Chapter 50
The Count's Secret Maid - Chapter 50
Translation: godsn
The mansion fell into chaos under the moonlight.
A scream shattered the midnight silence. The sharp, tear-stained shriek reached both the annex and the distant main mansion. Soon after, the maid who first arrived at the source of the commotion let out a cry, drawing other servants who quickly swarmed the scene.
'Good heavens!'
'Lord Ethan? Is that Lord Ethan?'
'Ahhh! Someone help over here!'
Shocked screams and frantic footsteps filled the area. It was a night when no one should have been there. The ground behind the annex was soaked with blood, tiny droplets splattered even on the walls. The gruesome trail of crimson stretched from the corner all the way to the front of the building, painting a horrifying picture. At the end of that path lay the youngest son of House Christopher, bleeding and collapsed—clearly the victim of an assault. The servants who realized this were thrown into turmoil. Who would dare do this to him?
The butler took immediate action. Isabella ordered most servants to withdraw, leaving only a few behind. The others cast furtive glances at Lucas lying motionless as they returned to their posts, too busy whispering about who could have done this to him.
Amidst this commotion, I remained locked in my room.
I hid my tear-streaked face between my knees, curling my body into a tight ball. My nerves were on edge as I stared at the firmly shut door. It felt like someone might burst in at any moment and swing a blade at me. Even though I'd locked the door, such imaginings dominated my thoughts.
I was terrified.
I spent the whole night trembling alone before finally collapsing into sleep.
My body floated through the sky. The sensation of weightlessness felt pleasant. I didn't want to come back down. If I just drifted aimlessly like this, maybe I'd reach somewhere. Or maybe not. I didn't care. I just wanted to disappear.
"You're okay, Sister. I'm okay."
A beautiful face smiled warmly at me. I wanted to imprint that image in my eyes, but my vision kept blurring, making it difficult. That was all I could do—and even that, I failed at.
"Don't do anything. That's all you need to do, Sister."
A blatant sneer pierced through me. I stayed silent because I agreed with those words.
"Then think about it. This isn't the place for futile dreams."
I know. I know that too. Stop it. Don't do this. Even without you saying it, I can't do anything. Please just leave me alone.
"You'll never forget this moment for the rest of your life."
A gentle voice reached me. I thought of Lucas. The man who looked at me in the darkness, the man who confessed he liked me. He always smiled at me warmly. He smiled at me then too. No—no, that's not right. I didn't see his face then. I was the one who turned away first, from what might have been our last moment together.
As the darkness receded, his fully revealed face was twisted in pain. His unfocused eyes struggled to hold my image. A single tear trailed from the corner of his eye. His rough, dry lips parted urgently.
"Run... away!"
My eyes flew open at that moment.
I quickly scanned my surroundings. It was quiet. Straining my ears, I listened intently but detected no signs of movement. It's safe here. I'm alone. No one else is here. Only then did I exhale and let my shoulders slump.
Knock knock.
Then, a sound came from the door.
I flinched violently. Pulling the sheets over myself, I curled into a tight ball and pressed as far into the corner as possible, watching the door warily like a cornered animal.
When I didn't answer, the doorknob rattled loudly. The sound abruptly stopped—whoever was there must have realized the door was locked.
But moments later, the door clicked open. Someone slipped through the creaking gap. I didn't dare look away, my eyes fixed unblinkingly on the intruder.
The door shut with a thud. The figure groped through the darkness, slowly advancing toward me—Vincent. His hands searched the air as if feeling for my presence.
The moment I recognized Vincent's face, I scrambled out from under the bed and lunged toward him.
I seized his flailing arm and clung to it desperately. With my other hand, I grabbed his chest and twisted him toward me. Emerald eyes, wide with shock, locked onto mine.
"L-Lucas! Lucas, is he—!"
The words tumbled out in broken fragments. His startled expression gradually settled. Frantic, I searched his lips for an answer.
"He's alive."
My legs gave out the instant I heard those words. I crumpled to the floor, and Vincent bent down with me. He asked if I was alright, but my mind was too overwhelmed with a single thought to even respond.
Alive. He's alive. Lucas is alive... The tears I'd been stifling burst forth again. I clutched fistfuls of his coat and sobbed into his chest.
Vincent's hands traced my face. Sensing the dampness on his palms, he pulled me into an embrace.
"Don't cry."
Then he patted my back gently.
"It'll be alright."
"I—I thought he was dead. I thought he was—hic—gone. His wounds, they were so deep. He—he lost so much blood. Sob."
The comforting pats on my back abruptly stopped. He pried me away urgently.
"What are you talking about? Wait—were you the one who screamed?"
"Yes."
I wiped at my streaming tears as I answered. Memories of last night resurfaced—how terrified I'd been, how afraid, how desperate for someone to save Lucas when I screamed. I'd prayed with everything in me that someone would come for him.
"What?"
