Welcome to the Rose Mansion - Chapter 38
So, what should be done next? The letter containing Bertrand’s rules was no mere jest. Any attempt to escape recklessly would not end well.
“What I can do now is…”
Follow the rules strictly and ignore everything else.
Act indifferently in the face of any bizarre phenomena, act as she usually would. Heed the advice of the letter not to be curious. Heed Alan Otis’s advice to discard the ‘nosy sympathy’.
Focus only on what she was responsible for.
Richelle warmed her cold hands and put the letter into the envelope. It was already Tuesday. If she didn’t deliver the letter today, the reply to Meg would be delayed by a week. After sealing the letter, Richelle quickly tidied up.
It was when she opened the drawer to add ink. Richelle’s gaze suddenly fell on a corner of the drawer. There, two medicine bottles were neatly placed.
She carefully picked up the bottles. The green eyes that gazed at the rolling white pills inside darkened.
The day she received these medicine bottles from Alan Otis, after he left the chilling greeting, he immediately left the room. Left alone, Richelle clutched her numb wrist and followed only the afterimage of the young man.
The medicine was so effective that the fever quickly subsided not long after. What greeted Richelle, now back to her senses, was nothing other than a tidal wave of embarrassment.
She had acted presumptuously.
Only that thought circled her mind.
Richelle Howard does not know much about the Otis family. She does not know why Master Otis does not return to the mansion, why Madam Otis neglects and even abuses her children, why Alan Otis rejects his siblings… She thoroughly knew nothing.
She should not have carelessly criticized him. Especially since Alan Otis was a victim of both psychological and physical abuse. She shouldn’t have spoken as if to lay blame on him.
It was a cruel act. She knew better than anyone how much casually thrown righteous words could hurt, yet she did it anyway.
Moreover, what was truly shameful was that her actions were not merely out of pity for the twins.
If she were to be honest, Richelle must admit that saw herself in the twins. The sight of children yearning for love from an indifferent mother reminded her of her past… and current self.
So, she poured out her own sorrows onto Alan Otis.
‘Yet here I am, not sending any word to my own mother.’
Richelle smiled bitterly while stroking the surface of the medicine bottle. Her heart ached.
Would it be okay… to apologize?
The hostility and anger that rose in the boy’s sky-blue eyes haunted her. The resolve to approach Alan faded and dissipated.
‘My very approach might just bring him unnecessary stress.’
So, it might be better to keep a distance…
“…”
Pathetic, Richelle Howard.
What are you making excuses for? You’re just afraid of being despised by Alan Otis.
Afraid of knowing him, knowing his pain, and facing the mistakes you’ve made directly.
Afraid of all the truths she couldn’t ignore once she’d get close to him.
Richelle bit her lip, clutching the medicine bottle. A sense of self-loathing crawled up her ankles.
Yes, she knew it well. Her dreadful and longstanding cowardice.
But she will not move forward this time, either. She will run away again, probably living under a cloudy sky for the rest of her life.
Running away had always been the easiest path.
No matter how nicely she tries to package it as seeking stability or being a pacifist who hates conflict, the truth does not change.
She was a cowardly deserter.
***
The children were still napping. Richelle quietly stepped down the stairs to the first floor.
The mansion was as silent today as if it were deeply asleep. The usual paths felt eerily strange. Her head spun with the rich scent of roses that wafted from every corner of the mansion.
Richelle tried hard to shake off the encroaching thoughts and diverted her mind elsewhere.
‘I sent living expenses and salary to Anna last week. Did she receive it well?’
If it was properly delivered, maybe a reply would arrive tomorrow. She worried about Anna coping with her mother’s hysteria.
As she reached the second floor…
“Ah, Miss Howard.”
A pleasant, soft voice was heard. Rogéros Walter was coming up the stairs, his face adorned with a gentle smile.
