Welcome to the Rose Mansion - Chapter 123
Creak, creak, creak.
The pale toes swayed in an arc, making an unpleasant sound.
Richelle stared vacantly downward. A chair, draped in red silk and adorned with gold accents, rolled at her feet. Her vision blurred and cleared in cycles.
It can’t be.
Creak, creak, creak.
The noise grew louder in her ears.
It can’t be true.
Creak, creak, creak.
The sharp sound grated against her eardrums.
Impossible.
Her eyes, cruelly adjusting to the darkness, began to see more clearly. The light from the oil lamp in her hand spread farther. And so, Richelle could finally see.
Slender ankles connected to the feet. Above those, a dress more simple than usual, yet all the more elegant. An elegant silver bracelet hung from the wrist, and a pink diamond ring adorned the ring finger of the left hand.
Her blonde hair, tinged with pink, was neatly braided and fell down to her waist. The neckline of the dress exposed her delicate shoulders.
And around her neck…
Around her neck, instead of her favored pearl necklace, there was a thick rope…
“Ah… Ah…”
The oil lamp in her hand cast light on the overturned chair and the feet suspended in midair, as if it were the spotlight on a stage.
Creak, creak.
The feet swayed, and Richelle’s mind swayed with them.
Creak, creak, creak.
The rhythmic sound echoed like the ticking of a clock, mingling with the sound of children crying. Had she managed to shield the children’s eyes in time?
Her waist felt damp, and her stomach rumbled. Even in her dazed state, Richelle realized she had been holding the children close, protecting them.
But now, she needed to do something for Jacqueline as well. She needed to take her down. Her neck must be in pain.
And yet, Richelle couldn’t move a finger. It felt as though the rope around Jacqueline’s neck had extended, binding Richelle’s limbs, holding her still.
It was as if she were about to be sealed forever in this moment, alongside the woman who was now eternally trapped in the past.
It was then that she heard it.
“Richelle?”
A voice she had least wanted to hear, now calling to her from behind.
“I saw you go down to the second floor with those children, so I followed. What are you doing in Mother’s room?”
No.
“It’s strange, there aren’t any roses in the hallway tonight. But where is Mother…?”
Richelle turned around in a panic. But it was too late. Alan’s voice had already fallen silent.
The boy’s gaze wandered around the pale feet, dangling in the air.
There was no time for thought. Richelle rushed to him, pulling him into her arms and pressing his face against her shoulder.
“Don’t look, Alan.”
“Mother?”
“Please, don’t look.”
“Why… Why is Mother…”
“Please, Alan, please don’t.”
“Mother… This isn’t real, is it? It’s a lie, isn’t it?”
His breathing grew ragged, his chest rising and falling in large, uneven gasps. Richelle could feel his frantic heartbeat against her.
“I… I… I should have… I should have come right away… I should have listened to you and come right away!”
“Alan, this isn’t your fault. Please, just…”
“Aah… Aaaah!”
It felt as if the boy would shatter in her arms. Richelle held him tighter, his trembling hands clinging desperately to her back.
And then, his body collapsed, sliding down to the floor.
“No! Nooo! Aaaaaah!”
There were no tears to soak Richelle’s blouse. His sorrow and despair had surpassed the point of tears, drying out all the moisture in his body.
The boy screamed without even realizing it. He cried out until his throat was raw.
No matter how much he writhed or screamed, Richelle did not loosen her embrace. She kept holding him, gently patting his back, transferring whatever warmth she could.
All she could offer the boy who had just lost the last of his family was the pitiable comfort of human warmth.
