🔊 TTS Settings
Chapter 3
The cat rubbed its face against Julian’s leg.
“Leo.”
At Leo’s appearance, the stiffness in Julian’s face eased a little.
When Julian crouched down, Leo leapt gracefully onto his shoulder.
Seeing Julian’s softened expression, Croix let out a small sigh of relief.
But when Julian heard that faint exhale, his brows knitted again.
“What are you doing here?”
“P–pardon?”
“Didn’t you hear me? I said by tomorrow. Even if you start now, you’ll barely have enough time.”
Leo hissed at Croix.
Two pairs of golden eyes glared at him with sharp intensity.
It felt as though he had come face-to-face with a starving lion; goosebumps broke out all over Croix’s body. He wanted to cry.
“I–I’ll go right away!”
So much for hoping to get off work early today.
Sniffling a little, Croix quickly scurried away.
“You never move unless I spell things out for you.”
Julian shook his head at the empty spot where Croix had been.
Leo let out a tiny sigh and hopped lightly down to the ground.
Julian then heard Leo’s voice echo inside his head.
‘Who is that woman, that you care so much?’
“I don’t care. It’s just… when I see her, someone else comes to mind, and it puts me in a foul mood.”
Julian dropped heavily onto the white sand. On the desolate shore, only the quiet sound of waves reached his ears.
‘Who? The Duchess of Johannes?’
“You catch on like a ghost.”
Julian let out a rough laugh.
In truth, he rarely had the chance to meet Rebecca, since he disliked social gatherings.
But even the few times they had crossed paths, Rebecca had left a strong impression on him.
Like Julian, she only made brief appearances at grand banquets.
Word was that Zeppelin kept her on a very tight leash.
Rebecca was always dressed beautifully and splendidly, but there was no life in her.
Even when she chattered with noble ladies, she only repeated mechanical replies.
People claimed she was the most beautiful woman in the Empire, but Julian couldn’t agree.
She looked like a corpse. And every time he saw her, he was reminded of his mother—
A soul dried up like brittle twigs.
‘But what was that look in her eyes just now?’
The Rebecca he saw in the carriage had seemed like a completely different person.
She had been furious. He had thought she was a woman without emotions, but she surprised him.
Her blazing eyes. The memory of that look still lingered in Julian’s vision, following him around.
For that moment, he hadn’t been able to look away.
‘Could it be you’ve fallen for her?’
Leo looked up at him with amused curiosity.
“What the… You! I told you not to peek into my head without permission.”
‘I didn’t want to hear it either, you know. You leaked it yourself.’
At that, Julian gave a bitter laugh.
He reached over and stroked Leo, who rested his chin indifferently on his paw.
Leo purred, pleased.
A beloved being, and at the same time a detested one. A blessing, and at the same time a curse.
That was what Leo was to him.
The burden on his shoulders felt especially heavy today.
He was never truly alone, and yet he was always alone.
Morning came again.
Because Zeppelin and Alicia had left for their honeymoon, the vast Devonshire estate now belonged solely to Rebecca.
It should have been a rare moment of peace, yet Rebecca couldn’t savor her freedom.
Zeppelin’s attendants—nicknamed his hunting dogs—secretly kept watch over her from all sides.
“Since the Count isn’t here today, why don’t you have a little more?”
Alice set another plate of dessert before her.
Rebecca glanced at the cake topped with dainty strawberries.
Her appetite stirred, but she shook her head.
If she ate more, she had no idea what criticism might come her way. For now, she needed to act as usual.
Rebecca tried to recall what she had done around this time of day.
“It’s fine. Let’s just take a walk.”
She left the dining room.
Even without its master, the mansion felt unchanged, as if his absence left no void.
That wasn’t thanks to Rebecca performing her duties as mistress well.
Rather, it was because the capable housekeeper and butler worked tirelessly to prevent Zeppelin from finding fault upon his return.
Though she was the Countess, it was in name only—an empty shell.
Rebecca knew nothing about household management.
Even the budget, which any mistress would normally oversee, was kept strictly out of her hands.
‘You just sit there like a rose in bloom. I’ll handle all the complicated matters.’
She wasn’t free to go out either. Her daily life consisted of embroidery or playing piano inside the mansion.
On days she grew tired of that, she would simply wander aimlessly around the garden.
She could, at times, invite nearby ladies for tea, but somehow no one seemed pleased to accept her invitations.
Sometimes, invitations to social events would arrive for her as well.
But Zeppelin forbade her to attend unless absolutely necessary.
His excuse: he feared the “pure” Rebecca might be corrupted by shallow socialites.
“A doll…”
Rebecca recalled what Zeppelin had said to her before her death.
A perfect doll.
He had been right. The Count’s manor was a giant dollhouse, and she was nothing more than the beautiful doll displayed within.
A pitiful doll that could be discarded at any time.
Lost in thought, Rebecca wandered the garden until she stopped in front of a glass-domed exhibition hall.
