Welcome to the Rose Mansion - Chapter 34
Suddenly, a shadow loomed over her, and she quickly looked up, barely stifling a scream.
Frederick had approached right up to her face.
Matching Richelle’s eye level, he stared intently at her face.
With those black, doll-like eyes. Emitting an intoxicatingly deep rose fragrance.
“Mister Butler.”
No. She couldn’t stay here any longer.
Richelle gathered strength in her clasped hands and hastily stepped back. Her voice trembled thinly.
“I understand. Thank you for the explanation.”
“…”
A kind smile blossomed on the previously emotionless face as if flipping a mask.
“Please feel free to come to me anytime you need assistance, Miss Howard.”
Richelle forced a smile in return, said her goodbyes, and stepped backwards out of the pantry. As soon as the door closed, her legs buckled.
What on earth was going on in this mansion?
“No, don’t think about it.”
Curiosity is poison. Conforming to reality is the best course of action.
Repeating this to herself, she climbed the stairs. Her vision blurred as if in a dream.
She had hoped it was just a mild cold, but it seemed to be taking a severe turn.
“I should take some medicine…”
If only she had continued to carry a comprehensive first-aid kit as before. No one else would take care of her in this place.
But would medicine count as food? Did the mansion have a first-aid kit? Should she ask the head maid?
But what if she were to encounter the same situation with the head maid? Could she maintain her composure as she just did now?
‘I’m dizzy.’
She didn’t want to take another step. She didn’t even know where to go in the first place.
“Hello?”
Startled by the unexpected bright greeting, Richelle lifted her gaze. A maid was smiling broadly at her.
With no energy to even twitch her lips, she merely nodded her head. However, the neat white apron in front of her didn’t disappear.
“Hello?”
The same greeting, in the same tone, was heard again. Richelle barely managed to squeeze out a voice from her parched throat.
“Hello.”
She attempted to pass by first. At that moment, her chin and wrist were grabbed.
“Hello?”
Another greeting. The same greeting again.
What do you want from me? Oh. Is it because I didn’t return the greeting with a smile?
Yes, she knew. It’s better to follow the rules. But she was dizzy. So dizzy that she felt like she was about to faint right here and now.
So, can’t you just let me go now?
She felt hot. Her breathing became rough. She tried to shake off the maid’s hand, but her grip was strong.
“Hello?”
“Let, let go…”
“Hello? Hello? Hello? Hello? Hello? Hello? Hello? Hello? Hello? Hello? Hello? Hello? Hello? Hello?”
The grip on Richelle’s wrist grew stronger. Her consciousness was fading. In her blurred vision, only the maid’s gaping mouth filled the view.
Was this reality? Or a dream? If it’s a dream, from what point did it start?
If it really was a dream.
‘I wish, when I wake up, my father would be there…’
That’s when it happened.
“It’s not even nighttime yet, but here you are, already going stark mad.”
A sharp voice penetrated her foggy mind. Simultaneously, the dark mouth looming before her swiftly receded.
The maid, glassy-eyed, stared behind Richelle for a moment before suddenly turning and walking away. Without any time to brace herself, Richelle’s body was pushed, and she immediately fell backward.
“What’s wrong with you?”
She thought she would fall without fail, but something solid caught her. The piercing smell of disinfectant wafted over.
Richelle rolled her burning eyes upward. There, the blue sky hovered.
No, more brilliantly sparkling than the blue sky—clear and beautiful eyes stared back at her.
Even with her mind in such a haze, she recognized him.
It was Alan Otis, the eldest son of the Otis family.
