Chapter 48
Clang!
A fork fell to the ground, hitting a stone, and the metallic sound rang out loudly.
At the sudden noise, the black shadow turned its head toward me. Even with the sound drowned by the rain, it seemed their hearing was sharp enough to catch it.
From a distance, Inyeong’s sturdy frame looked intimidating. He hesitated for a moment, then began walking toward me.
“Why are you coming! Don’t come!”
I cursed silently at the black shadow, preparing to run.
But for some reason, my feet felt glued to the ground. I must have been too tense.
Hurriedly, I pulled garlic and salt from my pocket and gripped them tightly. Some garlic slipped from my hand and dropped to the ground.
“My garlic!”
Those were precious cloves…
I watched them roll away in a daze, but snapped back to reality. The black shadow was now close enough to reach me.
“Ahh!”
Startled, I screamed and threw the garlic and salt haphazardly.
A few solid cloves hit the shadow’s face in midair.
My ultimate weapon, garlic, had landed with a dull thud on the ground.
“Ahhh!!”
What the—why isn’t it working? Weren’t ghosts supposed to hate garlic?
I trembled with betrayal at the garlic I had trusted. Then, frantically, I bent down to pick up the fork on the floor.
“…Garlic?”
The figure, wiping their face, muttered in a low, chilling voice.
Could it be that it got mad because I threw garlic at it?
Trembling, I picked up the fork. I focused all my energy in my lower abdomen and shouted:
“G-go back to where you belong! You wicked thing!!!”
My voice rang sharply through the rain-soaked garden.
But instead of retreating, the ghost grabbed the fork I held.
“Hik!”
I let out a high-pitched scream without realizing it. My legs went weak at the thought of having the fork snatched, and I dropped the umbrella I’d been holding.
A strong arm caught my collapsing body. The ghost had wrapped its arms around my waist.
“Th-this…!”
I was too shocked to speak. Being grabbed by a ghost… I was almost on the verge of fainting.
I struck the ghost’s chest with my fist. Then a panicked yet familiar voice spoke:
“M-mistress! It’s me!”
Wow, ghosts are really good these days. Pretending to be human, too.
I struggled to keep my wits and replied:
“…Y-you wicked thing! How dare you pretend to be my husband—”
“I’m serious, mistress! It’s me! Apollion Teabrith!”
He kept calling me “mistress,” so it seemed like it really was Apollion… but he would never have been brave enough to hug me like this! Clearly, it was a ghost that knew only part of the story.
I scoffed and pushed his chest.
Then, through the clouds, a pale moonlight broke through, illuminating the garden. Apollion’s face, hidden in the darkness, became visible.
“Oh…”
All I could do was let out a single exclamation.
“…Didn’t I tell you it’s me?”
Under the moonlight, Apollion stood there, drenched in rain and looking exhausted. I could feel the strength leaving his arms as he held me.
“Th-that’s a relief.”
“Yes, indeed.”
“Then… shall we go inside now?”
Seeing his face, I felt a faint sense of relief.
In that instant, the tension that had filled my body drained away like air escaping from a balloon. My limbs went limp.
“M-mistress!”
And just like that, I lost all consciousness.
＊＊＊
Apollion carried the unconscious Petunia toward the nearby gazebo.
Though he wanted to take her directly into the mansion, doing so would surely wake all the servants who were asleep.
He couldn’t bear to carry her to her bedroom. The warmth and softness of her body against him was far too stimulating.
All this stemmed from the book Petunia had mistakenly handed him.
Still, he couldn’t leave her collapsed, so he laid her down in the center of the gazebo. Both of them were soaked from the rain.
He placed the back of his hand on Petunia’s round forehead. Fortunately, her body temperature was normal, so there was no risk of fever. It was a relief, especially since it was summer.
Just in case, he removed his coat, wringing out the water and wrapping Petunia as best he could.
Though his clothes were soaked, so it didn’t help much.
