Chapter 43
“You really act like my companion.”
Meow.
“But why did Julian lie to me?”
By rough calculation, he could only have been here for an hour at most.
Julian had clearly said it would take three hours before he could teleport.
“Ugh, I don’t know!”
Rebecca hugged Leo and flopped down on the bed.
Leo was startled for a moment but chose to simply stay in her arms.
“I think I might have a fever…”
Her forehead felt warm. The effects of the Devil’s Claw seemed to be beginning.
In her dimming, hazy consciousness, Rebecca thought of Julian, who had vanished like a mirage.
Pet me.
His hair had been as soft as Leo’s fur. Every time she ruffled it, a pleasant scent would drift over her.
Ahh…
Rebecca dreamed.
In her dream, she was alone in a dark tunnel. No matter how far she walked, the darkness stretched endlessly, tormenting her.
But strangely, Rebecca wasn’t afraid.
She kept walking forward.
The pitch-black void pressed in from all sides, but she had a sense that this tunnel, too, would someday end.
At last, she reached the end of the tunnel, where a tightly shut iron door awaited her.
Looking down at her hands in confusion, she found a key had appeared in them.
At the end of the key was engraved the crest of House Johannes.
Rebecca placed the key into the lock and turned it.
As she pushed hard, the sturdy iron door creaked open with a grotesque sound.
Suddenly, blinding light poured in. Rebecca raised her hand to shield her eyes. Someone called her name.
Rebecca.
A familiar voice. Painfully gentle.
He reached out his hand.
The moment she took his large hand, Rebecca thought:
Am I allowed to be happy?
She stepped through the door.
Bathed in dazzling light, he was smiling brightly.
Softly, Rebecca called his name.
Julian.
The balcony doors opened, and the cool breeze tousled golden hair.
Even as moonlight poured down, jealous of her glow, the angelic figure lay asleep, unawakened.
Julian stood tall, staring down at the deeply sleeping Zeplin.
In his mind, he ran through every cruel torture method he knew, punishing Zeplin in imagination.
I’m sorry! I was wrong! Please stop… Aaargh!
Even imagining his screams for a moment made him feel slightly better.
Julian’s eyes burned like hellfire.
How dare he…
When Rebecca had appeared in handcuffs, Julian had cursed Zeplin over and over in his heart.
He hadn’t even mentioned it aloud, fearing she might feel shame about being restrained.
But when he saw her swallow the harsh Devil’s Claw just to avoid a night with Zeplin, his reason snapped.
Julian drew his sword.
The chill of the night air clung to the blade.
He raised it high with both hands, aiming straight at Zeplin’s neck.
When the edge was almost touching his soft flesh, Julian stopped.
If he killed him now, everything would be simple.
Rebecca would escape that horrific mansion, and as her widower, he could marry her swiftly, just as planned.
But Julian didn’t. He couldn’t.
Zeplin had far too many sins to atone for to die so easily.
Even if he were to be slain with a single stroke, that was Rebecca’s right, not his.
Julian believed his only role was to help her one day crush that vile face herself.
Clang—
With a regretful sound, the sword slid back into its sheath.
Julian looked once more at the obliviously sleeping Zeplin, then turned away.
Waiting wasn’t his style, but he had no choice.
“Rebecca…”
In his sleep, Zeplin murmured Rebecca’s name.
Julian froze mid-step at the dreamy voice.
He turned back, eyes flashing with murderous intent.
That voice must have called her while doing unspeakable things. Rage exploded uncontrollably from deep inside him.
Rebecca will understand this much.
Julian’s eyes widened.
Hellfire erupted from him like a volcano spewing molten lava.
He clenched his fist tightly and swung it toward Zeplin’s face.
Crack!
The sound of breaking bone rang out.
“Aaaargh!”
Zeplin woke with a scream of pain, clutching his throbbing eye as he searched for the intruder.
But there was no one in the room.
Only the balcony curtains flapped in the night wind, the door left wide open.
Inside a swaying carriage, Zeplin held up a mirror, examining where the bruise had been.
He should have returned home a week earlier, but the lingering bruise had forced him to delay.
He hadn’t wanted Rebecca to see his ruined face.
Fortunately, the ointment secretly delivered by his hounds had worked; the bruise had faded faster than expected.
Who on earth…
He recalled that night.
