# 17
17. The Viscount's Strange Guest (7)
After that, it was practice, and more practice. Vincent, who had initially acted as if terrified, gained confidence at some point and began striding forward. It seemed as though he now knew what was around him from walking continuously.
However, walking alone was still not easy. Rendering his first success meaningless, he failed to reach the door on his own after that. He kept falling in the middle.
The problem was that he lost his confidence whenever he fell. There were times he shrank back in sheer terror, and times he stayed motionless for a long while with his hands planted on the floor.
Where could those fear-stained eyes be fixed? Terrified, he crawled across the floor onto the bed and pulled the sheets over himself. As if trying to hide himself.
"……Someone is here."
"It's just you and me here, Master."
"Don't lie. Every time that happened, someone was there. They tried to kill me."
The past had left him with deep wounds. Only then did I seem to understand why he had holed up in his room. He wasn't afraid of walking. He was afraid of going outside the room. The fear that someone might pounce to kill him the moment he stepped out consumed him every single moment. His repeated action of hiding his body by pulling the sheets over himself—wasn't that his way of protecting himself?
"Master, how about thinking of it this way? Right now, you are on an adventure. Through a pitch-black darkness. You don't know what lies ahead, or what will appear. That's why it's truly terrifying, but if you stay still, you'll have to remain in that darkness forever."
"……."
"Adventuring inherently requires courage. Now is the time to muster that courage. Don't worry. By your side, Master, there is a voice that only you can hear. That voice can be your adventuring comrade, your friend, your family—it can be anything. You are not alone; it simply cannot be seen."
"If it kills me……"
"Please trust me. That will absolutely never happen. That's why I exist."
I held his trembling hand in mine. I embraced his huddled body. I wanted to help him find courage.
"You don't seem very trustworthy, though……"
If only he didn't make such cheeky remarks.
Fortunately, Vincent soon regained his stability. He gained quite a bit of confidence in walking alone, too. Now, he reaches the door without falling in the middle. Though he walked awkwardly, waving his hands in the air, his refusal to give up was commendable.
"Just watch quietly from back there."
"Just don't fall."
And I gently patted his back as if to soothe him.
"We're done."
I untied the cloth draped around him and gathered the cut hair in one place. Vincent stroked his shortened hair. It was just a light trim, but it didn't look bad. Neat, even? Of course, it would have been better to call a professional barber to style it properly, but given his condition, that was difficult, so I took the liberty of doing it myself.
"Did you really have to go this far?"
"It looks nice because it's neat."
Seeing him with his hair cut made it even more apparent. His appearance was definitely striking. He must have been very popular with women. It was worth the effort of fixing him up.
"Bring me some clothes."
"Ah, if it's sleepwear, here."
"Going-out clothes."
It was a sudden remark. However, he didn't take it back. I opened a different dresser for the first time since entering this room. Shirt, vest, coat, trousers, tie, shoes…… Where were the shoes?
Rummaging through the room, I gathered the clothes and held them out to him. Vincent took off his sleepwear and put on the clothes one by one.
Fully dressed, he was the very image of Viscount Vincent Bellunita. A true noble. The atmosphere changed completely just from the change in attire. He's a bit thin, but quite impressive, isn't he?
"A cane."
I was staring blankly when he held out his hand. A cane? Coming back to my senses, I looked around the room again, found a cane, and handed it to him. He stood quietly, gripping it in his hand. He probably intended to rely on the cane to walk. Anyway, he was ready.
I came outside and closed the door. A moment later, Ethan approached.
"Where's Vincent?"
"He is waiting inside."
"Did you practice a lot?"
Ethan narrowed his eyes mischievously. He seemed to know what kind of practice Vincent and I had done. What an annoying person.
"The weather is nice. It would be perfect for going out."
"It is."
"Buds are sprouting on the branches."
"Pardon?"
When I asked back in bewilderment, he only smiled. The smile I'd seen enough of to be sick of oddly caught my eye. No, it felt like something important was coming to mind.
Meanwhile, Ethan stood in front of the door. But he couldn't easily pull the doorknob. I could see the tension on his side profile. I could also glimpse the complicated feelings within him. I waited until he opened the door.
"I'm worried. I'm afraid nothing has changed."
"You should check for yourself."
"I should."
Having made up his mind, he threw the door open. The determination on his face gradually gave way to surprise. Watching his reaction, I also looked inside the room.
As planned, Vincent was standing in the middle of the room. He was leaning with his cane planted on the floor.
Ethan blinked.
"Vincent?"
At Ethan's call, Vincent raised his head. His face was stiff. He looked fine on the outside, but to my eyes, I could see the tension he was hiding within.
