Welcome to the Rose Mansion - Chapter 9
“You must be new to the Black Forest.”
The coachman’s eyes, popping and shimmering, evoked an odd sense of unease. As she hesitated on how to respond, the man lowered his voice significantly.
“Remember, you must not make any noise until we’re out of the Black Forest. And if possible, breathe lightly!”
“What? Why is that?”
“You’ll understand once we’re inside. Once you see.”
Before she could ask for more details, the carriage started moving again. Though puzzled, Richelle complied with the advice and kept her mouth shut.
The carriage slowly sank into the darkness of the forest. The afternoon sun seemed to halt at the entrance as if frightened.
It was at that moment, fully entering the forest, that Richelle felt a bizarre sensation crawling up her spine.
This forest.
Something’s… off.
A wind blew as if it came from the river of the dead, a chilling breeze that clutched Richelle’s spine and burrowed into her heart.
Looking out the window for some warmth, she saw only black trees.
Trees that looked as if they would crumble at any moment, with long, emaciated trunks and branches like blood-drained arms, blackened as if struck by lightning.
These trees encased the area like a fortress. The dense canopy blocked out the sky, bringing an untimely night to the forest. It was clear why this place was called the ‘Black Forest’.
However, what really alarmed Richelle wasn’t the chilling wind, the black trees, or the absence of sunlight in the darkness.
It was the sensation… the feeling that made her unconsciously shrink her shoulders.
The sensation of being watched.
From between the trees on the left, no, or the right. Perhaps from beside them, or even from above.
Possibly from every part of the forest…
She felt eyes on her.
Clearly focusing on her.
Sweat trickled down her jawline. Richelle couldn’t bring herself to look up until the carriage had completely exited the forest.
She feared that looking out the window would be like looking under the bed in the dead of night, certain to confront something dangerous.
“You’re safe now, Miss!”
It was only when the sticky, cobweb-like chill finally released her hair that the coachman’s cheerful voice reached her.
Richelle lifted her head. The missed sunlight was seeping through the cracks of the carriage window.
“What was that forest?”
She asked urgently, supporting herself against the wall that separated her from the coachman’s seat. Despite her intentions, her voice trembled slightly.
“Well, I don’t really know. My grandmother used to say it’s a forest where demons dwell. But I don’t believe it, of course!”
The coachman laughed heartily. Richelle found it unbelievable that he could laugh so casually after passing through that dangerous forest.
As if reading Richelle’s mind, the coachman soothingly added,
“It’s always a bit unsettling to pass through, but as long as you follow a few rules, there’s no problem at all.”
“Rules such as?”
“Simple. First, do not enter the forest after sunset. Second, do not make any noise in the forest. Third, only walk on the designated paths. Remember these three things, for they will not take you away.”
The way he rhythmically laid out the story was almost like reciting a poem. The coachman whistled a tune and then cheerfully announced,
“Here we are. That’s the Bertrand Mansion right there.”
Richelle turned her head at his words. In the distance, atop a hill, sat the grand, white Bertrand Mansion, imposingly overlooking their arrival.
***
The carriage smoothly glided past the mansion’s main gate.
‘To think they’d open the main gate, not the back, for a servant.’
She recalled that even the inn had referred to her as a ‘guest of the Bertrand Mansion.’
Before passing through the main gate, Richelle, who had been sitting composedly, couldn’t resist her curiosity and pressed her face against the carriage window. Her eyes widened in awe.
“My goodness…!”
Everywhere was bathed in red.
Unconsciously, she leaned out the window. The expansive garden surrounding the white stone building was filled with bright red roses. The rich scent of roses wafted into the carriage.
How could there be so many roses in early spring?
She raised her eyes to take in the mansion’s sight. It was already impressive from afar, but up close, the mansion was beyond imagination.
