Welcome to the Rose Mansion - Chapter 85
The maid froze at the sudden, prickly voice that came flying in.
She stared over Richelle’s shoulder, then slowly retreated. Only then did Richelle turn around.
A boy with ash blond hair was standing there, leaning against the wall.
“Why are you bothering with that kind of thing?”
“It seemed like she had something to say. Thank you for your help.”
“Whatever.”
Alan waved his hand dismissively and threw something toward her. It was the ointment container she had brought him five days ago, which she hastily caught.
“I used it well.”
He walked past her as if their business was finished. Richelle stared blankly at his retreating figure before rushing to her bedroom.
“It’s light.”
The ointment container, which had been heavy when she gifted it, was now unusually light. It couldn’t have been used up this much in just five days.
She frantically opened the lid. As expected, the ointment was completely gone. Instead, a small note sat proudly in its place.
Richelle looked around and unfolded the note with her cold hands.
[Tomorrow, 1 AM. Come to my study.]
“…What?”
After midnight, at 1 AM?
But that time is… ‘their’ time.
Though it wasn’t a rejection, it seemed like he had something to tell her.
‘Why that time, of all times?’
Her head throbbed with pain. Should she take the risk and follow Alan’s words, or ignore it and find another way?
She was at a crossroads once again.
***
Tick tock, tick tock.
the second hand of the clock moved with regularity.
It was already well past midnight. There was not much time left until Alan’s appointed time.
Richelle’s fingers drummed nervously on the table. Although she said she was at a crossroads, in reality, she had no other choice.
She had to go see Alan. There was no other way to find clear answers to her current situation.
With a resolute expression, Richelle stood up and draped a shawl over her shoulders. She picked up the oil lamp that was on the table.
It was now 1 AM. According to Bertrand’s rules, it was ‘their’ time. If she went outside now, she would face that nightmare again.
‘Unlike last time, this time I’m going voluntarily.’
With a bitter smile, Richelle fiddled with the handle of the oil lamp. The tension was suffocating.
Taking the risk and accepting Alan’s invitation was all to uncover the truth about her mother’s death. She had resolved to risk her life on the way back to Bertrand.
But that didn’t mean she intended to actually die. So, Richelle prepared minimal protection to shield herself from ‘them.’
That was this seemingly ordinary, old oil lamp.
“…”
Richelle wrinkled her nose and lit the lamp. The red flame flickered warmly. She silently watched the flickering flame.
The rules mentioned finding a light if she left her bedroom.
The exact reason was unknown. However, when she was in a desperate situation, the light Rogéros brought had saved her. It had driven away the darkness and shared its warmth.
This lamp was a gift Rogéros had left that night. Though it might not repel ‘them’ as effectively as Rogéros did, it should help her reach the study safely. She felt certain of that.
Richelle took a deep breath and stood in front of the door. She pressed her ear against it and heard faint murmurs.
‘They seem to be gathering.’
Could she safely pass through them?
A sense of despair washed over her like a winter wind. Richelle quickly shook her head. Worry was too heavy to bear on this dangerous path.
It’s okay. I can do it.
After repeating this several times, her mind calmed down. Richelle pressed her ear against the door again.
“…”
It seemed there were no entities showing interest in her bedroom yet. This was fortunate. If she encountered ‘them’ right after opening the door, it would be quite a huge problem.
She steadied herself and grabbed the doorknob. A map of the mansion unfurled in her mind.
