Episode 50

"Is there truly no one there?"

"Hey! I don’t know who’s orchestrating this charade, but—"

A sharp voice echoed faintly from beyond the wall.

‘What a formidable voice.’

When I checked earlier, closing the door rendered the room nearly soundproof.

I sighed deeply and massaged my shoulders alternately.

"Did you wake up?"

"Just now."

Ute, who had rushed over without even taking off his white coat, plopped down beside me.

"You worked hard moving the furniture. I wanted to help too..."

"Doctors need to attend to their patients. The head maid helped, so it was fine."

I wasn’t the only one who felt the gravity of the situation with the mansion’s atmosphere in disarray.

'They’ve been married for over a year! How long are they going to keep their mouths shut?'

Her expression, as she pressed her temples and shuddered, was earnest.

'She was the one to inform us about this room.'

Indeed, someone who had devoted their youth to this mansion was different.

Ute glanced at the firmly locked doorknob and remarked.

"I didn’t know there was a place like this in the mansion."

"It's an old mansion."

I truly didn’t wish to know what this rose-colored wallpapered room without windows and a door so heavy that four adults had to push it was used for in the past.

‘Fortunately, we aren’t short on hands.’

If I had to move the furniture out and reapply the wallpaper by myself, it wouldn’t have been done this quickly.

‘I’m busy these days….’

‘You can manage, right?’

‘Actually, really, I’m busy training the new recruits—’

‘Hmm?’

Karen was a great help.

While I was reminiscing, the count's voice boomed.

"A room where you can only speak the truth, what a farce!"

He wasn’t wrong.

‘If you don’t speak, we won’t let you out.’

His thundering anger was palpable, but I wasn’t frightened.

I was more concerned about something else.

"Will they be alright?"

"What?"

"If they’re confined for too long, various issues could arise."

"Neither of them has claustrophobia. Nor irritable bowel syndrome."

Ute gave me a reassuring smile and made eye contact.

"I checked beforehand. They should be fine for half a day."

"You said the sleeping incense was very mild, right?"

"The madam's is. The count's is a bit stronger."

"As long as the madam is alright, that’s all that matters."

Who cares if the master suffers any aftereffects?

I leaned against the wall and set up the listening device Ute had brought.

Its simple structure made it easy to utilize.

"Was it too much to remove the bed?"

"No, it’s good you removed it. Otherwise, they might’ve had a physical conversation."

"..."

"I’ve read many cases where people, told to talk, end up having physical conversations instead."

"Would they really do that after being locked up?"

That’s not just a lack of urgency, but a complete lack of thought.

When I denied it softly, Ute gently added.

"Main characters exceed our imagination."

"Damn it! Is there truly no one?"

"Hmm?"

A voice drenched in fatigue. The sound of clad shoes approached closer and closer.

"What are you both doing here?"

"Is there really no one here? Morpheon! As the aide—"

Brown eyes widened gradually.

The approaching aide glanced back and forth between Ute, the heavy door, and me.

‘Damn it.’

We hadn’t properly explained it to the aide.

Not for any special reason, but because it was much easier not to explain.

‘If he told the count beforehand, it would have been a hassle.’

So we played dumb, but now we were caught.

‘Normally, this person would be holed up in the office.’

Why had he come to this corner of the mansion today?

His hazel eyes stared at us expectantly, demanding an explanation.

"Well, this is part of an adult patience training—"

"We confined them because the master and madam wouldn’t communicate."

...Was it alright to be that honest?

Ute continued brightly without hesitation.

"It’s an issue that would be solved if they just talked openly, but they keep taking it out on the servants."

"Ute, if you put it that way..."

"Isn't this better than suspecting an affair?"

It was hard to read the aide's thoughts through the lenses of his glasses.

His brown hair was carelessly tousled.

"So, what you're saying is the master will be locked up there for a while?"

"Half a day."

"Sweet."

Sweet?

