41 - The Time of the Blind Beast (15+ Revised Edition)
Chapter 41
Winter is far off, but summer is close. There might be a chance to pick fruit and make compote. She hoped there would be. If luck favored her a little more, she could make chestnut jam in the fall, and in winter...
No, no. The moment a sliver of opportunity arose, her thoughts would inevitably drift into such selfish territory. Her staying in the mansion through summer, fall, and winter meant his treatment had shown no improvement over several seasons. Or perhaps it had failed.
Rose chastised herself.
Don't be so selfish. Don't be greedy. Haven't you atoned enough for your past sins?
"Why summer?"
"Summer, well... please don't build a swing. It's not fitting for a maid to be swinging."
It was just a small, muttered thought, but Ezekiel, with his keen ears, didn't let even her brief, stray remark pass by.
Rose hastily concocted a flimsy excuse.
"What's wrong with it?"
"Still, it doesn't look particularly good. I'm someone who came here to work."
Ezekiel tilted his head.
That couldn't be right. For one thing, Rose wasn't merely an employee who had come to work. Even among the employees who were here solely for work, he had never interfered with what they did in their free time, as long as the mansion's schedule ran smoothly according to its established order.
Moreover, the thought of a girl with long, red hair sitting on a swing adorned with flowers, feeling the gentle breeze, made his stomach tingle. It would be a very pleasant sight, and sometimes Rose's sensitivity was difficult to understand.
However, after pondering for a while longer, he accepted Rose's opinion. For one thing, a swing installed in the neglected, messy garden would only offer a desolate view.
Besides, with snow in winter and rain in spring and summer, Derosa's outdoors was hardly an attractive landscape, being damp year-round.
It would be better, then, to surprise Rose with a gift later, when they moved to a new mansion.
He would take a large spruce tree and a sturdy apricot tree, tied with ropes, and plant them in the garden. He would decorate the surroundings with fruit trees and flowers, and personally hang a swing. Considering Rose's height and build, he would trim and shape the tree just right, then tie sturdy ropes. There, Rose wouldn't be an employee, so she could swing as much as she pleased without worrying about others' gazes. Once one was made, Rose and the child would likely swing often.
"These statues are holding hands. Like us."
Rose added, having examined the statues in the meantime. Ezekiel curved his lips into a smile and tightened his grip on their clasped fingers a little more.
No one hurried their steps. The night was long, and the walk was peaceful. Whether they chatted softly or listened to the chirping of crickets and the rustling of leaves in silence, both were good in their own way. He simply liked this time. He liked this person.
The two ambled slowly through the garden, tying more knots on a few trees that served as markers.
The next statues they found depicted a man and woman embracing. A man and woman facing each other, a man and woman holding hands, a man and woman embracing. Now that he looked, all the statues displayed in the garden took the form of lovers.
"I see a couple embracing to my left."
"Ah, right. It was around here."
By now, the rope Ezekiel had been holding was starting to run out. Walking along the overgrown, unkempt path, Rose suddenly voiced a question that had occurred to her.
"Why are there so many statues of lovers? I don't see any other statues, only pairs of men and women."
"You're finally curious about that?"
"Finally...?"
"I've been waiting to see when you'd ask."
"Why?"
Ezekiel suddenly stopped walking. Rose, caught off guard, stopped too. Ezekiel turned her to face him, released his hands, cupped her small nape, and drew her closer.
His lips descended.
It was a direct, unhesitating approach, the shortest possible distance.
He had always kissed Rose frequently.
"I want to feel your breath."
He wanted to hear her fragments more concretely than before, to touch them. For instance, her calm, low voice, her steps that he described as dancing, her gentle yet careful touch.
Sometimes, he would caress her face to gauge the direction of her gaze. Once, when he inadvertently held her wrist and felt her pulse, he would press his thumb gently over it, counting its rise and fall. He said it made him feel reassured, as if her form became clearer through the dark curtain covering his eyes.
Accustomed to their frequent physical contact, Rose unconsciously adjusted her angle and responded to the kiss. She parted her lips, accepting him.
After savoring Rose's warmth and touch for a long moment, Ezekiel slightly parted his lips and whispered.
"This is why."
He had placed the statues here for them to share such a deep kiss?
Even in her dazed state, overcome by the heat that had swept through her senses, it was a story she could hardly believe.
"No way."
"You don't trust me? Look to your right."
Without moving his face away, Ezekiel turned his head to the right. Rose, naturally following his gaze, glanced sideways and discovered a solitary statue of a couple. They were kissing.
"When I go for a walk in the garden with someone I like, I guide them from the mansion entrance to face the statues. Then, they hold hands, embrace each other, and upon reaching the final one..."
Ezekiel lightly bit his lip, then pulled and released.
"Like this."
"Did you really have them placed intentionally?"
"It's an old tradition among the noble families of the North. Since the weather is often bad, there aren't many places to go far from here, nor much to see or do. So, when I want to ask someone out, I suggest a walk and subtly hint. If the other person likes me, the statues along the garden path become a rather good excuse. That's why the gardens of Northern mansions are sometimes used to gauge the other person's interest."
"I had no idea. So you must have been laughing inwardly when I suggested going out to the garden."
"I was delighted."
Rose gazed blankly at his clear-cut lips, from which smiles still escaped.
"You will not become the Mistress of the house of Valdemara. I have never seen a mere maid become the mistress of a noble family."
On a fleeting impulse, she reached out and touched the corner of his mouth.
"Why?"
"Just because."
"It's not like you to be so sentimental."
Sentimental...
She felt it anew. He was originally this elegant man.
Freed from the effects of the medicine, he possessed a perfect blend of aristocratic grace and soldierly discipline. When he turned his head, he didn't roll his eyes but pointed his nose in that direction. Then, the slight upward angle of his chin added an air of sophistication to his profile.
It seemed like a habit ingrained through years of education rather than a deliberate, calculated movement. People of good breeding, they say, show it in their eating, speaking, and walking, and here was a prime example.
Suddenly, the vast gap between her and Ezekiel became palpable. Merlo's warning echoed in her mind.
"I know someone who does that kind of thing, contraception. It's usually the job of the lower servants."
She never imagined she would arouse suspicion over a single lemon. And it was from someone else, not this man, who brought it up first.
"Who exactly are you?"
"...I am."
Sometimes, she wished she could forget who she was. Even though she knew she shouldn't, she yearned for the impossible.
"Major."
She wondered if this man had ever felt that way. Had there been days when he wanted to deny himself or run away?
"Have you ever imagined yourself not being part of the Valdemara family?"
She cautiously seized an opportunity and began. She hadn't even gotten to the main point. Yet, as soon as he heard her first sentence, Ezekiel answered with firm finality.
"No."
It was a negation that left no room for any possibility.
