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38.
Zeppelin pressed the key into Grace's hand.
"The key is with the ‌‌‌Head Maid. She'll only unlock the shackles briefly if an unavoidable situation arises."
Zeppelin's eyes conveyed absolute trust as he looked at Grace.
Grace nodded ‌‌‌with her usual expressionless demeanor.
As she turned away, a subtle smile played at her lips—so faint that no one could have noticed it.
'Yes, I'll think of it as merely a final struggle.'
Rebecca frowned at the unpleasant weight ‌‌she felt around her wrist, but soon relaxed her expression and broke into a bright smile.
She waved her hand for a ‌‌‌‌long time until Zeppelin's carriage disappeared from view.
***
"I have returned, Miss Rebecca."
Robert, who had come to Rebecca's room, knelt at her feet.
He had clearly endured hardship—his cheeks were more hollow than the last time I had seen him.
Though his appearance was weary, Robert seemed in better spirits than ever before.
Rebecca smiled faintly and spoke. ‌‌
"It seems you've had some success?"
"Ah, no. I was unable to obtain the concrete ‌‌‌evidence you mentioned, Miss Rebecca. However...."
"However?"
"I found someone who can provide information."
"Did you ‌‌find someone who escaped from the Island?"
Robert looked newly astonished at Rebecca's question and spoke.
"How did you.... I ‌‌‌always think this, but if only I had known of your insight beforehand, I could have helped you much sooner. Perhaps then I wouldn't have suffered such humiliation as I do now."
Robert's brow furrowed as he observed the shackles dangling from Rebecca's slender wrist.
Without needing detailed explanation, he understood the situation at once.
'The Earl's obsessive illness has flared up again.'
But this had gone too far.
No one had the right to bind his wife in shackles under the guise of marriage. ‌
It was no different from the appearance of a prisoner.
Opinion among the Hounds ‌‌was no different. Everyone trembled with anxiety, saying the Earl was gradually losing his mind. ‌‌
They fretted nervously, wondering if the flames might turn toward them.
Unlike Robert, who grew increasingly restless each time the shackles around Rebecca's wrist rattled, Rebecca ‌‌appeared composed.
"Is this not lenient? Shackles, you say. I had actually imagined something far worse, and only today did I learn that this person's imagination extends only to this degree."
"Miss Rebecca!"
"I jest. Rather, I am grateful. Since he gives me no opportunity for my resolve to waver, I can punish him as I wish. By the way, how have the Hounds reacted upon seeing my shackles?"
"They are anxious."
"As expected. Without proof, Zeppelin has made things convenient for me. Have you met with the person who can provide information?"
"The matter is, their whereabouts are unclear. However, if you grant ‌me time, I shall certainly find them."
What Rebecca had tasked Robert with was finding clues to the Island where Zeppelin ‌‌‌had imprisoned those he had kidnapped.
To that end, Robert had used illness ‌‌‌‌as a pretext and investigated the Island owned by Zeppelin.
Over the long ‌‌years, there were not many places ‌‌‌that could ‌house numerous people without drawing attention.
Because of this, Robert concluded that the island where Zeppelin kept people confined was Zeppelin's private property.
However, there was nothing unusual in the documents, and most of the islands Zeppelin owned had been developed into resorts and were thriving. ‌‌‌
Supplies had to be smuggled ‌‌‌in discreetly, and personnel would need to be stationed there permanently to monitor the people.
It was highly likely that he had gathered everyone in one place for easier management.
So Robert excluded islands frequented by tourists from ‌‌‌his list.
When he narrowed his focus to an uninhabited island not even marked on maps, he heard news of a wanderer claiming to have escaped from some island.
But he had missed the man by a hair's breadth, and since he had to return to the Estate, Robert came back empty-handed.
"I know this was the best we could do, but I still find it a bit disappointing."
Rebecca fell into thought for a moment.
This was an opportunity Julian had created for her. During the period when Zeppelin was away from the Estate, she had to turn at least some of the Hounds to ‌‌her side.
So she ‌had ‌‌secretly hoped that Robert would bring back even the smallest clue.
But it didn't matter if he hadn't found one. It was difficult to accomplish in such a short time anyway.
After deliberating, Rebecca made her decision.
"Robert."
"Yes. What is it?"
"Are you good at lying?"
"Pardon?"
"I'm thinking of spreading a lie."
"What sort of lie...?"
"I want you to spread a rumor among the Hounds."
"What rumor would that be?"
Rebecca uncrossed her legs and leaned forward toward Robert, who still knelt before her.
"Rebecca is a saint."
Unlike the word "saint" that left her lips, Rebecca's expression was somewhat apprehensive.
Watching Robert's dumbfounded face, Rebecca ‌‌‌continued in a whisper.
"She has received God's grace and can see into the future. She sees the past ‌‌‌clearly too. Her marriage to Zeppelin ‌‌is the saint's suffering."
"A saint? You could be dragged away ‌‌‌for blasphemy!"
"Don't worry about that—I'll handle it somehow. And haven't they already been calling me a saint? The angelic Countess, the beautiful and kind Rebecca of Devonshire, worthy of being called a saint. What's the problem with becoming the ‍‌real saint they desire?"
"That may be true, but they don't literally mean you're a saint."
