1. The Beast's Mansion
Episode 1
She woke to the storm rattling the windowpanes. The way the clouds had been drifting in since the afternoon had seemed ominous; apparently, it had been a harbinger of the dense downpour to come.
The ceaseless patter of rain became a deluge in moments. Thunder roared and lightning struck. In a flash, she bolted upright at the lightning piercing through the dark curtains.
She left the bedroom without even time to throw something on over her pajamas. The corridor lined with densely arranged glass windows was all the more chaotic. The fierce wind rattled the latches in unison, letting gusts of air sweep inside. Each time, the hems of the curtains, draped to the floor, billowed out black.
She ran down the stairs past the windows rattling as though they would shatter, and stopped before the door at the very end of the corridor. The household staff were already gathered there. Their number was woefully small for the scale of the mansion.
From beyond the firmly shut door came a groan that grated against the throat. The groan grew deeper with each irregular flash of lightning.
Tension coiled at the unmistakable signs of agony.
“What shall we do? I opened the window this afternoon to let in the fresh air, but it seems I failed to secure it properly.”
Amid anxious murmurs, someone looked for the head butler.
“Where is Lady Serva?”
“I’m afraid the storm has trapped her somewhere. Of all days, she had to be away….”
Everyone stamped their feet anxiously, yet none dared step forward to enter first. Because while one might walk in on two legs, there was no guarantee one would walk out on two.
She passed the hesitant servants and grasped the handle of the firmly shut door. At the creak as the door cracked open, silence fell over them all at once. Yet no one stopped her. After all, someone had to enter and set the room to rights, and in the midst of this, anyone who volunteered was something to be grateful for.
She strode in.
She let go of the hand holding the door.
Thud. The sound of the door closing behind her was heavy.
The room was filled with the scent of rain brought by the deluge. The unlatched window flapped wildly in the wind, and the double-layered curtains surged into the air again and again. Rumble. Thunder crashed and lightning flashed. The pallid light blazed all around before dying down.
The man lay on the bed, both eyes squeezed shut. Though he suppressed his groans, his gritted jaw trembled ceaselessly with pain. It seemed the blanket had happened to slide onto the floor, leaving him with nothing to cover his face.
She first picked up the fallen blanket and draped it over the man’s body. Then she went to the window and fastened the unlatched sash. Even though the latch was somewhat loose, she tied the bottom hem of the curtains firmly to the rings below the wall so they would not flap. The lower curtain rings were a fixture found only in this room.
The rain still roared, but with the light blocked out, the groan that had lingered between the man’s teeth gradually subsided.
Had he not said that even the faintest light felt as though it were pecking at his brain?
The human eye is a vital point regardless of physique, and the human eyelid is far too thin and fragile to protect such a vital point; every bolt of lightning must have been nothing short of torture for the man.
That was why this mansion was surrounded on all sides by black curtains.
The lightning in the pitch-black night was still fierce, but it was not enough to penetrate the double-layered curtains. Even so, there were moments when the shadows within the room grew a little darker.
She slowly approached the man.
“Are you all right now—”
Before she could finish her words.
Suddenly, her vision flipped. Without even time to gasp, she was dragged into the blanket. It was a speed utterly unbelievable for someone blind—like that of a beast.
The thick blanket cut off her vision completely. The faint outlines of shadow vanished, and darkness devoured everything. Whether she opened her eyes or closed them, the color did not change. It was an endless abyss.
Body heat soaked into the blanket, and the unfamiliar scent of another person poured over her all at once. The bitter fragrance of medicinal tea, widely known to be good for headaches and sleep, and the heavy reek of alcohol from strong wine. Mixed among them was the oddly sweet scent of grass.
Medicine and alcohol. An extremely contradictory combination. Moreover, from the man she sensed almost no trace of sleepiness or drunkenness.
Abruptly, a hand groped her body freely as it traveled upward, making her snap to her senses. But by then, the man’s grip had already crossed her two wrists above her head and bound them. It was not just his hands. Her thighs, pinned down by his hard kneecaps, throbbed wretchedly. Every movement was swift. Her limbs were bound. It was a wonder she had not screamed.
Suddenly, hot breath tickled her left cheek. The man’s face was closer than she had expected.
“There are usually two purposes for maids sneaking into their master’s bedroom.”