When he had risen from bed in agony, the bedroom door was still locked from the inside.
The only changes were the open balcony window and the massive bruise on his left eye.
His room had been high up—no ordinary person could have climbed it.
So the intruder must have been highly skilled.
But why spare me?
Someone with that ability could have killed him easily.
A fatal blow would have been less unsettling than this.
The intruder had inflicted just enough damage to stop short of breaking bones.
Unable to read their intentions, Zeplin felt deeply uneasy.
Was this the emperor’s doing?
He realized he might need to reassess Zahidra.
The emperor was likely a far more cunning old man than he had assumed.
The carriage jolted violently.
Irritated, Zeplin shouted at the driver.
“Can’t you drive properly?!”
“S-sorry, sir! The road is rough…”
It was the middle of nowhere, the most remote of remote villages.
Zeplin still couldn’t believe he had been stuck in such a backwater for over a month.
At least nothing major had happened at the estate during his absence.
He had strictly ordered his hounds to report any disturbance.
For a month, their reports had said the same thing: peace as usual.
Zeplin longed for the familiar Devonshire estate, yearning to return to his well-ordered world.
He stared anxiously out the window.
Once he returned, everything would be resolved.
This baseless unease, he told himself, was only because he’d been away from home too long.
“Master!”
The moment Zeplin stepped down from the carriage, Grace and the butler Octavio rushed out to greet him.
Alicia followed slowly behind.
Zeplin nodded lightly to Grace and Octavio, then brushed a kiss against Alicia’s cheek.
“You’ve lost some weight, Alicia.”
“It must be because I missed you.”
“By the way, where is Rebecca?”
Running his hand through his hair, exhaustion written all over his face, Zeplin looked around.
The one he had most wanted to greet him was nowhere in sight.
Octavio asked in confusion:
“Didn’t you hear the news?”
“What news?”
“Lady Rebecca…”
“What about her?”
Zeplin’s eyes widened.
Octavio continued calmly.
“She is ill. Since last week, she has suffered from a mysterious high fever, and three days ago blisters began to appear on her body…”
“What?! Why am I only hearing this now? Didn’t you report there was nothing wrong?!”
Octavio answered awkwardly.
“No, sir. I have been sending reports continuously about her condition. Colin was in charge of delivering the letters—he should know.”
“Colin!”
Startled at his name, Colin, who had been standing among the servants, stepped forward.
Radiating a suffocating murderous aura, Zeplin demanded:
“Explain.”
“I-I swear, I left the letters exactly where you ordered—in the gap between the garden wall bricks.”
“And how could the contents have been changed?”
Zeplin seized Colin by the collar and lifted him effortlessly into the air.
Colin was a fairly new hound, a quick and clever boy mainly used for discreet deliveries.
Tears streaming down his face, Colin stammered:
“It’s true! Ah—now that I think about it, last week when I was delivering a letter, I saw a big man loitering nearby.”
“A big man?”
“Y-yes! He had red hair and a cross-shaped scar on his left cheek.”
Zeplin dropped Colin roughly to the ground.
“…So even my secret correspondence has been intercepted?”
He must have truly angered the emperor.
Zahidra. So this is how you dare to play it?
Burning with vengeance against the emperor, Zeplin hurried toward Rebecca’s room.
“Ugh.”
As he neared, a foul stench reached him. Zeplin quickly covered his nose with his sleeve.
Something was wrong.
His heart pounded with dread.
After what felt like an eternity, he finally opened the door—and staggered back at the sight of Rebecca.
All he could do was let out a strangled groan.
“Ah…”
“Zeplin…”
Propped up by Kanna, Rebecca struggled to rise from the bed.
Her eyes were as beautiful as ever, but the rest of her body was ravaged by horrific blisters.
Her once-smooth skin was gone, her hands and feet grotesquely swollen.
Worst of all was the unbearable stench filling the room, making Zeplin recoil.
There was no trace of the beautiful Rebecca he had once adored.
Zeplin collapsed to his knees.
“Why… why!”
His anguished wail echoed through the mansion.
His grief was so raw that none within the estate dared even breathe.
“There must be a way! Fetch the doctors, now!”
Zeplin staggered to his feet.
Thankfully, Grace had already summoned the physicians in advance.
Zeplin slapped the eldest doctor across the face.
“How could you let my wife become like this?!”