It was called the Hall of Light.
The glass dome was covered with black cloth to block sunlight.
It was only uncovered when guests arrived.
The Devonshire family had long been famous for their deep artistic inclinations.
Over generations, they had acquired an immense collection of priceless works of art.
In particular, Zeppelin had collected more than any Devonshire count before him.
His obsession was such that he even built a climate-controlled building solely for preservation.
Rebecca imagined smashing the Hall of Light to pieces.
She pictured Zeppelin in despair. A smile crept onto her lips.
But soon she shook her head bitterly.
The Hall of Light was guarded tightly. Even now, knights in gleaming armor stood vigil at the entrance.
Some of them spotted Rebecca and bowed politely.
She inclined her head in return and turned away.
For now, she had no power at all.
Had her family been stronger, she would have divorced him long ago.
But her natal home, a mere viscount’s household, had gone bankrupt after her marriage.
Even before her regression, her family had barely survived by clinging to the Devonshires.
“The sun is unusually strong today. Be careful not to burn your skin.”
Alice draped a shawl over her shoulders and held up a parasol to shield her from the sun.
“Alice, won’t your arm ache if you hold it too long? Why don’t we just go inside instead?”
“No, it’s fine. I can endure this much for you, Madam. Besides, it must be suffocating for you. A walk like this helps, doesn’t it?”
Rebecca recalled the day, in her previous life, when Alicia gave birth to her second child.
To cheer her up, Alice had taken her to a village festival.
It had been the happiest day she’d had in a long time—but the cost was brutal.
When Zeppelin learned of the unauthorized outing, he beat Alice nearly to death.
Rebecca could still see, in her mind’s eye, Alice bleeding out before her.
It felt like a debt she could never repay.
“If you have a wish, tell me anything, Alice. If it’s within my power, I’ll grant it.”
“My wish is to spend peaceful days like this with you, Madam.”
“Don’t lie—tell me the truth. Is it jewels you want? Or a raise in wages?”
“Madam.”
Alice set down the parasol for a moment and clasped Rebecca’s hands.
“I really want nothing else. I just want to remain forever by your side.”
Touched by her smile, Rebecca smiled back.
She was grateful that fate had returned her to a time when Alice was still alive.
In this desolate mansion, Alice was the only person she could trust.
“Yes. Thank you. Truly, only you, Alice. Then let’s walk a little more before heading inside.”
Alice nodded warmly.
Her smile was the only warmth in Devonshire—a place colder than ice, even under spring sunlight.
Back in the mansion, Rebecca slowly climbed the stairs to her second-floor room.
She lifted her gaze to the third floor, where Zeppelin’s bedroom and study were located.
Most couples shared a bedroom, but not Zeppelin and Rebecca.
Whenever their nights ended, he always returned to his own room to sleep alone.
He feared her sleeping habits might scratch his face.
Besides, he wanted everything beneath his feet.
Starting each day on the top floor, looking down on everyone—that was Zeppelin.
No one was permitted to enter his domain uninvited.
That included Rebecca herself.
Her eyes lingered on the study.
Zeppelin disliked her gaining knowledge.
All the books were in his study, so without special permission, she couldn’t read.
‘Everything about the Devonshires must be in there.’
Whenever he left the house, he always locked the study tightly.
The strict prohibition on entry convinced Rebecca there was a great secret hidden inside.
She stared at the study door.
‘If I search, I’ll surely find something.’
Taking advantage of Alice’s absence, Rebecca quietly moved toward the third-floor stairs.
“This floor is off-limits, Madam.”
There had been no one a moment ago, but suddenly a burly servant blocked her way.
“I know. I just took a wrong turn.”
Rebecca reluctantly turned back.
Alice, who had been carrying up an afternoon dress, witnessed it silently. Narrowing her eyes, she fell into thought.
“Madam, do you want to go into the study?”
“What?”
Rebecca flinched, setting down her embroidery.
“I saw you heading toward the stairs earlier. Shall I help you?”
Rebecca was struck by Alice’s bright green eyes. A memory resurfaced—
‘No one will notice if we just stop by the festival for a little while! Let’s go, Madam!’
She couldn’t let Alice put herself at risk again.
Rebecca shook her head.
“No. It’s too dangerous.”
“But the Count won’t return for a week. Now is the only time—the guards are more relaxed.”
Alice wasn’t wrong. Who knew when another chance like this would come?
Still, it was a gamble.
As Rebecca hesitated, Alice whispered quickly:
“Listen. Right now, there’s only Hans guarding the third floor. Luckily, I know him well. I’ll lure him down to the kitchen. While he’s gone, you go up.”
“But Alice…”
“It’s really fine! You just want to read, don’t you? Until the Count comes back, you’ll be so lonely—having books will help.”
Pressed by Alice’s persistence, Rebecca reluctantly nodded.
Her heart pounded, just like the day she had fled the Devonshire estate.
