Chapter 40
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40.
Julian vividly remembered Zeppelin forcefully clasping the shackles around Rebecca's wrist at the ballroom not long ago.
'The Earl of Devonshire said things would be easier if he weren't home....'
His gaze drifted toward a wine bottle resting on a small table—a rose-scented vintage, the Empire's bestseller.
The Earl of Devonshire's seal was stamped prominently across the bottle.
Asking Eustaf to investigate the rose grapes had been merely a fleeting impulse.
Yet upon reflection, it wasn't a bad idea at all.
Julian smiled wickedly.
"Even when he returns, he'll have no reason to see her properly. Zeppelin Devonshire."
* * *
The air within the Devon Mansion had subtly transformed.
Rebecca strolled leisurely through the estate, savoring the shifted atmosphere.
She had thus far corrupted six of the Hounds. According to her intelligence, thirteen Hounds served the mansion.
Excluding the incorruptible knight Bates, Head Maid Grace, and butler Octavio, more than half had turned to her side.
The six she had bought shared a common thread—each had a beloved held hostage.
They had readily succumbed to her promise of a clue to save their dear ones.
'Sudden hope, however small, always appears grand.'
Especially when spoken by Rebecca, the rumored saint.
'The remaining four are the problem....'
Three were entangled in complex debt relationships, and the last—a newly arrived boy—even Robert admitted Zeppelin held leverage he couldn't identify.
'Well, it's not necessary to corrupt everyone anyway....'
As Rebecca pondered this, a piercing shriek echoed from the third floor—Alicia's voice.
"I told you I'm suffocating! Unlock them this instant!"
"The Earl instructed me not to remove the shackles unless an unavoidable situation arises."
"Look at this! My skin is completely raw and red. If this isn't unavoidable, what is?"
Grace glanced briefly at Alicia's wrist, then let out a soft laugh.
"These are shackles lined with the finest silk. One wouldn't develop such abrasions unless deliberately forcing them off. Surely you haven't been treating the Earl's gift so carelessly?"
"Head Maid! I'm carrying the Earl's heir, you know. Excessive stress isn't good for anyone—you'd be the one in trouble if something went wrong. Unlock them while I'm asking nicely."
"Rules are rules. Follow them if you wish to remain in this beautiful estate."
"What, what...?"
Grace lifted her chin with dignified composure.
Even Rebecca thought that was excessive.
She was well aware that the servants had been subtly disrespecting Alicia.
But she hadn't expected even Grace to openly defy her to her face.
Rebecca placed a foot on the staircase, considering whether to quell the commotion.
In that instant, Alicia raised her hand as if to strike Grace's head.
Anticipating the disaster about to unfold, Rebecca paused to observe the situation.
But contrary to expectation, what reached her ears was Alicia's sharp cry.
"Ow!"
"You struck a maid before, and now you raise your hand to me? It seems education cannot erase one's true nature."
Grace seized one of Alicia's hands, gripping it so forcefully that Alicia's face contorted in pain.
Grace spoke with a cold, severe expression.
"The Earl has entrusted me with full authority over your punishment. However, considering your circumstances, I shall refrain from disciplining you directly. Still, I believe I must report this matter to the Earl. If you wish to avoid that, I suggest you conduct yourself with restraint."
She then released Alicia's arm as though discarding it, causing Alicia to stagger backward.
Alicia fell silent, her eyes burning with resentment as she glared at Grace.
"You'll regret what you've done today."
With that, she spun around and descended the stairs rapidly.
As she disappeared into her room, I thought I glimpsed tears glistening in her eyes.
I straightened my posture.
While I felt a twinge of pity considering Alicia's current state, the heinous acts she had committed in the past held me back from offering her aid.
Unfortunately, I was not virtuous enough to overlook Alicia's transgressions.
So I chose to remain still.
I simply imagined Alicia weeping alone in her room.
I slowly lifted my head and opened my eyes wide.
Grace stood on the Third Floor, surveying the entire mansion below.
It was precisely the same posture Zeppelin always assumed.
Beneath her, the servants moved with mechanical precision and perfect synchronization.
Every single movement aligned flawlessly with her will.
Grace smiled with satisfaction, then slowly turned her head.
Her ordinarily expressionless face now radiated vitality and life.
Witnessing this unfamiliar transformation in Grace's expression, I scrutinized her as though dissecting her piece by piece.
As Grace surveyed the floor below, her gaze met mine—I stood at the foot of the stairs, looking up at her.
Unbothered by my piercing stare, Grace descended the staircase with leisurely composure.
The way her hand glided along the polished bannister was not that of a mere servant.
It was that of a master.
My keen eyes did not miss that moment.
Grace regarded me with the haughty bearing of a lady of the house.
I responded in kind, using my height to my advantage as I tilted my chin up and looked down upon her.
Apparently unprepared for my unwavering stance, Grace's lips twitched slightly with displeasure.
