Chapter 48
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 48
The season’s opening audience ceremony had already passed, but the timing was perfect—the Crown Prince’s thirtieth birthday was only two weeks away.
Gabriel decided to handle the invitation himself. He was also going to have my dress made and find me a chaperone. Just as expected of a romance fantasy male lead, his ability to meticulously handle everything from A to Z was truly top-notch.
Now he’ll have to teach me how to dance, too.
For a moment, I felt a twinge of guilt, wondering if I was dumping too much on him. But then I remembered this was a disaster of his own making, and I promptly shook the feeling off.
That’s right. Gabriel was the one who asked me to be his partner. That’s just how love works. The one who loves more is the one who loses.
Come to think of it, how did Doline know Gabriel was my partner? I never told her. Had news that he’d asked me to the ball already spread everywhere? Gossip in high society really does travel fast.
* * *
“Have a safe trip home, Doline.”
“Yes. Thank you.”
Finally, that hellish hour was over. Doline bid her farewell with a gentle smile and hurried out of the room. She closed the door carefully behind her and took a deep breath. Only after she was out of Evangeline’s sight did she feel like she could finally breathe again.
Damn it all to hell.
Her hands were still shaking, and it wasn’t from withdrawal. She should have refused, no matter how much the Bishop insisted.
Not long ago, news had quietly spread that Count Rohanson was looking for a tutor. Rumors claimed the sickly Young Lady, who had been expected to die any day, had made a miraculous recovery and was now preparing to enter society in earnest.
Perhaps because she had already passed the typical age for a debutante, Evangeline Rohanson had become a frequent target of the town gossips.
Some said her illness was a lie and she had been living in hiding because she was hideous. Others claimed the real Evangeline was dead and the Count had found a look-alike to replace her. There were even eyewitness accounts from the Temple claiming she possessed a magnificent aura, as if an angel had descended to earth.
Because Evangeline had used her illness as an excuse to avoid all social contact, she had no close acquaintances, and the rumors only grew wilder by the day.
Doline hadn’t cared about any of it until Bishop Zabaniya made her an offer. It happened during one of her usual secret trips to purchase holy water.
“It is a very simple task. If you succeed, I will reward you handsomely.”
The request was for her to become Evangeline’s tutor and report back on the girl’s nature and her relationship with the Knight Commander, Gabriel. In exchange, he promised to provide her with holy water once every three months.
Doline was a severe drug addict. She had even been divorced after her husband discovered her habit.
When the addiction became unbearable, she would drink holy water once every six months or so to treat it. But her drug habit was an expensive hobby that drained her funds. Facing a financial crisis, she had jumped at the tutoring job, which promised both holy water and money.
She hadn’t even asked why he wanted the information. Looking back now, she wished she had.
Thanks to a resume skillfully forged by Bishop Zabaniya, Doline was hired with ease. It seemed simple at first. How hard could it be to observe one sickly girl?
It was a grave miscalculation. The Evangeline Rohanson she met was unbelievably bizarre. An angel? Sickly? Plain-looking? Doline wondered if any of the people spreading those rumors had ever actually seen her in person.
She’s no ordinary girl.
Even Bishop Zabaniya’s assessment had been dead wrong. The old man must be going blind. She couldn’t fathom how he could have underestimated Evangeline so completely.
Her skin was so pale it was nearly translucent, yet so bloodless that not a single vein was visible beneath it. Her two red eyes looked as if the most expensive rubies had been set into empty sockets. Rather than a human, she looked like a statue of an angel decorating a temple.
Doline’s vision spun. Her mind felt as if it were being ransacked.
Even though she hadn’t taken any drugs, words were being forced into her head. It was a constant whisper in her ear, an unbearable itch, as if insects were crawling inside her ear canal.
“Prostrate yourself at her feet this instant. Kneel and worship. Exalt her. Praise her. Adore her. Revere her. Glorify her. Extol her.”
Whenever she was with Lady Evangeline, those voices circled endlessly in her mind.
The only reason Doline hadn’t succumbed was that she was already accustomed to hearing similar voices during her severe withdrawal symptoms. She was used to hearing things like ‘Jump out the window’ or ‘Throw yourself under a moving carriage.’ Adding one more harmony to that awful chorus didn’t change much. Sometimes the voices tangled into nonsensical commands like ‘Prove your devotion by slitting your wrists,’ but for now, she could ignore it.
Familiar as it was, however, it wasn’t something she could endure for long. Now she understood why all the other tutors had fled.
Unless they had a clear purpose like her, it would be impossible to hold out. She had no idea what kind of mental fortitude the servants in this mansion possessed. Were they all high on drugs just to get through the day?
