Please Kill Me - Chapter 13
‘The security is tighter than I thought.’
This was what Yekaterina thought as she infiltrated the Rostislav residence.
After leaving Offenbach, she had rented a cart for the journey.
‘Lucky there was a brooch attached to it.’
Once she left the mansion and walked a bit, a simple rural scene unfolded before her eyes, with carts carrying haystacks and other loads passing by. She hailed one, told the driver where to go, and paid him with the brooch.
The driver gladly obliged to take Yekaterina to her destination.
However, upon reaching Rostislav residence, she found the security to be more stringent than expected.
‘Entering through the main gate doesn’t seem like a good idea.’
Yekaterina looked down at her attire.
Blood from the monster slaughterhouse had dried in spots on her white skirt. The brooch, which had served as a decoration, was long gone with the driver, leaving her looking rather plain for a noble.
Moreover, revealing her Offenbach surname would surely get her thrown out right at the gate.
Yekaterina thought to herself, ‘I’ll have to sneak in.’
Her skills, honed at Offenbach, were limited to threats and stealth, so she decided to stick to the basics of infiltration.
One good thing was that the journey from Offenbach to Rostislav residence was long enough for night to fall. Infiltration was best done under the cover of darkness.
‘This wall seems climbable.’
She quickly took off her shoes and effortlessly scaled the wall.
She had no intention of sneaking around since she was there to meet the residence’s owner.
Nonetheless, Yekaterina was caught by two patrolling guards, but apart from that, the infiltration was a breeze.
She used the pipes running along the terrace and walls to sneak into the residence.
Of course, for her, infiltration ceased to be stealthy the moment she was spotted. It became an intrusion. The Rostislav residence was shaken by her intrusion.
Unaware of the commotion she caused, she continued hopping across the terrace.
‘Is this the office?’
Balancing precariously on the pipe, she peered into lit rooms. She didn’t immediately find who she was looking for, but the varying curtains in the grand residence provided some amusement.
Then she spotted a familiar figure through a thick curtain.
‘Blonde hair.’
Leonid Rostislav, right? The top floor is usually reserved for the master.
Carefully, Yekaterina opened the lattice window.
The air swept in, causing her silver hair to flutter.
Stepping onto the floor of the room barefoot, she made no sound. However, the man noticed her, or maybe it was just the fluttering curtain that caught his attention, and he stood up.
To confirm the identity of the blonde man, Yekaterina cautiously called out to him.
“Leonid Rostislav?”
“…Who are you?”
Hearing his voice confirmed it. More than his handsome face, it was his distinctive voice that first greeted Yekaterina.
‘Good, I’ve found the right place.’
Should she ask him to kill her now?
Yekaterina, on impulse, was about to get straight to the point when she remembered the content of an etiquette book she had once studied.
It read, [When making a difficult request, first inquire about the other person’s well-being, then smoothly transition into the conversation. Discussing the weather or the well-being of the household is appropriate.]
Yes, that seemed like a good approach.
‘Talking about Rostislav’s family affairs would be strange since I don’t know anything about them. So, starting with the weather seems appropriate.’
Yekaterina blinked slowly, choosing her words carefully, and then spoke.
“Hello, the weather is nice. Our country is always cold, but these days it seems a bit warmer.”
There was no response, but since the etiquette book didn’t mention waiting for an answer, Yekaterina calmly brought up her main point.
“So, here’s the thing, could you please kill me?”
While Yekaterina felt proud of herself for having made the request with perfect manners and etiquette, Leonid was in the midst of doubting his own ears.
‘What did I just hear?’
Did she just ask to be killed?
The woman in front of him was clearly not a guest. So, the only conclusion he could come to was that she must be the intruder who had caused a commotion in the residence earlier.
Considering that intruders usually intend to harm the homeowner, her appropriate line should be, ‘Please die’. Not politely asking for herself to be killed.
‘Surely not.’
It must be a misunderstanding.
“Did you not hear me? Please kill me.”
It wasn’t a misunderstanding.
Leonid had to accept that his hearing was fine.
It was healthier to conclude that he was facing a bizarre intruder than to think he had lost his hearing at a young age.
Of course, that didn’t mean he intended to take her request seriously.
Leonid had something else that piqued his interest.
