Translator: Nox

Chapter 34

34

34. Count's Circumstances (4)

"How was he?"

"Excuse me?"

"James Christopher, I mean. What was his condition?"

"Well, I only caught a glimpse of him from afar. He seemed displeased that he couldn't meet you, Master. He told them to bring you to him, since he knew you were here."

Eyes like a snake seeking its prey. A chill ran down my spine as I recalled the man I had seen a little while ago.

There are many kinds of people in the world, and I, too, have experienced various people since childhood. In my eyes, that man exuded a dangerous aura. It felt like I shouldn't even brush against his clothes. If a person could devour another, that man seemed like he could do it.

"He did seem intimidating. Both his aura and everything."

"That's right. So, you shouldn't go near him either. Be careful not to run into him alone, and if you do, don't raise your head, don't make eye contact, and don't speak to him."

"Is there any chance I would?"

"There's always a 'what if' for everyone. Since you're attending to me, it's not entirely impossible."

"Why did you become involved with someone like that?"

"There's an exception to everything."

A sigh-like utterance escaped his lips. He seemed depressed, so I lowered my shoulder so he could lean on it comfortably. He shifted his body.

"He wasn't like this before."

"Ah. Christopher, you said Ethan and he were old friends, right? Then you must have seen him often."

"Not often, but occasionally. He always seemed busy. But back then, he was taciturn but responsible and had many admirable qualities. He even played with us when we were young. James changed when Count Christopher passed away."

"Count Christopher?"

"Ethan's father. It was a murder."

Oh my. I thought of the bright and cheerful Ethan. There was no sign of such sorrow anywhere in his appearance. At the same time, I thought of his brother, Lucas. He certainly had a shadow of sorrow hanging over him. He was smiling, but he seemed somehow listless.

"The culprit? Was he caught?"

"They only speculated that it was an external intruder, but they couldn't catch him. The servant who was nearby at the time was pointed to as the culprit, but there was no concrete evidence, so the case was eventually closed unsolved. And James inherited the Christopher family. He is the current Count Christopher."

Is that why he's so used to giving orders? His attitude was even overbearing. Recalling that image again made me feel a chill, and I rubbed my arm unnecessarily.

"After inheriting the family, he changed as if he were not the person I knew. He doesn't care about the means to achieve his goals. He didn't hesitate to use and kill people. He would even slaughter his own flesh and blood if necessary. Yes… it's like he became a different person."

"Surely not. No matter what, could he really change that much?"

"That might be his true self."

You never know what's inside a person. He added that and curled up. I wondered if he was cold because the wind was still chilly, so I sat closer to him. Our bodies touched, and warm body heat was transmitted. But the parts that didn't touch were still cool.

"So, if you ever meet James, run away. Run away without looking back. Even if someone grabs you, don't turn around. That's for your own good."

"What about you, Master?"

"I'm… trying to run away as much as possible right now."

Until when? When I asked that, he was silent for a moment. Was he contemplating? But his closed face didn't reveal any thoughts. Even if he looked calm on the outside, wouldn't his inside be rotten and festering?

Then, the most fundamental question arose.

"Then why did he target your eyes…?"

"……."

At that moment, Vincent opened his eyes. The weight that had been heavily pressing down on my body was lifted, and he stared into the air. I was worried that I might have made him uncomfortable.

But that wasn't it. As the wind blew his hat back, his exposed golden hair danced in the sky. He didn't move. His eyes, directed at the air, seemed to be chasing the past.

"As I said before, there are times when secrets should be kept secret. If you break that rule and steal a peek, it will eventually bring disaster. Right and wrong don't matter. It's a matter of whether you can handle it."

"……."

"James wasn't targeting me."

The wind buzzing around me contained his voice and spread it. But another wind devoured it. The secret was hidden, and silence swallowed even the surrounding air.

I couldn't breathe.

Secrets must be buried as secrets. But he revealed a fragment of that secret to me.

"I'm not the one who needs to be finished."

He pushed his hat, which had been pushed back, down again. As if hiding himself. Then he leaned back on my shoulder again and reached his hand behind his back to shake the iron gate. He closed his eyes as he listened to the creaking sound.

Now, only the sound of the wind buzzed around. I mulled over his words in my head. Then, even though I was startled and erased it, I slowly recalled the thought that came to mind again.

Then who on earth was that man targeting?

To my eyes, it was just a big and beautiful place. The surrounding forest, the garden created within it, the magnificent mansions, the interior of the mansions with their splendid patterns, and the furniture, decorations, and even the frames hanging on the walls were all so beautiful that they could blind you. I didn't come here to dream, but being here made me dream.

This place was a space of sweet dreams. But in reality, it hid darkness beneath its colorful light. A darkness that was sticky to the touch and black enough to swallow your entire body.

