Karen Florence (2)
Once the meal was over, we ambled around the territory for a while before returning to the mansion.
Of course, Karen Florence came with us.
I had wondered, though — surely three people couldn't ride a single horse? As it turned out, she had her own mount. And she rode it well, at that.
"You mean you can't ride?"
"No, I can't."
"What a shame."
There wasn't a shred of pity on her face, though. The red-haired girl flung a smirk my way, her expression soaked through with smug superiority. Watching her, I couldn't help thinking she got worked up over the smallest things. What business does a maid have riding horses anyway?
And yet the moment she saw me riding at Rihardt's side, she shot me a look of naked envy. That expression was both gratifying to see and faintly pitiable. It's not often you meet someone who stirs two such contradictory feelings in you at once.
In any case — back at the mansion, Rihardt handed both horses over to the stable, then instructed one of the waiting maids to show Karen Florence to her room.
"Renny, this is my guest. A nun of the Lou Church. Would you show her to a good room?"
"Of course, young master. Honored guest, please follow me."
"Huh? Wha—?"
Karen Florence stood gaping blankly at Rihardt, visibly thrown by the news that they'd be parted. He answered her with a dashing smile.
"Then I'll see you at dinner, Karen."
"R-Rihardt? Do you have somewhere to be?"
"Nothing important. I just feel grimy and want to wash up."
Had the word washing set her imagining Rihardt in the nude? Karen's face flushed crimson as a boiled beet.
"O-oh! Of course!"
"Karen, if you'd like to bathe as well, just tell Renny. She'll take you to the bathhouse. I'll send someone to fetch you when dinner's ready."
"G-got it! Then — see you at dinner!"
Rihardt gave the departing Karen a casual wave, then swept his gaze across our surroundings. The instant he confirmed that no one but me was present, the smile drained slowly from his face.
"I've done my part, getting Karen into the mansion. Now it's your turn, Lucy."
I scowled.
Karen Florence was a guest Rihardt had officially invited onto the estate. If anything were to befall her under this roof, it would leave a lasting stain on his reputation — and it went without saying that he would be named the prime suspect.
"Do you intend to enjoy her today, this very moment?"
"If I didn't, I wouldn't have gone to the trouble of bringing Karen here in the first place, would I?"
"At this rate, you'll be caught by the scruff of your neck in no time—"
Mid-sentence, his hand closed over my shoulder.
It was a light touch. But knowing his grip, he could crush that shoulder to powder whenever he pleased.
I fell silent and looked up at Rihardt. His eyes were as chill as a winter's day.
"Handling those messy complications is your job, isn't it, Lucy?"
"...That may be so, but there are times I find myself questioning your attitude, young master. Do you wish for me to resolve things cleanly — or do you wish for me to fail, so that I might sink into being your toy?"
For all that the words were provocative, Rihardt's reaction was placid. If anything, he looked as though he were savoring them.
"Which do you think it is?"
"Either way, I will live up to your expectations."
"Meaning you wouldn't mind degrading into my toy?"
"If you wished to take me by force, you could do so whenever you liked, could you not?"
I knew all too well that Rihardt left me be purely on his own whim. I knew, too, just how precarious my position was. Knowing of the basement — the one thing that could be called his weakness — meant exactly that. It would surprise no one if his mind turned on a given moment and he decided to do me harm.
"Now you make me sound like a brute. What, are you secretly hoping for it yourself, Lucy?"
Is this bastard out of his mind?
The moment my face twisted, Rihardt's eyes curved with quiet amusement.
"That's a frightening expression. I can't even joke around with you, Lucy."
"I have no confidence I would retain my sanity while receiving your sadistic affections, young master."
"If that's what frightens you, then prove your worth."
"I fully intend to, without needing the reminder."
"As I'm always telling you — if it gets to be too much, you may give up. Of course, then you'd simply have to start working in a different way."
His hand, still resting on my shoulder, slid slowly downward and seized my breast.
The sensation was foreign to me. A hand — someone's hand — on my chest. I had gone my whole life believing this kind of sexual indignity had nothing to do with me. I had been a man, after all. And so I couldn't hide my bewilderment. I could only imagine what my face looked like right about now — thoroughly stunned, I'd wager.
At that reaction, Rihardt's red eyes slowly curved into crescents.
"So you do make a surprised face."
Who could've guessed you'd slap a hand on my chest out of nowhere? Even with no one else around, you're not the kind of man who pulls things like this.
"It's unpleasant, young master."
"Is it? I'm rather enjoying myself."
"..."
The wriggling of his fingers was obscene. Playful as it looked, it was the practiced motion of a hand well-versed in caressing. What shamed me was that I had no proper resistance to offer. If anything, it felt like the masculinity that had already faded since I became a woman was being trampled underfoot all over again.
"How long do you intend to keep touching me?"