The three maids who hovered around Evangeline Rohanson seemed the craziest of all. Their brains were either scrambled or their capacity for fear had been completely broken. The red-haired maid named Canna already seemed possessed by the voices, and Daisy was deeply wary of Doline. Among them, the only one who seemed remotely normal and approachable was a woman named Hena.
“Are you leaving now?”
She happened to run into Hena in the hall. The woman’s somber face was turned toward her as she asked the question softly.
No, that wasn’t right. Hena had left the room before Doline, so she should have been downstairs by now. Seeing her on the same floor meant she had been waiting.
“You need to stop by the butler’s office, don’t you? Shall we go together?”
Doline was about to shake her head, but the thought of the holy water made her reconsider. “Sure,” she replied. It was a good opportunity to dig for information.
During her time as a tutor, Doline had been recording everything she saw and experienced in the Rohanson mansion for Zabaniya—her impressions of Lady Evangeline, the inner circle of maids, the deathly quiet household. She intended to write it all down in a long letter as soon as she left.
However, the Bishop had sent no reply. Did he want her to keep watching Lady Evangeline from within the mansion? Perhaps he hadn’t replied because her information was too trivial. He likely needed something more significant. If so, she wished he would at least tell her to continue.
If she stayed here much longer, she felt like she might genuinely end up licking Evangeline Rohanson’s boots.
“Please praise her.”
“Pardon?”
“You’re the only one left, Lady Doline. The other tutors quit so quickly, and it disappointed the Young Lady.”
“Is that so? The Young Lady is very kind.”
“That’s right.”
Doline continued to praise Evangeline to get on Hena’s good side, but the maid didn’t seem particularly pleased. Praising the Young Lady worked wonders on Canna; she didn’t know why the two were so different.
When they stopped by the butler’s office, he handed her a thick bonus. This would buy her a week of happiness. Doline accepted the money with sincere gratitude.
“And Miss Doline,” the butler said, his voice low. “Are you upholding the confidentiality clause?”
“Of course. I don’t even have anyone to talk to.”
“Then I hope you continue to do so.”
At the butler’s request, Doline made a promise she had no intention of keeping. She planned to write a letter to Bishop Zabaniya the moment she left the mansion. She had learned quite a bit today.
“I’ll be going now.”
After saying goodbye to the butler, Doline turned to leave. But as she went to cross the threshold, someone grabbed her clothes from behind and yanked her back. The fabric tightened around her neck, choking her, and she tumbled to the floor, coughing violently.
“Gasp—hack!Cough! Wh-what… are you… doing!”
The person who had assaulted her was Hena. From her position on the floor, Doline could see the maid’s shoes. Why so suddenly? Had she been caught? Was the butler’s warning actually a threat?
“Let us prove our devotion through death.”
Death? I see. She’s going to kill me. She was going to be silenced. The other tutors hadn’t quit—they’d been murdered. That damned old man Zabaniya had sent her to her death!
She’s going to kill me!
Gasping for air, Doline crawled toward the door again. But no matter how desperately she scrabbled across the floor, Hena caught up to her in just two steps.
A shadow fell over her. It was over. There was no escape. As Doline fell into despair, Hena spoke, her tone laced with pity.
“Lady Doline, that’s a window.”
Doline lifted her head.
“Huh?”
There had clearly been a door there just a moment ago, but now there was only a wide-open window. This was the second floor. A fall wouldn’t kill her, but she couldn’t understand how she had mistaken a window for a door.
Her withdrawal symptoms were getting worse. Doline needed a fix. Or at least the holy water to treat the addiction. Right now. With trembling hands, she pulled out the emergency stash of drugs she always kept on her, rationing it because she had no money to buy more. She brought the powder to her nose and inhaled sharply.
Her consciousness grew distant. The world swirled like paints mixing on a palette. Hena’s face distorted, splitting into two, dissolving into shimmering heat, then merging into thirty.
Another mass appeared atop the spinning colors. A single drop of black paint fell, and the ink spread with terrifying speed.
“Oops, I made a mistake. I was told to keep her alive for two weeks,” a voice said.
Something black and distorted was speaking. Thirteen eyes stared down at Doline, and four mouths twitched.
“But in this state, I don’t think I’ll even need to touch her.”
The distorted thing left, humming a tune. The world was still warped. Someone helped Doline to her feet. When she kicked and resisted in terror, the person identified herself as ‘Hena.’ It was a name she vaguely recognized.
The Hena with three circles for a face gripped Doline’s shoulders, her fingers digging in painfully.
“Lady Doline, I’ll say it again. Keep my words in mind. If you want to live, never cross the Young Lady. Just obey her. The Young Lady is kind, so she won’t question the sins you’ve committed.”