'Then think about it. This is not an appropriate place to have vain dreams.'

Wouldn't you be happy if you had a lot of money? Wouldn't you be happy if you had a lot of things? That might have been too light of a thought.

The sun set, and I left the forest at a time when darkness was engulfing the surroundings. Just in case, I went in through the back door, and Isabella greeted us. Judging from the fact that she didn't say anything, the man seemed to have left.

After that, there was nothing special. The usual routine of attending to him. The routine that had been shaken for a while quickly became immersed in peace, and my heart also maintained its peace.

[When I look up at the sky, I want to leave. To a faraway place where no one knows me.]

As always, I read the letter written in golden letters. But I could see sadness in the colorful light. Is something wrong? I tilted my head, and Isabella handed me the next letter. It said 'To Paula' on the outside of the envelope. The sender was Violet.

[I want to talk to Paula alone, so I'm sending you a letter.]

Below that, she added that she had ordered a new dress this time, but she was worried about what to do because the lace at the end was tacky. After that, a few more lines of complaints about the dress continued, and the letter ended by conveying her daily life.

I also picked up a pen and wrote a reply to Violet. Compared to her, it was a small and insignificant daily life, but it was enough to fill a piece of paper. I put it in an envelope and picked up the letter written in golden letters again, but Isabella, who was next to me, stopped me.

"There's no need to write a reply to that letter anymore."

"Ah."

She took the letter and threw it into the fireplace. The letter quickly burned away. At first, I wondered if it was okay to do that, but when I thought about it, the first place I found the letter written in golden letters was also inside the fireplace. Later, when I asked Isabella, she told me that she didn't keep those letters separately and burned them in the fireplace. Maybe it's because you shouldn't leave any traces.

Still, I was sad. I had exchanged letters quite a bit. At first, it was difficult to write a reply, but once I got used to it, it was kind of fun. I looked forward to the letters coming, and I was curious and excited about what would be written in them when they arrived. I even thought that if something good happened, I should write it in the reply.

It was only a few lines, but I was careful even with those few lines. Maybe that's why the short letter from the other person always contained politeness. Once, I was curious about who the letter partner was and tried to guess from Vincent's acquaintances. But there were no particular results.

I couldn't take my eyes off the letter written in golden letters that was turning into ashes for a long time. I replaced that regret by exchanging letters with a new person.

Then, one day, I was gradually getting used to that routine.

Late at night, when even the moon was hidden by the clouds, and only the sound of rain that had been falling since the afternoon lingered in the mansion, a hurried knock suddenly echoed. I rubbed my eyes in drowsiness and groped on the bedside table. I lit a candle that I had placed there as a substitute for the lamp because the oil had run out, and left the room holding the candlestick. As if he had heard the sound, Vincent was just coming out of his room.

"I'll go, so go back and get some more sleep."

"I'll go with you."

"It's okay. Go back inside."

"I'm already wide awake."

I went downstairs with him, who was unusually stubborn. When I opened the door, a man stood there, soaked in the rain. As soon as I saw his face, my drowsiness disappeared.

"Lucas?"

What's with that look in the middle of the night? As I scanned him up and down in astonishment, I heard Lucas muttering something. But it was drowned out by the sound of the rain. When I asked again, 'Excuse me?' and took a step closer, he raised his head.

At that moment, lightning flashed. Soon after, a face that looked somewhat anxious was revealed and disappeared amidst the flashes of light that exploded with a thunderous roar. After the lightning struck two or three more times and stopped, darkness fell around again, but the complexion I had seen for a moment was noticeably pale.

"Lucas?"

"Vincent… I came to see you, hyung."

I immediately turned around. Vincent was standing right below the stairs, holding onto the railing. Lucas's gaze reached Vincent.

"Hyung."

"Come in."

As Vincent turned around and went up the stairs, Lucas followed him. Water dripped from where he passed, creating a path. I also hurriedly closed the door and quickly followed them.

As soon as I entered Vincent's room, I took a towel from the bathroom and handed it to Lucas. He said thank you and wiped his face.

After that, the two of them were silent. Lucas was sparing his words, even though he had a face that seemed to have a lot to say, and Vincent was waiting for him.

In the heavy silence, Vincent took my hand.

"Go back to your room."

"But……."

"It's okay, go ahead."

I glanced at Lucas. Was it okay to leave him alone with that man? But when Vincent shook my hand again, I reluctantly returned to my room. Instead, I lay down with my ear against the wall as much as possible and closed my eyes. Vincent's bed and my bed were attached with the wall in between, so if I concentrated, I could hear faint sounds. However, it wasn't enough to understand the words.

Soon after, a faint murmur echoed. Their conversation continued for a long time until the candle had melted away.