Welcome to the Rose Mansion - Chapter 19
Red wine, like blood, flowed over the meat. The wine seeped into the white tablecloth, staining it damply.
“Alan.”
Rogéros called out again to Alan Otis. Alan’s lips curled in an unmistakable sneer.
“Something like this.”
The young man still held the wine glass in his hand. The moment his eyes met Rogéros’s, Alan unhesitatingly threw the glass.
The wine glass flew to a corner of the dining room, shattering into pieces with a sharp noise.
“Shove it in your own mouth. I can’t eat this dog food.”
Richelle gasped at the harsh statement, but Rogéros calmly continued eating, wiping his mouth with a napkin in a dignified manner.
“Alan, I thought I told you to behave courteously in front of Miss Howard.”
“So?”
Alan Otis thrust his hands into his trouser pockets, his eyes sharply challenging Rogéros.
“Bring thousands. See if I’ll dance to the tune of the great Rogéros Walter.”
Kicking his chair aside, Alan Otis left the dining room. Richelle couldn’t believe that the refined student of Rogéros Walter and heir to the distinguished Otis family was such a ruffian.
“Are you alright, Miss Howard?”
While Richelle was still following Alan’s afterimage, a careful inquiry came. Turning around, she saw Rogéros looking at her with an extended gaze.
“I’m sorry. I should apologize on his behalf. Managing Alan is part of my role.”
“No… it’s alright. I wasn’t hurt. You don’t need to apologize, Mister Walter.”
“No, it’s correct for me to take responsibility. Please forgive us. Young Master Alan has been a bit sensitive lately.”
“Ahahaha!”
A sharp laugh interjected between Rogéros’s apologies. It was Madam Otis, who had been quietly toying with her salad amidst the chaos.
In front of all the attention, Madam Otis’s smirk faded into an expressionless, waxen face, simply moving her fork.
Clack. Clack. Clack. She repeatedly stabbed around a cherry tomato. Like a malfunctioning machine, endlessly. Clack. Clack. Clack.
After numerous failed attempts, Madam Otis’s hand rose higher. Finally, the fork descended vertically towards the cherry tomato.
Clatter!
The fork successfully pierced the tomato but also shattered the plate. The tablecloth, already stained red by the wine Alan Otis had generously poured, was now a complete mess with the remnants of the salad. It was beyond continuing the meal.
Yet, no one seemed to care. The footmen stood quietly in a perfect line with their ideal servant smiles, and Madam Otis brought the possibly fly-touched cherry tomato to her lips.
The tempting tomato smoothly slipped between her red lips. Richelle watched the scene in a daze.
Madam Otis’s pale cheeks slowly moved, followed by a gentle swallow. Soon after, a strangely pleasant smile bloomed on her face.
“Shall we end tonight’s dinner here?”
Richelle glanced between the shattered white plate and Madam Otis’s beautiful face. Many thoughts rose, but there was only one thing she could utter.
“It was a wonderful dinner. Thank you for the invitation.”
***
“Madam Otis suffers from nervous breakdowns.”
Rogéros explained casually. Richelle glanced up at him.
“Nervous breakdowns?”
“The marriage between Master and Madam Otis isn’t a happy one. Master Otis hardly stays at Bertrand.”
“Ah…”
“With the parents’ relationship being strained, the children too couldn’t grow up in peace.”
Reaching the end of the staircase, Rogéros extended his hand in an escorting gesture. Holding his hand felt like being at a ballroom.
“The current Otis family is in many ways ‘unconventional’. It must seem strange to you, Miss Howard.”
“You must have worked at Bertrand for quite a long time, Mister Walter. You seem almost like family.”
“Since I practically raised Young Master Alan Otis, it does feel like family. Of course, it’s not something I can openly admit in front of the Otis family. I’ve been with them since Young Master Alan was a twelve-year-old boy, so it’s been about six years.”
Then, have you been unable to leave the mansion for six years?
I found a letter in my room. Are you aware of those bizarre rules mentioned in it? Are the things written in that letter true?
There’s something odd about this mansion. Or is it just my imagination?
Richelle swallowed down the rising questions. A strong premonition told her not to voice her curiosities recklessly.
