Chapter 15
Frida feared darkness more than anything in the world.
“P-please, spare me. Save me, Muriel. Muriel...!”
Suddenly trapped in the dark, Frida screamed at the top of her lungs.
“Is anyone there? Save me. Please, save me...”
The vague fear of darkness had turned into terror after Lotte unnie died. Her memories of Hestia unnie, who had passed away early, were faint and few, and even those were hazy and imprecise. But her memories of Lotte unnie, who had died the year Frida turned ten, were still vivid even now. They had become two from three, and as sisters sharing the same appearance, they had relied on each other more than anyone. Since her parents had prevented her from seeing her sister's final moments, Frida had struggled to believe in her death. She had even gone searching because she couldn't accept that Lotte unnie was gone from the world. However, the horror she encountered upon sneaking out of her bedroom in the middle of the night had been too overwhelming for young Frida. The count's estate usually kept the corridors lit as bright as day even at night for its daughters, but that day was an exception. Amid the grief-stricken parents sunk in sorrow over their daughter's death and the busy servants preparing the funeral over several days, no one paid attention to the corridor wall lamps. Heartbroken over her sister's absence and sobbing uncontrollably, Frida had left her room and gotten lost in the dim corridor. Realizing she couldn't see anything, her legs trembled. Every sound reached her ears, but pitch-black darkness lay before her eyes. Terrified and petrified, she couldn't take a single step and collapsed right there. Frida huddled in that spot, trembling until dawn. The anxiety that she too would die someday like Lotte unnie had robbed the young girl even of tears. For a while after, she seemed to have lost her speech as well. It took a long time to accept reality. Honestly, she still wasn't sure if she had fully accepted it even now. She no longer feared death as intensely as she had then after growing older, but darkness still terrified her. In this moment, the corridor from that day resurfaced in her mind—the one where she had huddled small, trembling and calling for Lotte unnie. Frida groped blindly, pounding on the firmly shut door that had dragged her here. And she kept calling the name of the one person she fully relied on.
“Muriel. Muriel. Mu...ri...”
Having unknowingly held her breath, her chest tightened. Frida clawed at her collar to breathe somehow. When that didn't work, she yanked harder at her clothes. Rip. Her mind blanked so completely she didn't register the eerie sound of fabric tearing. It was then. Clank. Light poured in, and the darkness ended all too easily.
“What in the world are you doing here?”
She didn't care who the person standing in the light was. Just one thought surfaced. I'm alive. I survived. I haven't died yet. Thank goodness. Really... thank goodness. As the terror subsided, the forgotten heat returned.
“What? What's wrong? You, why on earth are you...”
Unable to fully recognize the person taking shape before her, Frida lost consciousness completely. Freed from the darkness, now even sound faded. *** There were five rooms connected to the secret passage inside Munheim Castle. The first thing Daniel had done after regaining consciousness was confirm he remembered every path perfectly. Incidentally, he also didn't want any spies planted by the Dowager Empress to notice him moving about unscathed. He had checked all the other rooms, including the study. The only one left was this one, designed as the duchess's room but now where he stayed. Retracing his memory to reach the end of the passage, Daniel was satisfied he hadn't gotten lost and pushed the back of the bookshelf with somewhat vigorous force. He sensed something off from the slight resistance of the bookshelf and the familiar bizarre cry that shouldn't emanate from here. Was someone in the room? Daniel's sharpened senses swept the surroundings one by one. Signs of intrusion were easily found throughout the room. Several drawers weren't properly closed, some even left open. The Dowager Empress wouldn't have sent such amateurs. As he sauntered through the room, his ears caught the sound of something scraping the bookshelf. Everything became clear then. The dazed intruder must have been standing near the bookshelf and tumbled inside when he pushed from the opposite side. Drawing his sword, Daniel slowly approached the bookshelf.
“...Ri...e... Muriel...”
What? Who? Hearing the familiar voice, Daniel quickly shoved the bookshelf aside. In the spot where darkness receded sat a woman weakly clutching her chest. What is this...
“What in the world are you doing here?”
Slump. Frida's body toppled backward like a tree felled at the base. Daniel leaped into the passage and caught her shoulders just before her head hit the floor. Something... was wrong. Only after facing her deathly pale, bloodless face did Daniel realize it. ***
“No, where were you going in that condition? Don't tell me...”
Muriel stared gravely at the door leading to the duke's bedroom. That door, closed without a gap, was one she couldn't open or even touch. She knew that... but how could she stop her gaze from drifting there? Glaring resentfully at the empty bed, Muriel's eyes returned to the wall. She was coming back after seeing the duke head to the stables upon his return. The last time she had seen the young miss, she had seemed ready to storm into the duke's room at any moment, so Muriel had hurried over. She had come to inform him of the duke's return and stop her, but where had this reckless young miss vanished to? The one who feared the night so much she never left her room at dusk. Approaching the wall with a hunch, Muriel pressed her ear close to the door. Hoping it differed from Munheim Castle's unnecessarily thick, soundproof doors and walls. But as expected, no sound came through. She was fairly good at detecting presences, yet the other side was utterly silent and still. Was this land so lacking in trees that even the soil was hard and thick? Why was it so utterly soundproof? As she grumbled, a loud door opening sounded not from the wall but outside. Perhaps because she hadn't fully latched it upon entering, the duke's voice came clearly through the slightly ajar door.