But she soon composed herself and addressed me casually.
"It has been twice, madam."
"Twice what?"
"The number of times I have overlooked your mistakes."
I raised one eyebrow, as if asking what she meant.
Grace continued speaking.
"First, when you attempted to deceive me by disguising yourself as a maid. Second, when you went to the Market disguised as Susan and returned."
Caught off guard by her words, I flinched momentarily.
Grace laughed softly, as though she had anticipated this, and whispered to me.
"Surely you don't believe there is anything that occurs in the Count's Mansion that escapes my notice? The affairs of the maids, in particular, fall entirely under my purview. I can discern even the slightest change in their gestures."
Yes, indeed—only someone of this caliber could truly be called Zeppelin's left hand.
Rebecca showed no sign of panic, maintaining an easy smile as she spoke.
"Must I offer you my gratitude, then?"
"Not at all. You were kind enough to ensure my daughter's funeral proceeded without incident. I have resolved to repay that kindness by assisting you three times in the future."
Rebecca paused, searching her memory.
Grace's only daughter suffered from an incurable illness.
It was a terrifying condition—one that allowed her to live ordinarily until suddenly, without warning, she would convulse and lose consciousness.
One day, her daughter collapsed and did not regain consciousness for more than two days.
An urgent telegram arrived, urging Grace to prepare herself mentally. She had tried to return home.
But as fate would have it, the very next day was when the Count's House held a grand ball.
Zeppelin naturally refused to release Grace, attempting instead to compensate her with money.
Rebecca had persistently persuaded him otherwise.
In the end, Grace was permitted to go home on the condition that she return to the Count's Mansion by morning.
Thanks to Rebecca, Grace was able to witness her daughter's final moments.
"I am someone who does not forget kindness. Therefore, I will not report this matter of the saint rumors to the Earl separately. Ah, do not worry—I will not count this as one of my three favors."
At her tone, as though she were bestowing charity, Rebecca's brow furrowed slightly.
"And if you're discovered? How will you bear the consequences?"
"It will be fine. With appropriate words, the Earl will understand."
As she spoke, Grace adjusted the pleats of Rebecca's puffed sleeves.
Once both sides were arranged neatly, she stepped back to examine Rebecca fully, drawing in a breath of admiration.
"You are absolutely perfect, madam."
A chill ran down Rebecca's spine. Now that she thought about it, today's attire had been prepared by Grace as well.
Rebecca watched as Grace observed even the individual pearls adorning the necklace at her throat with meticulous care.
Though she could have assigned a maid to the task, Grace always insisted on personally attending to Rebecca's appearance.
Moreover, she would occasionally alter Zeppelin's chosen dresses and accessories to suit her own taste, secretly refashioning Rebecca's adornments.
Observing the rapturous gleam in Grace's eyes as she examined every detail of Rebecca's appearance, I began to understand what she truly desired.
She wanted to make Rebecca—a beautiful doll—her own possession.
Now that I thought about it, I had heard that Grace's excessive control had been the cause of her daughter's illness in the first place.
Was she attempting to fulfill through me the desires she could not satisfy with her daughter?
And the reason she spoke of favors and sided with me was equally transparent.
'She believes that if she shows me kindness, I will fall completely under her spell—just as I once did with Alicia.'
Rebecca observed Grace, who was desperate to seize the strings of her puppet.
It was remarkable that she had managed to conceal such greedy eyes all this time.
The moment the throne emptied, she had begun drooling like a hyena, coveting that very seat.
It was only natural that Rebecca had been unable to perceive Grace's true nature until now.
Zeppelin had always occupied his throne, holding Rebecca's leash firmly in hand, leaving Grace no opportunity to reveal her true self.
'Perhaps this, too, is a gain of sorts.'
Rebecca let out a soft laugh as she spoke.
"You speak with a tone remarkably similar to his—as though you were the master of this place."
At her blunt words, delivered like an arrow, Grace flinched momentarily, but quickly recovered with an unruffled expression.
"How could that be? The true masters of this place are the people of the Devonshire family. However, my mother's mother, and the mothers before her, have all cared for this estate, so my attachment runs particularly deep."
"Cared for?"
"Yes, I have cherished and protected the Devonshire Family as though they were my own child."
Grace spoke with unwavering confidence.
Rebecca observed her for a moment, then smiled warmly and replied.
"Indeed, I shall always be grateful for your devoted loyalty."
"I am honored that you see it that way."
"Now then, you said you would help me—that promise still stands, does it not?"
"It does."
"Do not forget that promise."
The Countess who fled has returned.
E-book publication.
January 12, 2022
Author.
Long night sky
Publisher.
Desert fox
Published by.
Woongjin ThinkBig Co., Ltd.
Submission received.
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Blog.
blog.naver.com/wj_fennecfox
Twitter.
@wjt_fennecfox
Brought to you by Valir Scans! To support our team and enjoy the latest releases, please read directly on our official site: valirscans.org