"Robert, you're more rigid than I thought. A lie becomes truth the moment the other person believes it's real. Even if the person involved later comes forward to deny it, no one will believe them."
This was something Rebecca had experienced countless times in her previous life.
Depending on public opinion, perpetrators became victims, and people were buried by society on baseless rumors.
Even when the truth was revealed later, people rarely believed it. Once a stigma was branded, it followed you like a label for the rest of your life.
'I nearly got driven out of the village because of ‌‌that.'
In her previous life, a married man had made advances toward Rebecca.
Rebecca refused him outright, but somehow the rumor spread that she ‌‌had seduced him.
The salon staff, who were members of Liberta, worked hard to clarify the misunderstanding, and it was resolved.
But even afterward, the way the villagers looked at her never returned to normal.
Before long, Rebecca had become a seductive woman who bewitched men.
It was then that she felt the power of rumors cut deep into her bones.
"They say I possess divine power. That I know where your families are being ‌‌‌held. Tell them that if they side with Rebecca, I can rescue them. Coming from Robert, it will carry weight."
"These are suspicious people. They won't believe my words immediately."
"Of course not. Robert, just plant the seed of hope for them. ‌‌I'll handle the rest myself. After all, the ability to see the future can be fabricated as easily as needed."
Rebecca proceeded to explain her plan in detail.
Robert's eyes wavered visibly, while Kanna, listening silently from the corner, wore her usual serene smile.
***
"Rodrigo, you seem to be in quite a good mood today."
"M-Madam!"
Rodrigo straightened his posture with a start at Rebecca's unexpected greeting.
Ever since Robert had let slip those hints last night, he found himself paying closer attention to Rebecca than usual. ‌‌
'From my surveillance, I've come to think that Rebecca might be a saint. She prays ‌‌‌‌every day, asking for strength to overcome her trials.'
'I pray every day too. What's the problem with that?'
'She can see the future. Remember when Madam warned me ‌‌‌to be careful around water? Don't you recall getting drenched during the mansion repairs? It happened just minutes after she spoke those words.'
'That's just coincidence...'
'It's more than that. Think about it carefully. Rebecca fits all the criteria of a saint—golden hair and blue eyes like ‌the goddess Defria, skin as white as jade, a virtuous nature, and the trials of being the Countess of Devonshire.'
'Now that you mention it...'
'Isn't it strange? Why did the ‌‌‌Countess insist on establishing an orphanage the moment she became the Earl's wife? And ‌‌she's never once reported the Earl's bizarre behavior.'
'Isn't that because Rebecca has leverage against her?'
'Only we Hounds know about the leverage. How would an innocent soul like her know such things? The way she remained ‌‌calm ‌‌‌‌when we put the shackles on her—there's something about her. Something...' ‌‌‌‌
'You're just talking nonsense...'
But because those words came from Robert's mouth, Rodrigo found himself wavering. ‌‌‌
The Robert he knew was not a man to speak carelessly, even by accident.
'Now that I think about it, she really does seem like a saint.'
Rebecca, dressed in a pristine white gown and ‌‌smiling with serene grace, appeared almost otherworldly.
The sunlight streaming behind her was so brilliant that Rodrigo could not gaze directly at her.
"Ah, that's right. Rodrigo. Be careful of the sky."
"I beg your pardon?"
Rebecca tilted her head upward and spoke in a sorrowful tone.
"Why does the Lord bestow trials upon the virtuous? I can only offer you a small clue to help you avoid terrible suffering."
"...?"
Rebecca left ‌‌‌behind her cryptic words and departed with unhurried grace.
Rodrigo mulled over her words as he moved to change ‌‌places ‌‌‌‌with another of the Hounds.
And ‌‌‌in that very moment.
"Watch out!"
A shout rang out as a large flowerpot crashed down directly in front of him.
Rodrigo stumbled backward, clutching his heaving chest.
The flowerpot lay in complete ‍‌‌‌ruins.
Had he not been watching the sky carefully, heeding Rebecca's words, a catastrophe would have befallen him.
As he imagined his head shattered like that flowerpot, goosebumps erupted across Rodrigo's arms.
He swallowed ‌‌‌hard and hurriedly made the sign of the cross.
'A saint!'
***
"F... Finally!"
Eustaf laughed like a madman, his long silver hair streaming wildly in the air.
The leaves that had glowed with a blood-red hue until yesterday had now transformed into a complete, deep black.
The tips of the leaves had curved into sharp, hook-like shapes, befitting ‌‌their name—Demon's Claw.
Eustaf carefully repotted the ‌Demon's Claw while wearing thick gloves.
The fully matured Demon's Claw settled comfortably into a ‌‌‌portable planter ‌‌‌‌‌equipped with temperature control.
"Perhaps the Duke will ease up on his demands now?"
A month had already passed since I arrived at this research facility in Montfort.
At first, everything seemed nothing but sweet.
"You're providing such excellent facilities for free?"
"Of course. You are ‌‌‌someone indispensable to me—to Rebecca... no, to me. ‌Don't concern yourself with anything else; focus solely on your research. Ah, and these are the employees who will assist you."
The Runaway Countess Returns
E-book Publication

January 12, 2022
Author

Long Night Sky
Publisher

Desert Fox
Published by

Woongjin ThinkBig ‌‌‌‌Co., Ltd.
Submission Reception

naver.me/54VzzLSn
Blog

blog.naver.com/wj_fennecfox
Twitter

@wjt_fennecfox

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