“Call the physician.”
Physician? It was odd enough that the duke, who usually moved about the castle with such low presence one might not know if he was there, was raising his voice. But a physician? Why would the duke, who had walked about perfectly fine right after waking as if his three-year coma was unbelievable, suddenly need one? Unease prickling her strangely, Muriel flung open the door and stepped into the corridor. Duke Rihardt, with an ominous expression, was urging the servants.
“Hurry. Quickly!”
Footsteps of servants bustling at the base of the stairs echoed upon hearing the lord's shout. Turning back to the bedroom after speaking, the duke spotted Muriel and halted. Though they had exchanged greetings whenever passing, they had never spoken directly, so Muriel bowed her head instead of asking what was wrong.
“Come in for a moment, Lady Rosivalt.”
Her mind grew complicated as the duke spoke first. She felt extremely, very off about it. Not because she disliked the duke summoning a castle servant into his room, but because she could infer the situation that had flustered this monstrous man. Muriel's strides widened as she headed to the duke's room.
“Young miss!”
Spotting Frida lying on the duke's bed, Muriel rushed over in one bound.
“Young miss. Come to your senses, Miss Frida!”
Shaking the sweat-soaked, unconscious Frida, Muriel turned to Daniel.
“What in the world happened? Why has the young miss lost consciousness here...”
Suddenly, Frida's utterly disheveled state caught her eye. Her hair in complete disarray. Her clothes torn open at the chest by someone's hand. Sweat pouring so heavily her clothes were drenched. Her face pale as if she had faced unspeakable terror. Without needing to piece together circumstances, the fist of the famously cold-hearted lady knight flew toward the duke's face. Thwack!
“What have you done to our young miss?”
Though struck squarely without chance to defend, Daniel merely staggered greatly without falling. Lightly dodging Muriel's subsequent punches as he stepped back, he frowned.
“Lady Rosivalt, have you lost your mind?”
Of course she's lost her mind! How could any woman see this and not? Imagining the horrific ordeal Miss Frida must have endured, the cold-hearted lady knight's fists led ahead unbecoming her reputation. Duke or not, Muriel saw nothing before her eyes now.
“You're the mad one, Your Grace Duke Rihardt! If you needed a woman, why not take a mistress sooner? Use your eyes if you have them. Even if she's your wife, how could our young miss endure you doing such things...!”
“Wh-what did you say?”
What kind of imagination was this woman spinning? At a loss for words in sheer disbelief, another fist flew toward Daniel's face.
“You tried to force yourself on Miss Frida, didn't you? That's why she lost consciousness. Isn't it?”
Easily dodging that as well, Daniel drew his sword. Who would have thought Muriel Rossivalt, the famed lady knight of the empire, was a madwoman. Mad, rampaging things had to be half-killed by tradition. Daniel spun the sword hilt with a whoosh and gripped it, issuing his final warning.
“Stop now, Lady Rosivalt. I'm not a particularly merciful man.”
It meant she should halt while reason remained.
“Nor am I merciful. I cannot forgive anyone who harms the young miss.”
The moment Muriel drew her sword, Anton and Dominic burst into the room. Anton, spotting the two with blades aimed at each other, startled and hid behind Dominic. Equally stunned, Dominic froze without entering further, staring at them alternately in bewilderment.
“What are you two doing? A duel? No, why?”
Not taking her eyes off Daniel, Muriel shouted.
“Dominic. It seems your esteemed lord tried to force himself on his wife!”
Killing intent emanated from Muriel, truly believing it as she gripped her sword.
“I, Muriel Rossivalt, as the sworn guardian knight who vowed to protect Miss Frida's life, am duty-bound to safeguard her even at the cost of my own. I will never overlook any act threatening her life.”
“What? Did what? My god. Daniel, you... no, my lord! Have you gone mad? Has your head gone wrong again or something?”
As Dominic bellowed at Daniel, even Anton, clinging to his back, stepped forward.
“Your Grace! How fragile Madam is... Oh dear, what to do!”
“Ha!”
Letting out a hollow laugh, Daniel lowered his sword. Absurd misunderstanding left him speechless, but even if true, wasn't it something that could happen between husband and wife? Why should he take such abuse? Befuddled yet his anger subsided automatically upon seeing the lady knight's sincere devotion to one she served head to toe. Sheathing his sword, he pulled over a nearby chair and sat. Muriel cried out at him, her voice still seething with unresolved fury.
“What are you doing? Your Grace, draw your sword at once.”
Gazing at Muriel with eyes slowly reddening, Daniel crooked a finger at Anton.
“Physician. What are you doing? Come examine the patient.”
Snapping to attention, Anton rushed over to check Frida. As Muriel opened her mouth to speak, Daniel fixed her with a cold glare and said,
“Enough impudence, Lady Rosivalt. Even if I had tried to take my wife, what of it? What business is it of yours to interfere in matters between husband and wife? Back off while I'm being lenient.”
Blood trickled from his split lip, perhaps from the unguarded blow. Wiping it with his thumb, Daniel exuded icy chill.
“Before I truly kill you.”