His emerald eyes widened. His gaze wavered for a moment before he seized both my arms.
"Did you see who did it?"
"N-No. I ran before I could see..."
"But they saw you?"
"I—I don't know. We were under the moonlight, so... maybe?"
My hesitant reply made his expression darken further. His grip tightened painfully around my arms, making me wince. Then he bowed his head low.
Just as I strained to catch his muttered words, the door burst open. I flinched and whipped my head toward the sound.
Ethan.
His eyes swept the room before landing on us. He strode over urgently. Vincent's gaze shifted to him, and Ethan seized his collar, hauling him up roughly.
I scrambled to my feet, watching the two of them anxiously.
"Vincent. Tell me now."
"......"
"Tell me the truth."
Ethan's face was twisted—nothing like his usual playful, carefree self. His clothes were disheveled, as if he'd run here, and his breathing was ragged.
He was trembling with distress. His face was pale, his eyes rimmed red.
Yet Vincent didn't seem fazed by his sudden aggression. He just looked at Ethan calmly.
"James... Did my brother do this to you?"
Vincent hesitated before answering.
"... Yes."
"He was targeting you from the start?"
"No. His target was Lucas."
"Why?"
"Because Lucas found out James' s secret. A secret he was never supposed to know. So James threatened him. But even that wasn't enough to ease his mind. Lucas was a loose end—someone who knew too much."
"Then you're saying James is the one who did that to Lucas?"
My gaze darted to Ethan in shock before snapping back to Vincent. His expression was heavy, as if he'd long anticipated all of this. His lips parted slightly.
"Yes."
Ethan clenched his teeth. The hand gripping Vincent's collar trembled violently. Then he let go and buried his face in his hands. His expression, tangled with sorrow and confusion, was hidden behind his palms.
"...... Did he kill my father too?"
The stifled question spilled out once more. This time, the silence stretched longer. Soon, Vincent lowered his gaze and delivered a heavy answer.
"Yes. Lucas witnessed it."
"......"
"That was the secret James was trying to hide."
Ethan turned sharply to leave. Sensing this, Vincent reached out. Barely managing to stop him, Vincent spoke urgently.
"Ethan! Try to understand Lucas' s heart."
Ethan didn't turn back. He said nothing.
"Lucas couldn't tell you because he was worried about you."
"Why?"
"Because you both were precious brothers to him. You and James."
"You—"
"He didn't want you to kill your own brother."
"......"
"Lucas and I both feared that. Because you loved your father so much."
Ethan exhaled a hollow breath and shook off Vincent's hand. As he stormed out of the room, Vincent hurried after him but collided with a table and fell. I rushed to Vincent's side, asking if he was alright. His gaze was fixed helplessly on the sound of his departing friend.
His fingers traced over the back of my hand where I held him.
"Go after him. Stop him. Tell him not to do it."
"Do what?"
"Everything. All of it."
Vincent urged me. I hurried out of the room and scanned the hallway. Ethan was already walking toward the far end.
I ran and caught him. His face, clouded with turmoil, turned to me.
"Don't do it."
"......"
"Please don't."
"Do what?"
"Everything. All of it."
"That's impossible."
Ethan smiled bitterly. His brown eyes were wet with unshed tears.
"Maid. I didn't come here for permission. I just wanted certainty. But the truth is, I already knew. I just refused to face it. And this is the result."
"Still, don't do it."
"He tried to kill Lucas. My own blood."
"......"
"Next, it'll be me. Or Vincent."
At those words, my grip on him slackened. Ethan wiped away his sorrow. His expression, now devoid of hesitation, was terrifyingly calm.
"Tell Vincent I'm sorry."
"......"
Ethan turned away. This time, I couldn't stop him. There was no need to voice what he must be thinking—how he must blame himself for hesitating, how resolute his resolve must be.
I lowered my head as I watched his retreating figure.
When I returned to the room, Vincent immediately turned at the sound of my approach. His questioning gaze met my hollow smile.
"I'm sorry."
"It's fine. No need to apologize."
Vincent shook his head, but he couldn't hide his exhaustion.
I moved to support him as he groped around. He caught my hand.
"Pack your things. Now."
"What?"
"I'm sending you away."
My eyes widened.
"Why? What did I do wrong? Is it because I couldn't stop Ethan?"
"No."
"Then why—"
"Because you're in danger."
Still holding my hand, he turned to face me. Standing before me, he spoke calmly.
"He must know you were at the scene of Lucas' s accident. It might be fine for now, but eventually, James will realize you exist. He won't let you be. You're the only witness."
"......"
"There's a villa owned by my family in Nobelle. I'm sending you there. Go and rest for a while. Once things settle down and it's safe, I'll call you back."
"I don't want to."
"......"
"I refuse."
I shook my head and took a step back. When I tried to pull my hand free, he tightened his grip. Though the distance between us had grown, the hand he held remained connected.
"Don't cast me away."