Judith sipped her tea calmly in front of the Master, her voice slow and measured.
“So that’s how it is. You lied to me.”
By now, the Master had let out a heavy sigh, pressing a hand to his forehead. Speaking with a tone that conveyed both exasperation and helplessness, he said,
“Please understand. We cannot always live speaking only the truth to each other, can we?”
“Of course. I understand. But I have always spoken the truth to you, Master.”
“W-well… at the Information Exchange, some matters are naturally sensitive and delicate.”
“That may be so. But I confided in you even about the most delicate matter of all—my pregnancy.”
“Hah… Judith. From my position, I cannot, of course, disclose everything to our clients.”
“Of course. But I was not just a client—I was a client whose life you saved.”
Judith’s serene remark drew an even deeper sigh from the Master, as if he were trapped in indecision. She lowered her eyes gracefully and continued.
“You could have simply said you didn’t want to tell me. There was no need to go so far as to fabricate the absence of informants…”
“That is not a lie,” he said quickly. “There truly are no informants there. I swear it.”
“But you know the truth, don’t you?”
Judith’s words prompted the Master to click his tongue and chuckle wryly, shaking his head.
“Truly… I rarely lose my composure… but speaking with you feels as though I become someone else entirely.”
“Is that so?”
Judith nodded lightly, her expression somber.
“But don’t try to excuse your earlier lie with such words.”
“Hah…”
The Master folded his arms. His mask made it impossible to read his expression. Judith, as always, remained calm, gazing out the window or sipping her tea with unhurried patience. Three years had passed since she first entered his space; the pauses in their conversations were no longer awkward.
After a considerable silence, he finally spoke.
“I know of a secret passage.”
“Excuse me?”
“I know of a secret passage in the Duke’s estate. I acquired the knowledge some time ago. This… means I can help prevent any danger from befalling the young master.”
This was new information. Judith blinked, her mind quickly turning over the possibilities.
The second son of the House of Maius, Ekián’s younger brother, was named Karl.
Karl had been very close to his missing brother, Ekián. Their age gap made Ekián protective of him, and after his disappearance, Karl had become a subdued and melancholy boy.
“Karl Maius… he’s actually the villain of this story.”
A kind and innocent child, his upbringing had been far from ideal. The once harmonious family fractured completely after Ekián’s disappearance and the untimely deaths of their parents.
Suddenly head of the household, Karl grew into a twisted personality, eventually developing an abnormal obsession with the story’s radiant heroine. The good-natured heroine, however, had only treated the younger Karl with quiet kindness, seeing him as a child to be fondly indulged—but she was the one who suffered for it.
“In the original story, the Duke and Duchess died in an accident, not because they were cruel parents. But there was someone else who influenced Karl more than his own parents…”
That someone was the maid, Sarah, who was close to Karl. The very maid who had pretended to be pregnant with Ekián’s child.
Having always held sway over Karl, Sarah’s influence only grew after taking the Maius name. She began abusing him more openly.
Even if Judith, stepping into the role of the false daughter-in-law, could prevent the intensified abuse, Karl was likely still being mistreated.
“Without the Duke and Duchess knowing, she must be exploiting the boy’s immaturity with remarkable subtlety…”
Once inside the estate as a daughter-in-law, it would be too late. The household staff would not automatically ally with Judith; naturally, they would side with Sarah, who had worked there for years. Everyone would regard Judith as a suspicious outsider, and any action she took would swiftly be reported to Sarah.
“A secret passage?”
Judith’s eyes gleamed as she addressed the Master.
“Very well. Then I think I know a way. You’ll just have to help me, Master.”
The original story offered only limited information, mostly Karl’s childhood memories.
“The time and place of the abuse aren’t mentioned!”
To prevent it, she needed to know when and where. She had intended to ask the Information Exchange to provide “the times and places Karl and Sarah are often together.”
She had not held high expectations—outside sources rarely know what the estate’s residents themselves do not.
Sarah was no fool; she was cunning and controlled Karl’s mind with great skill. The abuse likely did not occur in his room either, as it was well-monitored.
Judith had broached the subject with the Master half-expecting nothing, yet she had stumbled upon a far better opportunity than she anticipated.
“Knowing a secret passage is even better!”
After the Master revealed that he knew a “secret passage” leading into the Duke’s estate, Judith decided on a simple course: surveillance.
She would hide near Karl’s room, eavesdropping on any conversation with Sarah. Surely, Sarah would instruct Karl on “where to be and at what time.”
According to the Master, through the secret passage, one could hear conversations taking place in a space separated by a single wall. Judith, amazed and pleased, asked,
“But Master, how did you come by such information?”
“Well, it happened, by chance.”
“Indeed. It would have been foolish to ask a Master of the Information Exchange for something like this.”
Now understanding why the Master did not need informants, Judith found it sensible: he could always infiltrate and obtain information himself. In his crisp voice, he said,
“Please keep this passage a secret from the Duke and Duchess.”
“But isn’t it concerning? For outsiders to enter so freely, the security must be terrible.”
“It is not terrible. I swear, I am the only one who knows this passage, and I never intended to use it.”
“Someone must have taught you this passage, right?”
“They are already dead.”
“Oh my.”
Judith vaguely assumed the person was likely a descendant of the estate’s original architect. The passage, not mentioned in the original story, probably had little significance.
According to the Master, the passage was far too intricate to depict on a map. His proposed method was simple:
“We must go together.”
Judith hesitated at the thought of entering the unfamiliar mansion alone, but she felt reassured that the Master, with whom she had transacted steadily for three years, would accompany her. Though this was the first time they would undertake something alone, she trusted he would do nothing harmful to someone whose life he had saved.
“Should I just hide near young Master Karl’s room?”
“For now, yes.”
So they resolved immediately to venture together through the secret passage. Strangely, the Master seemed more hurried than Judith.
“Shall we depart immediately?”
“Now?”
“Do you have other matters to attend to?”
“Not exactly…”
“Is it not urgent if a child is being secretly abused?”
Judith lightly reflected that the Master must have a fondness for children. Perhaps he had suffered abuse in his own youth. Though his expression remained hidden behind his mask, he clearly regarded this matter with utmost importance.
As they walked through the secret passage connecting to a crumbling outbuilding’s basement…
“Wait.”
It was pitch dark. Judith began to falter, and the Master murmured, “Excuse me,” taking her hand.
His hand was enormous, warm, and commanding.
“This…”
The passage was narrow, barely wide enough for one person. Gradually, Judith found herself pressed almost entirely against the Master. Due to their size difference, it appeared she was being carried along.
She could not bear to separate from him, so she clung as best she could, silently chiding herself as her heart fluttered.
“Why is it so… close?”
