Chapter 38
Zeppelin handed the key to Grace.
“The head maid holds the key. Only if unavoidable circumstances arise will she temporarily release the cuffs.”
Zeppelin sent Grace a look full of trust.
Grace, as usual, gave a curt nod.
As she turned away, a faint smile, imperceptible to others, tugged at her lips.
Yes, let’s think of it as nothing more than his final desperate struggle.
Rebecca frowned at the unpleasant weight pressing on her wrists, but soon straightened her face and beamed brightly.
She waved for a long time, until Zeppelin’s carriage vanished from sight.
“I’ve returned, Lady Rebecca.”
Robert knelt at her feet after coming to her chambers.
He seemed worn down, his cheeks thinner than when she last saw him.
Though exhausted in appearance, Robert looked more cheerful than ever.
Rebecca gave him a small smile.
“Does that mean you’ve had some results?”
“N-no, my lady. I did not find the precise evidence you requested. But…”
“But?”
“I found someone who could give us information.”
“Did you find someone who escaped the island?”
Robert looked astonished at her words.
“How did you…? Every time, I think the same thing—if I had known of your insight earlier, I would have assisted you long ago. Perhaps then, I wouldn’t have suffered such disgrace as I do now.”
He frowned as his eyes fell on the cuffs dangling from Rebecca’s slender wrists.
He needed no detailed explanation; he knew instantly what had happened.
The earl’s obsession has flared again.
But this was excessive.
No one had the right to bind their wife in handcuffs under the name of husband.
Wasn’t this nothing different from a prisoner?
Even among the hounds, opinions weren’t much different. They whispered anxiously that the earl was going mad.
And each one secretly fretted, terrified that the flames of his madness might leap onto them.
Unlike Robert, who grew uneasy each time her cuffs rattled, Rebecca appeared composed.
“Isn’t this rather lenient? Handcuffs? I had imagined worse. Today I realized he lacks imagination.”
“My lady!”
“I’m joking. In truth, I’m grateful. He’s removed any chance my heart might falter, so I can punish him all the more freely. By the way, what did the hounds think when they saw me chained?”
“They’re unsettled.”
“As expected. Without concrete proof, Zeppelin has actually made things easier for me. Did you manage to meet the informant?”
“In truth, his whereabouts are uncertain… But if you allow me more time, I will find him without fail.”
Rebecca had tasked Robert with finding clues about the island where Zeppelin had imprisoned his captives.
Feigning illness, Robert investigated Zeppelin’s private islands.
There weren’t many places where he could have secretly confined a large number of people for so long.
Robert concluded that Zeppelin must be hiding them on one of his private islands.
But nothing suspicious appeared on the records, and most of Zeppelin’s islands had been developed into prosperous resorts.
Supplying necessities in secret and stationing guards would be essential. Most likely, he would have gathered them all in one easily controlled place.
So Robert eliminated islands open to tourists from his list.
When he narrowed it down to uncharted, uninhabited islands, he heard rumors of a vagabond claiming to have escaped from one such island.
But Robert missed him by a hair’s breadth, and with no choice but to return to the manor, he came back nearly empty-handed.
“I know this was the best you could do, but still, it’s a bit disappointing.”
Rebecca fell into thought.
Julian had worked hard to give her this chance. During Zeppelin’s absence from the manor, she needed to win at least some of the hounds to her side.
She had secretly hoped Robert would bring back even the smallest lead.
But even without it, it wasn’t a problem. It was a task too difficult to expect quick results.
After much consideration, Rebecca made a decision.
“Robert.”
“Yes, my lady?”
“Are you good at lying?”
“…Excuse me?”
“I’m thinking of telling one.”
“A lie…?”
“Spread a rumor among the hounds.”
“What kind of rumor?”
Rebecca uncrossed her legs and leaned toward Robert, who was still kneeling.
“Rebecca is a saint.”
Her expression as she uttered the word saint was almost chilling.
Fixing her gaze on the dumbstruck Robert, she whispered:
“She has received God’s grace and can foresee the future. She sees the past as well. Her marriage to Zeppelin is the trial of a saint.”
“A saint, my lady? That could bring accusations of blasphemy!”
“I’ll deal with that part. And wasn’t I already called a saint? The angelic countess, beautiful and kind Rebecca Devonshire, worthy of being named a saint. If I decide to become the very thing they already wish me to be, what’s the harm?”
