Part 2, Chapter 6
Isn’t That the Basic Duty of a Noble?
Isn’t that the most basic rule of nobility?
Those beneath you must be governed with appropriate rewards for good deeds, and appropriate punishment for wrongdoing.
Karl tapped the bent balcony railing he was still gripping—tap, tap—with the tips of his fingers, as if measuring something.
When a slave makes a mistake, it is the master who punishes them.
Then what about when the master is the one who makes a mistake?
At that moment, the sound of footsteps climbing the stairs outside the door reached his ears. Ever since his awakening, Karl’s hearing had grown unnaturally sharp.
Along with the footsteps came a voice. Judging from it, it seemed to be the count, who had just arrived at the villa after receiving Odette’s telegram.
“This is driving me insane. I thought that girl was finally becoming useful, and then she suddenly goes and kills herself. Damn it…”
The count, apparently never imagining that someone could overhear him at this distance, muttered crudely as he climbed the stairs.
Disgust swelled in Karl’s crimson eyes as he eavesdropped on the count’s words.
Just as Karl’s irritation peaked, the door creaked open.
“What? Why are you… here?”
Karl’s gaze didn’t go to the count’s face, but to his hand.
More precisely, to the severed thread bracelet he was holding.
Now that Odette had been officially declared dead, the magical tool—the bracelet—had been cut as well.
Since it was a bracelet that governed “contracts,” it lost its power the moment her death was processed in the records.
“I’m sorry I couldn’t keep my promise.”
“Goodbye. Please take care, everyone.”
What should I do, Master?
Judging by the farewell she had given him back then, Odette had probably wanted to end their relationship as master and slave. She had even gone so far as to release the brand that had been bound to his blood without his consent.
That meant he no longer had any obligation to obey Odette. Moreover, he had awakened as a Transcendent—naturally, the Empire would grant him emancipation.
Imperial law was clear on that point. A Transcendent was far too valuable a being to keep as a slave.
But… still.
What if what I want is to live as a slave?
What if emancipation and Imperial law mean nothing to me at all?
Before that, shouldn’t I correct my master’s habits first?
Karl tightened his grip on the lower part of the balcony railing he had been tapping with his fingertips.
A sharp metallic sound rang out, and the already twisted railing snapped cleanly, plummeting into the sea below in an instant.
There was nothing left of the railing on the balcony.
The count’s face drained of all color as he watched Karl pulverize the railing with his bare hands.
He looked stunned—as though he had come face-to-face with a long-standing nightmare.
To follow orders and receive punishment instead of a reward. Whether you’re handling a slave or a dog, that’s not how it should be done.
As if to soothe the count, Karl spread a bright, gentle smile across his face and rose from his seat.
“Count.”
If his master were still alive, there was only one direction she would turn to.
His master was a blindly devoted person. She would never let go of revenge.
Karl turned a polite expression toward his terrified target.
“I’m quite flustered myself, now that my master has suddenly died. Count, who am I supposed to serve from now on?”
He met the count’s wary gaze.
It’s better to buy the target’s trust.
Rather than chasing after his master, Karl decided to hold the count in the palm of his hand.
So that she would have no choice but to walk into his grasp of her own accord.
We can discuss the punishment my master deserves when that time comes.
Odette would have no choice but to return.
And once she did, she would never be able to leave again.
Having foreseen that future, Karl smiled in contentment—like a well-fed predator.
Extra Chapter 4. Karin’s Perspective
Lady Albrecht was dead.
In other words… Odette was dead.
At the Mersault villa, she had pulled the trigger of a pistol pressed to her own head, then thrown herself off the cliff below.
Throughout the maid’s halting explanation of the entire sequence of events, Karin was unable to think of anything at all.
It felt as though her mind were filled with dense fog—clouded, blurred, incapable of forming coherent thoughts.
“That can’t be true… Why would she…?”
She forced the words out as if wringing them from her throat, but they wouldn’t continue. A wave of dizziness washed over her.
The sky spun, her vision darkened, and it felt as though the ground beneath her were collapsing.
Karin instinctively flailed her hands and grabbed onto whatever she could. When her sight returned, she saw the maid’s face above her, tearful and filled with pity as she looked down at her.
Only then did Karin realize that what she had desperately clutched was the hem of the maid’s skirt.
“H-hic… Miss…”
It was strange.
Why did the drawing room behind the maid look exactly the same as always?
Why was the sky outside the window still so clear and blue?
She was dead.
Karin’s world had been completely overturned, crushed beyond recognition.
So how could the world remain so intact and peaceful?
Karin tightened her grip on the maid’s skirt. But no matter how she struggled, she couldn’t stop herself from sinking into a bottomless abyss.
After that, her memories became unclear.
After Odette’s death, Karin shut herself away in a pitch-dark room with the curtains drawn. On some days, she thought she had screamed, demanding that the clock be taken away—the ticking of the second hand was so loud it felt as though it would tear her eardrums apart.
On other days, she became eerily calm.
So this is what the emotion called “grief” feels like, she thought. As though she had become someone else, she observed her own emotions from a distance and even laughed faintly.
And then, at times, unbearable rage would suddenly surge up.
Why couldn’t I stop Odette? What should I have done to save her?
She despised herself for being so pathetic. No—perhaps what she truly hated was the world itself. How could you laugh and chatter in a world where Odette had died? How could everything continue on so normally?
After venting all her anger, she would collapse onto the floor like a lifeless corpse. In those moments, the days she still had left to live felt unbearably long.
How many days like that passed?
On a day when winter rain poured down mercilessly, Karin—her face gaunt and hollow—made her way into the garden.
It was an impulsive act, driven by how unbearable even the servants’ worried gazes had become.
She called it a walk, but in truth, it was closer to aimless wandering. She brought no attendant with her and told no one where she was going.
After all, there was no such thing as a proper “stroll” for a noble young lady wandering the rear garden like a ghost, carrying only a single black umbrella.
That was when it happened.
“Lady Karin.”
From beyond the back gate, a low, warm voice—soft as the sound of a flute—whispered her name.
That voice shouldn’t exist in this world anymore. Have I started hearing things now?
Even as she thought it must be an illusion, Karin couldn’t stop herself from turning toward the sound.
…Why is there someone standing there…?
Where she looked, a hooded figure of unknown identity was standing—so close to the cold iron gate tangled with thorny vines that they barely avoided being pricked.
Then, once again, the voice spoke.
“Lady Karin. Have you been well?”
“N-no… it can’t be…”
“I came to let you know that I’m alive.”
“Lady Odette?”
“…Yes.”
“My goodness—merciful God!”
Karin let out a scream, then—gasp—clapped both hands over her mouth.
She hadn’t fully grasped the situation, but at least she understood that this was not something others should see right now.
After all, the woman had pulled her hood low and waited for her at the back gate.
How could you scream without thinking? You almost caused trouble for Lady Odette, you idiot!
Karin quickly scanned her surroundings. Thankfully, no one was nearby.
Only after checking thoroughly did Karin run toward the iron gate where Odette stood.