"You really are slow on the uptake, Lucy."
He was deliberately ignoring my words. Seriously, use some common sense here. Where in being groped by a man is there a single thing to get excited about? It's nothing but unpleasant.
"Have you considered, young master, that your caressing might be dreadful?"
"It's only natural — once they've had their first taste, ones like you, Lucy, always turn more eager."
"Won't you fold up that impossible delusion of yours? Preferably along with that hand."
"When you act so high and mighty, it only makes me stubborn."
Which part of my demeanor, exactly, stoked your competitive streak?
But with Rihardt kneading away steadily, my body couldn't fail to respond.
"Nnh."
A treacherous, liquid warmth had begun to stir, and I curled my toes and clenched my fists. Even knowing exactly how my body was reacting, he carried on in perfect composure.
"It was time to change toys anyway. Bianca keeps giving me the same old reactions. She's gone stale."
Changing toys. Which was as good as saying the old one would be cleared away.
"Then that girl will—"
"Be disposed of, naturally."
The word dispose chilled my head to the bone.
"You mean Bianca."
"Why ask what you already know? Playing with a toy that's lost its appeal is lukewarm at best. And the one diversion I did prepare — you told me not to, didn't you? I thought it might be entertaining, seeing as she's a stablehand's daughter, to set her at a stud horse and watch."
Rihardt spewed out one blood-curdling remark after another as casually as if he were commenting on the weather. Right. The option of letting her live could never exist for this man.
"If you truly wish to, then by all means. What standing does a mere maid have to put a hand on the reins of Young Master Rihardt's conduct?"
The sneer burst out of me before I could stop it. The moment the words left my mouth, I regretted them. I stole a glance at Rihardt — and mercifully, he didn't look particularly displeased.
"How could I carelessly dismiss the words of my prospective accomplice?"
And yet it's fine to knead your prospective accomplice's chest however you please?
Rihardt went on.
"The disposing, of course, will be your work, Lucy. You said so with your own mouth, didn't you? That you'd take care of all the messy little jobs."
So I'm being entrusted with corpse disposal as well. What a weighty responsibility. Heavy indeed.
Rihardt withdrew the hand that had been toying with my chest and fixed his gaze on me.
"Lucy."
"Yes, Young Master Rihardt."
"You're not nursing some petty sympathy for Bianca or Sean, are you?"
Not a question. His tone brimmed with certainty. Filthy personality, sharp instincts — that was him all over. Had he caught on back when I riddled Bianca with that dagger? I had let flickers of hesitation show from time to time, after all.
"One mustn't harbor petty sympathy, must one."
Perhaps it pleased him that I kept nothing from him. A faint smile settled over Rihardt's face.
"If you're thinking of sparing Bianca, or smuggling her out — stop."
"I haven't the slightest intention of any such thing."
If shallow sympathy threatened my life, then I would cast that sympathy aside. I didn't have the backbone to sprint toward an appointed death. As I've said time and again — I wanted to survive as long as I could.
"I hope you mean that. I have no intention of making you my toy — not yet."
'Yet.' So the intention does exist, for someday.
Becoming Rihardt's toy sounded like a moment so dreadful my skin crawled just imagining it.
As if I'd ever be your toy. I'd sooner stop breathing first.
"Young Master Rihardt, might I offer one piece of advice?"
"Go on, then. Let's hear it."
"Inviting Karen Florence to the basement now could shake your standing, young master."
Rihardt chewed on that for a moment before replying.
"If it were discovered, you mean?"
"Yes. And the probability of discovery is considerable."
"Then you'll simply have to do your best, won't you, Lucy."
"You're not the least bit worried."
"Take it to mean that's how high my expectations for you are."
It was an expectation I wanted no part of. I couldn't even begin to imagine the fury that would come back at me if I fell short of Rihardt's standards.
I exhaled a long, deep sigh.
"...What is the deadline?"
"Have it done within the span of Karen's stay."
A day at the shortest, perhaps three at the longest. A crushingly tight window.
"Understood."
"Don't look so put-upon about it. If I hadn't summoned an outside guest like Karen in the first place, the one moaning in pain under correction tonight would have been you, Lucy."
"I never once voiced any complaint."
"Then hide that jutting lip before you speak. Anyone would take you for a duck."
My fingers drifted to my lips before I could think. They don't stick out at all, though? I looked up at Rihardt, and he flashed a grin.
"Well, I'm off to bathe. I do feel grimy."
"I shall attend you."
"No, that's quite all right. I can manage on my own."
But as Rihardt trudged toward his door, he stopped abruptly and looked back over his shoulder.
"Or — would you care to bathe together?"
"...I must decline."
The moment Rihardt was gone, I leaned my back against the wall. My legs simply gave out, and I slid down it to the floor where I stood.
"I want to escape. I really do."
The words had slipped out of my actual mouth.