Even then, he brought his face closer, and a distinct sensation brushed her earlobe. She felt the firm bone structure. A place warm with body heat, yet not as soft as lips. It must have been the tip of his nose.
A spine-chillingly low whisper followed.
“Assassination.”
The man, who had been holding himself up on his limbs like a table with his back straight, slowly lowered his upper body. His hard knees pressed deeply into her thighs and slid downward. The pain was so intense that her breath caught in her throat. By tomorrow, long bruises would surely follow the trajectory.
In the meantime, the man pressed his body completely flush against hers, pinning her down with his weight. The pressure she bore with her entire body was no different from a boulder.
“Or bed.”
Struggling was futile from the start against a man who overwhelmed her in both build and weight.
“Or perhaps both?”
His chest, pressed against hers in time with his breathing, rose and fell rapidly. Because she had rushed out without throwing on an outer garment, the warmth of both bodies was trapped within a single layer of nightwear. The man must have felt the same.
She slowly gathered her breath.
“…If that were my intention, someone who knows how to use a weapon, or a charming woman adept at handling men, would have been sent instead of someone like me who doesn’t even know how to hide her presence.”
Pfft. A scoff sounded.
“What, are you bruised somewhere?”
“…I am hardly charming.”
“What would a blind cripple know even if you put a slab missing an eye, nose, or mouth in front of him? They must have figured a hole to stick it in was all I needed.”
“You are picking a needless fight.”
“A needless fight?”
Coarse force filled the man’s grip as he tightened her wrists at once. Another hand crept in from the side, grasping her cheek before moving past her jaw to seize her throat.
“Do you know who ruined my eyes?”
“….”
“It was a maid just like you.”
Her airway constricted, and she coughed violently.
“Do you know how she ruined them?”
“….”
“She poured poison into my eyes.”
The grip squeezing her throat blocked her windpipe completely.
“She slipped in while I was asleep, dead drunk. And that was the welcome home greeting from my brother upon my return after victory in the war.”
Regardless of her choking, gurgling breaths, the man’s tone remained languid.
“In a single day, I became a pathetic bastard who stumbled and fell every few steps, who couldn’t even lift a spoonful of soup with my own hand.”
“Hhk….”
“But do you think Akenaus was truly relieved just because I became a cripple?”
The man asked, and answered himself.
“Not a chance. I may be blind, but my lower body is perfectly intact. If a cripple like me were to secretly sire a brat with that thing of mine somewhere? That would be a problem, wouldn’t it?”
“Heuk….”
“The very thought must make that cowardly bastard’s skin crawl so much he’d want to cut it off at the root and dry it up.”
“…Urk.”
“Now, speak. What did Akenaus tell you to send you here?”
It was a tone feigning tenderness, uncharacteristically so.
“I…”
“Did he promise you a generous price for your life?”
Her consciousness flickered. Convulsions ran through her limbs as she lost control. Her heartbeat sounded abnormally loud, then vanished, over and over. Her vision had already been pitch-black for some time.
Her strengthless limbs went slack. Sensing the signs of asphyxiation looming before her, the hand gripping her throat loosened slightly.
Air passed through, precariously. She instinctively gasped for breath. Her head spun dizzyingly, and violent coughs erupted hackingly. Tears dropped unconsciously, saliva trickled down. Her nose stung and her ears rang sharply. Though her breath had only just cleared, it felt as if every orifice in her body had burst open at once.
“The window, because of the storm, the window…”
The moment she opened her mouth, she momentarily doubted her hearing. It was a voice she could not believe had come from her own throat. It was filled with a metallic sound like fingernails scraping against an iron plate. Her vocal cords were completely ruined.
Before he could tighten his grip again, she barely managed to answer with her badly damaged voice.
“To close it, *cough*, I came…”
“Why so boring.”
A flat reaction returned. It was impossible to tell what expression he wore from his tone alone. And why only his expression? Thanks to the blanket that had completely blocked her vision, she was now no different from a person with their eyes wide open in the dark.
“I will, prove, …prove it.”
She couldn’t afford to waste even the time coughing. Without any chance to smooth her throat, she simply opened her mouth.
“Prove? Prove what?”
A detached question came back. Not a single thread of warmth could be felt in his voice.
“Somewhere on my body…”
Even spitting out just a few syllables, she coughed hackingly again.
“Whether such a poison is hidden, touch and feel everywhere to search me. If you still find me suspicious after that, then you may dispose of me as you wish.”