Chapter 14:
Serial Murder of Noblewomen (2)
The article read:
According to the reporter’s investigation, more than five witnesses claimed to have seen Duke Valliere escort Ines Ankur home before leaving.
And yet, Count Malev publicly accused the duke as the culprit.
What could his intentions be?
“‘An unending, bitter connection’… huh.”
Gerard let out a hollow laugh as he read the bold headline.
Histein might now be a powerful duke—but in the past, he had been nothing more than a penniless wandering painter who dared to touch his precious sister.
Because of that man, Rosalie’s life had been ruined.
How could he possibly speak kindly of him?
Yes, Gerard had made a sharp remark about the duke in the street—but he had never accused him of murder. The article twisted his words.
All he had said, drunkenly, was that a place like that—a back alley near gambling dens—was somewhere only a man like Valliere would go.
It was careless.
But still… it wasn’t fair.
“They really just write whatever they want.”
“I felt bad for you the whole way here. You should stay home for a while—better than drawing attention by going out.”
“Why should I? I didn’t even say that. If I hide, people will think it’s true.”
“Still… stay quiet at least until the weekend.”
“…Fine. Have you eaten?”
Ramon shook his head—but he had no desire to dine in the now modest Malev household.
“My wife and daughter are waiting.”
“Of course… Thanks for the warning. Maybe I should start reading the papers again.”
After Ramon left, Gerard stood alone, repeatedly rubbing his face.
Soon, Angela appeared in the hallway, holding Theo.
“What’s going on?”
“Well…”
Gerard handed her the newspaper and explained everything.
After listening, Angela stared at the ceiling, worried about Rosalie, who hadn’t left her room all afternoon.
“Why are we always mentioned only in bad news? I just hope this doesn’t affect the marriage talks with the Alua family.”
“If they cared about reputation that much, they wouldn’t have approached Rosalie in the first place.”
“That’s true… but she’s seemed happier lately.”
Both of them sighed.
That night, Rosalie skipped dinner and fell into a deep sleep.
It wasn’t until nine days later that Gerard was finally freed from public scrutiny.
Because another murder happened.
“Already the third one… I don’t understand what’s happening to this world.”
I muttered, carefully reading the newspaper we had recently started subscribing to again.
Three days after the article about Gerard, a woman’s body was found floating in the Mila River.
Her face had been so badly damaged that she couldn’t be identified at first.
But this morning’s paper revealed—
she was Countess Marty, who had gone missing after the charity auction.
“That woman was addicted to gambling, wasn’t she? But… third?”
Gerard asked, frowning. Angela corrected him.
“There are two victims, Rosalie. But still—two noblewomen murdered within a week… everyone is terrified. Though, thanks to that, your scandal has been forgotten.”
“Wait—look at this. Both women were either found near gambling dens or had ties to them. And…”
“They were both redheads.”
Angela and Gerard looked at me at the same time.
A loose strand of my hair fell across my cheek.
I flinched.
“But they’re not the only victims.”
I turned to Angela.
“Do you remember? The day of Princess Camille’s tea party—someone mentioned a murder in Rodin’s back alleys.”
“…You’re right. Now I remember. It was a waitress with beautiful red hair.”
“…Ah.”
“They said her face was brutally mutilated.”
That day had been chaotic—I hadn’t paid attention to such details.
Now, biting my lip, I tugged at my hair.
Burning red hair.
Ines. Countess Marty. The unnamed waitress.
All shared the same hair color as me.
“Rosalie… you shouldn’t go out for a while.”
Gerard spoke anxiously.
“But I went to the boutique just yesterday. And tomorrow, I’m meeting Jeremy at a bookstore.”
“If you’re with Jeremy, it’s safer—but still… why not invite him here instead?”
“…I’m not sure.”
I trailed off.
Unlike the Alua estate filled with books, our townhouse had nothing that would interest Jeremy.
“I’m heading out, Angela. I’ll be back early.”
Gerard suddenly put on his jacket.
After staying home for over a week, he clearly couldn’t stand it anymore.
“Do you really have to go? Leaving us alone when there’s a killer out there?”
“I’ll be back early. Besides…”
He paused, glancing at me.
“They say Duke Valliere will be at the clubhouse. With everything that’s happened, I’d rather meet him directly and clear things up.”
“…Fine. But be back before midnight.”
Angela and Gerard exchanged a brief kiss.
I closed the newspaper and went to warm Theo’s food.
“Something’s wrong, Rosalie. Gerard isn’t back yet.”
I looked up from the book Jeremy had given me.
The clock was nearing midnight.
“He’s probably drunk and enjoying himself.”
“Still… what if something happened?”
Gerard wasn’t the most reliable—but he rarely broke promises to Angela.
Clicking my tongue, I got up to grab a shawl. The air had turned cold again.
As I searched for the stairs in the dim hallway—
The doorbell rang.
A maid rushed to answer it.
After a brief exchange, she called me.
“Miss Rosalie, there’s a visitor.”
“At this hour?”
I walked toward the entrance—then stopped.
The door was wide open.
Moonlight revealed the silhouette of a man.
“I’m a servant from the clubhouse. The count forgot his wallet.”
His voice was hoarse.
Strange. Gerard always checked for his wallet before leaving.
“Tell him to wait.”
I turned to instruct the maid—
Then froze.
“But… there are no men in this house, are there?”
“…What do you mean?”
Something felt wrong.
I turned back quickly.
At that moment—
A cold wind blew.
The man’s hood slipped off.
“Miss…!”
The maid trembled.
Half his face was grotesquely deformed—
And he was smiling.