Petunia’s cardigan was heavy with water.
He didn’t dare remove it, so he carefully wrung out the edges.
From the cardigan pocket, a few raw garlic cloves fell out.
“…Garlic?”
Apollion stared at the garlic with its messy, peeled skin.
Why would she carry this around? He remembered she had thrown something at him earlier. That must have been the garlic.
From the other pocket, a partially melted lump of coarse salt and two pieces of paper fell out. The ink had run, making the text unreadable, but there seemed to be strange drawings on them.
Who knows why she carried such things.
Apollion glanced between the soaked Petunia and the fork he had taken from her earlier. The fork, gleaming silver, was shaped like a trident.
“…You really do carry strange things.”
Unconsciously, his face twisted.
He kept looking from Petunia, wrapped up like a little caterpillar, to the silver fork. But her pale, glowing face seemed brighter than the fork.
His intense gaze settled on her serene face.
Her wet eyelashes clung slightly, her plump lips parted slightly, and droplets of water glistened on her cheeks like morning dew. She looked like a tulip soaked in rain.
Without thinking, Apollion reached out and wiped a water droplet from her cheek with his thumb.
The warm droplet, carrying Petunia’s body heat, transferred to his cold hand. Petunia flinched.
“…!”
Apollion’s eyes widened. He realized too late what he had done.
He hastily moved his hand away to the corner of the gazebo. His hand felt scalding hot from contact with her cheek.
He remembered having held her waist with that same hand earlier.
“…I’m insane.”
He muttered while staring at his trembling hand with a hint of self-disgust.
Why had he even gone out into the rain this early morning?
Every time he went to bed, images of Petunia haunted him. Recently, she had appeared in every dream.
Sometimes, in his dreams, she appeared in embarrassing, provocative situations—like a scene from the novel Summer Forest.
Tonight was one of those nights.
He had woken from such a dream, his whole body burning. He could not sleep, dominated by thoughts of Petunia.
He couldn’t confide in anyone. How could a high-ranking noble like him admit to such mortifying thoughts? Anyone who heard would surely look at him strangely, like Yvonne had with that gaze.
Deciding to wake himself up with cold water, he left the house. The rain was a blessing in disguise.
He had only a light indoor jacket and no umbrella.
The cool morning rain washed over him, clearing his mind.
It would have alarmed the servants if they saw him, but all were asleep.
Apollion felt relieved he had come outside, standing still for a while, his heated body cooling down.
Until he spotted Petunia in the center of the garden.
＊＊＊
“…What’s that sound?”
From a distance, Apollion heard a voice.
The rain muffled it, but he could tell it was a woman’s voice.
‘Is there a maid awake at this hour?’
Curious, Apollion raised his head.
He walked toward a shaded area, avoiding well-lit spots, waiting for the mysterious figure to pass.
The woman, mumbling something like a prayer, walked for a while, then turned and headed in another direction from where he stood.
‘Is she sleepwalking?’
The figure disappeared into the distance. Apollion worried she might catch a cold wandering in the heavy rain at this hour.
He thought it would be wise to place some cold medicine near the servant quarters, just in case.
When morning came, he planned to go find Yvonne. Now that he had calmed down, he could finally rest.
‘What is she doing?’
As he turned to leave, Apollion stopped, frowning.
The woman had started pulling something from her pocket and sprinkling it into the air.
Inyeong was already far away, so he couldn’t see clearly. But the behavior seemed unusual for sleepwalking.
‘No… it can’t be.’
A dark thought crossed his mind.
A lone woman in the rain at dawn, reciting unknown prayers and scattering something on the ground…
It looked ominous. No matter how he thought about it…
“Curse…”
It seemed like a new type of curse, one he didn’t know.
He recalled that Western sorcerers used to chant prayers when casting curses.
Apollion felt his blood boil, while at the same time his mind went ice-cold.
From a distance, he began observing the woman carefully.
