Welcome to the Rose Mansion - Chapter 120
The next day, Jacqueline heard the screams of her eldest son, Alan. They came from the room where Rogéros was conducting his lessons with Alan.
The child cried out, begging to be saved. But Jacqueline couldn’t bring herself to open the door. She couldn’t rescue her last remaining son from the pain he was enduring.
Panting, she ran out to the garden. The scent of roses rushed toward her like a wave. But instead of retreating, it wrapped around her throat, blinded her eyes, and stifled her breath. It bound her hands and feet and threw her into a pit of helplessness.
Take my body too. Or just drive me mad.
No matter how much she begged the roses, her mind remained painfully clear.
From that day on, the gates of Bertrand were once again tightly sealed.
Jacqueline began to buy jewels. She purchased exotic porcelain, furniture, and silk fabrics. She changed into six different dresses every day, and wore a crown on her head, adorned with diamonds the size of her fist.
She redecorated the mansion, replacing the curtains and rugs, and spent fortunes collecting the works of famous artists.
It was fun, truly enjoyable. Betrayed by love, abandoning her dreams, forsaking her children—what remained in Jacqueline Swann’s hands was nothing but an overwhelming amount of gold.
Yes. That was all she had left.
***
“Hahaha!”
Madam Otis laughed until she was out of breath. Richelle’s hands were drenched in cold sweat.
Before Richelle could say anything, Madam Otis began to obsessively scratch her arms.
“Isn’t it funny, Miss Howard? Isn’t it absurd? That foolish girl gave up her dreams, her future, and took the hand of a man pushed to her by a devil, all while deluding herself that she had carved out her own happiness.”
“Madam…”
“I should have just died. Or gone completely mad. But I couldn’t. The lady of Otis had a role to fulfill.”
Madam Otis stopped her frenzied scratching, and the laughter vanished from her face. She picked up the key from the red velvet cloth.
“As the heir grows, the master of the family fades. That’s why the mistress of Otis must take on the role of representing Bertrand and handle external affairs. You can’t have a corpse or a madwoman in such a position, can you?”
The key jingled in her thin fingers.
“Once I hand you this key, my role will finally come to an end.”
“I…”
“You don’t plan on becoming the next Madam Otis? I know. I’m aware of what you and Alan are planning.”
Madam Otis’s lips twisted into a wry smile, clear self-mockery written on her face.
“But remember this: No matter what you try, as long as you’re in this mansion, you’ll never escape his gaze. If your plans have gone smoothly until now, it’s only because he has shown you mercy. You’re just jumping around on the palm of his hand…”
Just like me.
Madam Otis whispered as if exhaling her final breath.
Richelle clenched her fists. She knew. Of course, she knew.
Rogéros was sitting at the highest point, waiting patiently for the perfect moment to plunge them into the deepest despair.
Madam Otis, watching Richelle, saw the expression fade from her own face.
“Miss Richelle Howard, do you have the strength to bear the weight of this key?”
“…”
It wasn’t a question that could be answered easily. Nor should it be answered hastily.
Richelle met Madam Otis’s gaze in silence. Her once-bright sky-blue eyes that may have sparkled like Alan’s at one point.
But now, those eyes were sunken, completely devoid of hope.
After a long moment of staring into those eyes, Richelle reached out and took the key.
“I know there’s a high chance we’ll fail. But…”
She gripped the key tightly, ensuring it would not slip from her grasp.
“Alan and I will run as far as we can.”
“…”
“As long as we have legs to run. Even if we lose them, as long as we’re still breathing.”
Madam Otis’s hand, which had been holding the key, slackened.
She rose from her seat, the heavy jewelry draped over her body clinking as she moved.
“Go now. We’re finished here. The chef is already dead, so you won’t be needing any more of my advice.”
Her face remained expressionless to the end.
Perhaps that’s why she seemed so incredibly free.
“Madam Otis.”
At the same time, there was something precarious about her. Richelle hurriedly stood to follow her.
“No, Jacqueline. I…”
“It’s been a long time since someone called me that name. I’ve been bound to the role of Madam Otis for so long.”
A faint smile appeared on Jacqueline’s face. It was the first time Richelle had ever seen a smile from her that felt like a genuine laugh.
She turned her back firmly.
“Go, Miss Howard. There’s nothing you can do to help me.”
“But Jacqueline…”
“Just…”
Jacqueline couldn’t finish her sentence right away. Her throat seemed to close up, as if she had no right to say what she was about to.
But in the end, she forced the words out.
“Please, take care of Alan.”
She never looked back.
