."
Pudding called out to me. His soft tail flicked and then wrapped around my hand, binding us together.
"Please do not tell me to run away. I would rather be torn to pieces by Bishop Marik's hands than leave your side, Lady Evangeline."
"Pudding."
I called his name in a stern voice, warning him not to say such terrifying things, but he merely meowed, feigning the innocence of a harmless house cat. This adolescent cat was going to give me a heart attack.
"I will just pretend to be an ordinary cat."
He said it, but I couldn't put my mind at ease. Bishop Marik had undoubtedly received all the information about Pudding from Hena. Just because he was in the form of a cat didn't mean we were safe.
Ultimately, I stood up, cradling Pudding in my arms.
"Pudding, I'm not telling you to run away. You can still watch over me from outside, can't you? You can keep your eyes on me and protect me from afar."
I tried to persuade him again and again, arguing that he didn't need to be right by my side. As long as he was watching, I would be safe.
I understood why he was being so stubborn. He was anxious about leaving me alone to face Bishop Marik. After all, the whole reason I had brought him along was out of concern for potential danger. But I was just as worried about him. If I had known I would be facing Bishop Marik, I would have agonized over whether to bring him at all.
"I'm afraid Bishop Marik will hurt you."
The heavy truth slipped from my lips. At my words, Pudding stared at me in silence for a long moment before finally yielding, slipping out the open window.
"Wait for me in the carriage, Pudding."
Once I was sure he was clear of the window, I closed it with a sigh of relief and sat back down. It was time. I was ready to face Bishop Marik.