Welcome to the Rose Mansion - Chapter 100
Oblivious to everything she was thinking, Alan crossed his arms and cleared his throat awkwardly.
“Ahem. Well, anyway. From watching him all day, it seems like he’s decided to leave us alone for now. He’s probably thinking, ‘Go ahead and struggle all you want.’ That bastard loves to poke at hopes that have been inflated to their limits and burst them. He’s a perverted freak like that.”
“Then, this is our chance. Let’s make full use of the moment Rogéros lets his guard down.”
Richelle looked into the oil lamp in her hand. The flame was burning brightly, as if reflecting her firm resolve.
“Are we heading to the kitchen now?”
“We should. But wait a moment.”
Alan disappeared into the inner room of the study and came back out with another oil lamp. Striking a match to light the lamp, he lowered his voice.
“One last question.”
“Yes?”
“Are you… Are you actually serious about going to the kitchen?”
Alan’s hand was trembling faintly. No matter how much he moved, the flame wouldn’t catch. Richelle watched him silently.
Suddenly, it was as if she could hear his inner voice.
You might die if you go to the kitchen. Are you really going to risk your life?
All for someone like me?
Richelle took the match from Alan’s hand.
“Young Master Otis.”
She struck the match. A brilliant flame burst to life at her fingertips, so dazzling it stole the focus of the room.
As she transferred the flame to the oil lamp, Richelle smiled softly.
“We’re not going there to die. We’re going there to survive.”
She handed the oil lamp over to Alan, placing her hand over his as he accepted it.
“Never forget that.”
Alan stared blankly down at the lamp. Eventually, their eyes met.
“…Alright.”
His eyes, flickering with the flame, found their focus. Though he hadn’t completely erased his faint anxiety and self-doubt, his blue eyes, encasing the sky, were now anchored with a solid thread of determination.
“Yeah. You’re right.”
Alan gripped the oil lamp tightly.
For now, that was enough, Richelle thought.
***
“There’s actually another way down to the basement. It’s a secret passage the chef uses to move food.”
Before leaving the study, Alan explained the plan.
“We’ll use that passage to get to the kitchen. The roses are all afraid of the chef, so they never go near that area. It’s the safest route.”
“Is there any chance we’ll run into the chef in the passage?”
“No. Don’t worry.”
Alan grasped the door handle of the study with a stiff expression.
“Unless there’s something urgent, the chef never leaves the kitchen.”
The door creaked open. Staring into the darkness of the hallway, Alan added meaningfully,
“He has to keep ‘eating’ without rest.”
As soon as they stepped into the hallway, Richelle and Alan ran. It didn’t take long to reach their destination.
When they opened the stone door hidden in the corner of the third floor, a damp and chilly corridor was revealed.
“The chef uses this passage to bring food carts to each floor. I found out about it while poking around the mansion as a kid.”
“Young Master Otis, you know…”
“What?”
Alan Otis turned to look at her. Richelle parted her lips, then shook her head.
“It’s just… so dark. There aren’t any windows or lamps.”
The corridor, lined with gray bricks like an ancient fortress, was indeed pitch-dark, just as Richelle had said.
Because it was a passage used by the massive chef, it was very spacious, but that only added to the heavy, eerie atmosphere that filled the space. It was like the shadow of Bertrand itself.
Alan raised the oil lamp higher. As the light reached further, the oppressive gloom that had filled the passage seemed to lift slightly.
“Let’s go.”
The passage, connecting the third floor to the basement, had a spiral shape.
To accommodate the carts, there were no stairs, only a steep incline, making the structure rather unique. Richelle stepped cautiously to avoid slipping.
As Alan had promised, the passage was empty. The journey to the basement went smoothly.
“Hold on.”
At the stone door leading to the basement, Alan pressed his finger to his lips.
He cracked the door open, peeking outside. Only when he confirmed there was no one around did he signal Richelle to follow.
“It’s clear. Everything’s going as planned so far.”
“Wouldn’t it be better to lower our voices?”
“The chef’s hearing is weak. But his sense of smell is extraordinarily sharp.”
The basement’s appearance wasn’t much different from the passage they had just passed through. Cold stone walls were stacked up, with no attempt to cover them with even a cheap cloth. As a result, the cold air seeped in directly.
“Feeding people in a place like this, goodness. No wonder the maids and servants don’t last long.”
Alan sighed as he shook the crude wooden door of the servants’ dining hall.
Richelle fully sympathized. When she had roamed near the basement entrance while searching for a missing maid, she hadn’t realized just how awful it was. But now, seeing the basement up close, it was nothing short of a wretched prison.
Anyone forced to live and eat here would surely end up trembling in anxiety until they lost their minds.
The two intruders walked carefully, scanning their surroundings. They passed a few wooden doors when it happened.
“Ugh, AAAAAAAAAAHH!”
A blood-curdling scream echoed from somewhere far away.
It was a voice that sounded strangely familiar.