“Well, yes, but… it doesn’t mean you’re a real saint.”
“Robert, you’re more rigid than I thought. A lie becomes truth the moment someone believes it. Even if the person later denies it, no one will believe them.”
It was something Rebecca had experienced countless times in her previous life.
Public opinion could turn an aggressor into a victim, or destroy lives with groundless rumors.
Even when the truth was revealed later, people refused to believe it. Once branded, the stigma followed like a shadow forever.
I nearly got driven out of my village once because of that.
In her past life, a married man had made advances toward her.
Rebecca had flatly rejected him, yet rumors spread that she had tried to seduce him.
Thanks to the efforts of the Libertà salon members who worked hard to clear her name, the misunderstanding was resolved.
But the way the villagers looked at her never returned to normal.
Before long, she became branded as a wicked woman who lured men.
It was then she had truly learned the power of rumors.
“Say I have divine power. That I know where the kidnapped families are being held. That if they side with me, I can save them. Coming from you, the claim will hold weight.”
“They’re a suspicious lot. They won’t believe me so easily.”
“Of course not. Just give them the spark, Robert. I’ll handle the rest. I can fabricate all the visions of the future I like.”
Rebecca then laid out her plan in detail.
Robert’s eyes wavered wildly, while in the corner, Kanna listened quietly with her usual serene smile.
“Rodrigo, you seem in good spirits today.”
“M-my lady!”
Rodrigo nearly jumped at Rebecca’s sudden greeting, snapping to attention.
Perhaps it was because of Robert’s words the night before that Rebecca weighed heavier on his mind than usual.
While watching her, I realized something. Lady Rebecca… she might truly be a saint. She prays every day, asking for strength to endure her trials.
I pray every day too. What’s so special about that?
She can see the future. Remember when she warned us to be wary of water? Do you recall how, just minutes later, you got drenched during the renovation work?
That was just coincidence…
Not only that. Think about it. She meets all the conditions of a saint. Golden hair like the goddess Dephria, blue eyes, skin white as snow, kind in nature—and even the trial of being Count Devonshire’s wife.
Now that you mention it…
Isn’t it strange? Why did she insist on building a relief house as soon as she became countess? Why has she never once denounced the earl’s bizarre behavior?
That’s because he’s holding something over her, isn’t it?
Only we hounds know that. How could such an innocent woman possibly be aware of it? And when he chained her in cuffs, she didn’t resist either. No… there’s something more about her. Something…
You’re talking nonsense…
But because the words came from Robert, Rodrigo was shaken.
Robert was not the kind of man to speak nonsense, not even by mistake.
Come to think of it, she really does look like a saint.
In her white dress, smiling serenely, Rebecca seemed like someone descended from the heavens.
The sunlight streaming behind her made it impossible for Rodrigo to look at her directly.
“Oh, that’s right, Rodrigo. Beware of the sky.”
“…Pardon?”
Rebecca tilted her head upward, speaking with sorrow.
“Why does God give trials only to the good? All I can offer is small clues to help you avoid terrible suffering.”
“……?”
Leaving those cryptic words behind, Rebecca walked away gracefully.
Rodrigo pondered her words as he went to change shifts with another hound.
And at that very moment—
“Watch out!”
A shout rang out, and a large flowerpot crashed down at his feet.
Rodrigo tumbled backward, clutching his pounding chest.
The pot was shattered to pieces.
If he hadn’t been watching the sky so carefully after Rebecca’s warning, a catastrophe might have occurred.
He imagined his head being smashed like the pot and shivered violently.
Swallowing hard, he quickly made the sign of the cross.
Saint!
“At… at last!”
With his long silver hair streaming, Eustaf laughed like a madman.
What had been deep red the day before had now turned fully black.
The leaves’ tips curled into sharp hooks, befitting the name Devil’s Claw.
Wearing thick gloves, Eustaf carefully transplanted the plant.
The fully grown Devil’s Claw sat snugly in a portable, temperature-controlled pot.
“Now the duke’s nagging should ease a little.”
It had already been a month since he arrived at the research facility in Montferrat.
At first, everything had seemed sweet.
“You’re giving me this wonderful facility for free?”
“Of course. You are an indispensable person to me—ah, I mean, to Lady Rebe… Anyway, don’t concern yourself with anything else. Just focus on your research. These are the assistants I’ve hired to help you.”