That was an unusually cheerful exclamation for someone who’d just heard their master was confined.

The aide yawned, mouth wide open.

"Well, I'll go get some sleep then."

He turned around and walked away without hesitation.

'Wow, I shouldn’t be the one to say this, but...'

This mansion really operates smoothly.

Anyway, the aide’s indifference was beneficial. We leaned closer to the small receiver between us.

"Where did you learn how to handle a listening device?"

"I used it at my previous job. I was entangled in a love affair."

Got caught and got hit in the head, too.

‘Compared to that, this is pretty nice.’

No sound came from the receiver.

"Did I set it up wrong..."

"They’re probably just not talking."

Ute was right.

It wasn’t until 30 minutes later that the madam's voice crackled through.

—That must be the right phrase. We have to speak the truth...

Finally.

I pulled away my slightly heated cheek and pressed it back again.

—You don’t have to believe what I’m about to say.

A deep breath.

—No, you probably won’t be able to. But that’s okay. Actually, I… actually…

—Actually?

—I know the future. To be precise, I died and came back to life.

The madam's story, which Ute had only guessed at, was vividly conveyed.

As she continued explaining, the count remained silent.

—I was scared. I was afraid that if I went outside, it would truly be the end.

—...

—Everything was the same. The maids played pranks on my food, and you didn’t care about me.

—That’s...

—But things changed. The maids changed, I met Sonnet... Oh, Sonnet was the child who stayed by my side when I died. Thanks to her, I could endure a bit.

‘So that’s what happened.’

I recalled the intense welcome from our first meeting.

Receiving kindness for something I hadn’t done felt awkward.

My neck itched without reason.

‘Is there any need to listen to all this?’

I was about to maintain a polite distance when I noticed Ute's profile, unusually serious.

Meanwhile, the madam's explanation was reaching its peak.

—Once I found a way to survive, I planned to leave the mansion.

—So that’s why you kept...

—I thought it was too grand a position for me.

—Too grand? If not for my wife, it’s a useless position.

—I didn’t want to be a burden to you. So, that’s why... But you were too kind...

I had thought this before, but the madam needed to raise her standards for ‘kindness.’

—Then what’s with the blue ribbon?

—How do you...

The madam calmly explained without accusing him of conducting illegal background checks.

—It is an informant. I asked that person to find a reliable doctor.

—Is that all?

—I also asked for a new identity...

—I see. So that’s what it was.

—Do you believe me?

—Why not when it is you who said it.

—...

—Thank you for becoming my wife in this second life too.

—Count...

‘Is it over?’

I was about to open the door when a small sob distracted me. Right next to me.

"Ute?"

"No, it's nothing."

It was definitely not nothing.

His soft eyes and nose were peculiarly red, like someone who had already shed a few tears.

‘What do I do?’

When someone close to me cries, I always panic. Especially if it’s someone I like.

I flailed my hands in the air before pulling his silver head closer.

Just like my mother did when I was little.

‘Is this the right way...?’

His silky bangs felt distinct against my shoulder.

‘How long do I have to stay like this?’

Just as my heart pounded so loudly I could hear it, his smooth forehead pulled away.

“...Having friends is really nice.”

“Ah, yes. Well, it is...”

I felt nauseous.

Just as I was contemplating ditching the eavesdropping and running away, the receiver buzzed again.

—So you don’t hate me?

—I’ve never hated you.

—I will not let you die, no matter what.

Sshk.

—I won’t leave you alone.

The rustling of clothes echoed.

And then...

—Wait, mmm...!

‘No, please, no.’

Ute and I exchanged glances reflexively.

His eyes, which had been reddish moments ago, were now irritably crinkled.

From the receiver, the sound of tongues greeting and passionately debating was painfully clear.

—Wait, Count...

—Call me by my name.

—Carl, Carlyle...

Ah,

Really,

“I want to go home...”

“I want to go home...”

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