Welcome to the Rose Mansion - Chapter 25
“Let me go!”
“I want to become friends with you, Miss. Won’t you invite me to your room? Your room is very nice. You can see roses from the window, on the bed, and even on the rug. There are many roses in the mansion. I will show you the roses. People like roses. It’s good to have roses in your room. Roses satisfy us.”
Murmur, murmur, murmur, the maid’s words flowed endlessly, making no sense at all. The pain in Richelle’s wrist intensified.
How can I escape? What can I do?
Think. Think, Richelle Howard.
She recalled the rules of Bertrand. What must she do about a servant who talked strangely? There were several items for different situations. What could be the purpose of this maid’s behavior?
“It would be nice if you invited me to your room. We can have a fun time counting rose petals. People like that.”
‘…Ah.’
Now she understood.
Richelle swallowed the tears that were welling up reflexively. She lowered the hand that had been trying to pry the maid’s grip away and straightened her back. She tried to stop her body from shaking, though it wasn’t very effective.
But please, let it sound firm.
“I don’t want to.”
The maid’s words abruptly stopped. Richelle spoke again, clearly and firmly.
“I will not invite you to my bedroom.”
“…”
Ah, the maid looked like a stuffed doll, frozen while smiling.
The grip on Richelle’s wrist loosened. Carefully, she pulled her wrist away and began to step backward, never taking her eyes off the maid.
One step back, then another.
One step back, then another again. But the maid followed, still wearing that smiling face.
Fortunately, this was the third floor. Richelle’s bedroom wasn’t far.
She reached the end of the hallway, meaning she had arrived at her bedroom. Richelle fumbled for her room’s doorknob, entered her room, and the maid did not follow but continued to stare at her.
With the same unchanging, smiling face.
‘Think, think.’
The content of the letter wasn’t just about firm refusal. So, the method to deal with someone asking to be invited into your bedroom was…
[As you have been informed, individual bedrooms are provided for all employees of the mansion, and entry into another’s bedroom for reasons other than work-related (such as cleaning) is strictly forbidden.
If someone—no matter how close they may claim to be to you—expresses a desire to be invited into your bedroom, refuse them immediately and firmly. Then, without taking your eyes off them, return to your bedroom and open and shut the door three times. This will ensure no further coercion to invite them in.
Remember, no one in the mansion requires permission to enter for work-related reasons.]
Finally, the complete advice surfaced in her mind. Richelle grasped the doorknob and closed the door once. Then she opened it again.
The maid’s smile had vanished from her face.
She closed and opened the door again.
The maid was glaring at her.
For the last time, she closed and opened the door.
The maid’s eyes no longer showed any black.
She closed the door again. Her hands were trembling. She had followed all the instructions. Was the maid still outside? Or had she left?
Then, the noon bell rang. It was time to attend to the twins’ lunch.
“…”
After a moment’s hesitation, Richelle mustered the courage to open the door.
Outside, there was no one anymore.
Her legs gave way. Richelle slumped gracelessly to the floor, hanging off the doorknob for a while. Her heart was racing much faster than the day she first asked for a postponement of a payment due date when she was younger.
The ones inducing her to break the ‘Rules of Bertrand’ weren’t just the twins.
When wandering outside, the servants occasionally suggested she go to the kitchen for a snack. One even suggested she go downtown this weekend.
But encountering a servant acting as bizarrely as just now was, she swore, a first.
Richelle waited for her heartbeat to return to normal.
‘It’s okay, it’s okay.’
She had known the mansion was strange since a month ago.
She hadn’t witnessed a servant behaving strangely firsthand until now, but she knew the content of the letter wasn’t just a cruel joke.
As if not hearing, as if not seeing.
‘I can endure it. I can withstand it.’
One year isn’t that long.
Richelle got up. She straightened her skirt and composed her expression so no one would notice her agitation.
A trolley with lunch for the twins had already arrived in front of the children’s room. Pushing the trolley, Richelle entered.
“Penny, Nero! Look. Delicious lunch has arrived!”
But Richelle’s trials for the day were far from over.
“Penny? Nero?”
Her trembling voice faded away without reaching anyone. As Richelle grasped the situation, her hands dropped powerlessly. Her eyes widened in shock.
The twins had disappeared.