Vincent, holding the cane in his hand, began walking this way.
We had practiced countless times. I had even helped him turn his body toward the door before leaving the room. So, all he had to do was walk. I was worried he might get tense and fall, but fortunately, Vincent strode forward.
Vincent soon reached the door. And finally, he stepped out of the room. Ethan, who had been watching the scene without even blinking, spread his arms in elation.
"Vincent!"
A voice shouting as if on the verge of tears could be heard.
It was the moment I thought it was an unexpectedly intense reaction. Vincent suddenly raised his hand. He was holding the cane in that hand. Taking one more step forward, Vincent swung the cane in his hand at Ethan.
It happened in an instant.
Ethan ducked in fright, and I stared with wide eyes in shock. The cane, having lost its target, swung through the air and struck the hallway window.
Crash! The sound of shattering glass rang out. I checked the window in dismay. The window glass where the cane struck was completely shattered into pieces. Glass fragments trickled down. Over that chilling scene, a sinister voice flowed out.
"Try that threatening crap one more time and you're dead."
Vincent's gaze was facing forward, but it was essentially directed at Ethan, who was cowering beneath him. Ethan slowly lowered the arms that had been covering his face and looked up at him.
"……I'm your friend."
"Is that why you threatened me?"
"……."
Caught off guard, Ethan clamped his mouth shut. Vincent released his hand from the cane's handle and turned his body around. Only then did Ethan stand up and look at the shattered window. Ethan, who had been blankly dazed for a moment, soon came to his senses and chased after Vincent, but Vincent spun around.
"Get out right now."
With those final words, the door slammed shut! I was dumbfounded by Vincent's action of personally closing the door and kicking Ethan out.
Ethan quietly stared at the closed door.
"He must have been really angry."
"Naturally."
I pulled the cane out of the window. No, did he ask for the cane with this in mind? As I was wondering what to do with the broken shards, laughter came from somewhere. Looking at the source of the sound, Ethan was grinning. He's finally lost his mind.
"Yeah. That's Vincent, alright."
He definitely lost his mind.
I shook my head at the sight of him smiling with a twitching lip. With a bright expression, Ethan knocked twice on the closed door.
"Vincent, I'm coming in?"
Once again, no answer came back, but Ethan threw the door open. Vincent was standing at a distance not too far from the door, with an expression that asked why he hadn't left.
"Don't look at me like that. I have something to give you."
Ethan took something out of his coat's inner pocket and held it out to Vincent. It was a letter. And he placed it in Vincent's hand.
"It's a letter from Violet."
Violet! At the mention of the familiar name, my gaze shifted to the letter in Vincent's hand. He also looked down at the letter placed in his hand.
"You said you don't even reply to Violet's letters. She's so worried. She was insisting on coming to see you, and I barely managed to dissuade her by promising to deliver a letter for her."
"How is she doing?"
"She's doing well. She's healthy."
"That's a relief."
Vincent didn't open the envelope. He merely held it in his hand and turned around. Just from a bit of practice, he already found his way to the bed and sat down easily. Ethan chased after Vincent's back.
"I promised I'd definitely get a reply, so please write one."
"No."
"I can't give up either. Ah, Miss Maid. Could I get some paper and a pen, please?"
Ethan said, looking back at me. I glanced at Vincent, who was scowling. I was curious about who the owner of the name Violet was, but seeing Vincent's displeased face, I couldn't bring myself to ask. In the end, I bowed and left the room.
That day, Ethan eventually managed to get a reply to the letter.
Late at night, I couldn't sleep. I came out of my room to get some fresh air. However, a light approached from the end of the hallway. It was Ethan, holding a lamp.
"Why aren't you sleeping?"
"What about you, Lord Christopher? What brings you here?"
"I couldn't sleep, so I was taking a walk."
"I couldn't sleep either."
I thought about going outside to the annex, but it became too much of a bother. Instead, I placed the lamp I was holding on the windowsill and opened the window. As the cool breeze blew in, the light flickered. I was staring blankly at it when Ethan came to my side and stood next to me.
"You're mad at me."
"Me?"
"I gave you advice, but I ignored it."
He knew that and still did what he did? Well, even so, it wasn't something he needed to apologize for. It was only natural for a superior to not heed the words of a subordinate.
"You don't have to apologize. It's fine."
When I answered so, Ethan scratched the back of his neck.
"I'm a bad guy, aren't I?"
"I can't deny it."
At that, Ethan laughed. I laughed along.
The brief laughter soon cut off. Silence lingered in the hallway. I shrank back at the eerie atmosphere.