Working at a Haunted Mansion Chapter 111

The Julius of night was a man wholly different from the Julius of day. It was as though his suppressed hatred and inferiority had been transformed into suspicion and rage against her.

Themis tried again and again to put an end to those nights, but nothing worked.

Even when she avoided appearing at events Aiden Kashimir attended, she was accused of being disappointed not to see him…

Recalling that night, Themis felt whatever faint hope she had been holding vanish like the ebbing tide. She staggered, unable to keep her balance.

“It’s no use.”

Themis shook off the hand of Lily Dienta, who was supporting her.

“He will never let me go. Such a thing is impossible.”

Dienta’s eyes widened, her face showing she had no idea what Themis meant.

“Perhaps I spoke too indirectly in front of someone so exalted. Please forgive the vulgarity of my tongue, Your Majesty, but listen.”

After this grand preface, Dienta fell silent for a moment. Themis, almost against her will, leaned closer.

“His Majesty is already a dead man.”

It was such a preposterous expression that she could hardly believe her ears. Even so, she could not resist as Dienta guided her back to a chair.

“If we can only dispel the curse, His Majesty will go at once to where he belongs. No matter how unwilling he is to release Your Majesty, what can he do? He has been summoned by the Lord Himself.”

What kind of woman is this? Themis wondered. This incomprehensible cheer, this shameless manner—what was it?

Even if she now looked disheveled, Themis was still the highest-born lady in the Empire. And yet the woman dared speak such words to her?

Speech nearly comparable to lèse-majesté. And yet, strangely, Themis did not feel offended…

Dienta seated her and went on chattering such outlandish things.

“Still, I do understand why Your Majesty feels as you do. That was our mistake. Because we heard of how close the two of you were, we thought His Majesty would be pleased to be brought into your presence from time to time. If I had realized that…”

She halted awkwardly, then resumed.

“…If I had realized there were personal circumstances, I would never have done such a thing. Forgive me.”

Her words were so blunt as to be difficult to follow. Themis forced herself to piece them together.

“You brought him? His Majesty did not come of his own accord? At first perhaps he needed to be guided, but after that…”

“Ah! That is one of the many curses upon him. His Majesty’s movements are restricted—he cannot leave a set place without assistance.”

Then, with no hesitation, Dienta continued,

“As the final moment draws near, it would be good for His Majesty to quiet his spirit. To present a favorable impression before the Lord, it is better to purify the soul with serenity and peace than to be consumed by turmoil.”

Keeping Julius from coming here was a most tempting offer.

And it was for the sake of his soul, no less. She would not be rejecting her husband merely for her own comfort…

Themis stammered,

“Th-that would be best.”

“A wise decision,” Dienta said, bowing deeply. Then she immediately raised her head and asked,

“Then Your Majesty accepts it all?”

Her face was without a trace of worry. Themis wondered what gave her such certainty, such positivity.

Even now, Themis could hear a whisper in her mind: escaping Julius was impossible. A whisper deep-rooted and ancient.

After enduring so many of Julius’s suspicious “tests,” she could not help but doubt everything, everywhere.

Even when she was sent down to the villa, she could not feel at ease.

And sure enough, before long the supplies were cut off. Julius, maddened by jealousy, had surely decided at last to kill her and her son.

She had not expected starvation to be the chosen method, but she was not much surprised.

Often, she had sensed she would one day feel his hands at her throat, or her skull shattered by him.

Fear coiled up her legs.

But why am I alive? Alive, and in Duke Kashimir’s mansion?

She wanted to deny the duke’s words that Julius’s soul was present here. Yet what reason would the duke have to invent such nonsense?

If Julius might truly be watching her, then to avoid provoking his wrath she had acted with compulsion: refusing all conversation, letting herself look filthy so as not to be accused of pretense, sitting immobile so as not to seem content.

At any time, unseen eyes might be upon her. She could never lower her guard.

Why, truly, had she come to the duke? For years she had not even spoken Aiden Kashimir’s name.

If not for this place, Julius could not have seen her, nor could she have lived in constant terror of his gaze.

And yet she had sought the duke’s aid of her own will. She had thought only he could save her.

But why did I ever believe that?

With dull effort, she tried to recall how she had ended up here.

She had endured all Julius’s violence and cruelty, suffered through those defiling nights… yet she could not accept death.

For there was something she must protect.

Ah—Otto.

Themis started and looked at the empty cradle. For so long buried in fear, she had forgotten her son.

Now she remembered clearly: she had sought Aiden Kashimir’s aid to save her child—the very one her husband loathed.

“Shall I bring the Crown Prince?”

The quick-witted woman asked. Themis shook her head. Dienta, guessing the reason, kindly added,

“He will not cry here anymore. Before, with his soul still so pure, he was tormented by His Majesty’s presence. But here, it is clean, so he will be at peace—ah, Your Majesty? Your tears—oh, what do I do!”

Flustered, Dienta spun around as if to run for help. Themis caught her just in time.

“That’s all it takes? If we do as you say… then His Majesty will never again…”

“Of course! If we do this, that man will never harm anyone again. I give you Duke Aiden Kashimir’s word as guarantee. With Your Majesty’s agreement, the last piece is in place!”

With sly confidence, Dienta took Themis’s consent as certain, pulling out a handkerchief to wipe her tears.

“Oh, and of course, by ‘that man’ I mean the wicked cult master. As a loyal subject of the Empire, I revere the august Imperial Family with all my heart—you know that, don’t you?”

She winked playfully.

“Just a little longer, and everyone—His Majesty’s soul, Your Majesty, the Crown Prince, Duke Kashimir, myself, my grandmother, well… everyone will be free and happy.”

Yet though Dienta’s handkerchief dabbed at her face, Themis’s tears only flowed more.

 

 

 

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Though she had loudly proclaimed to the Empress that she guaranteed it in the name of Aiden Kashimir, and that the final pieces were gathered, half of it was exaggeration.

For the most crucial person to make the plan succeed—the one told to the Empress—was missing: Saul Oetz.

Even as evening slid into night, there was still no word from Saul Oetz.

Because of that, Julia’s expression grew darker by the minute. She seemed even to be weighed down with guilt.

Perhaps it was time to prepare herself. At dawn tomorrow, according to the original plan, the cult master would be summoned and slain.

Once that happened, Saul Oetz would have no choice but to cooperate.

No—perhaps not. If he, too, were branded a heretic, he might only deny it all the more desperately.

Normally, it would have been time to retire to bed. But sleep was impossible.

She was considering whether to seek out Wolfram when a visitor arrived.

“Advisor! Word at last?”

Lily rushed to him and asked.

“Count Oetz himself has come.”

A sharp intake of breath was heard from behind. Wolfram turned his eyes toward Julia.

“However, the Count has come seeking Lady Dienta. Not as someone connected to House Kashimir.”

Lily looked back at Julia. She was wide-eyed, frozen stiff.

“His Excellency instructed me to confirm the lady’s wishes first. What is your decision?”

It was a question with almost no choice in it.

Pressing her palm hard against her chest, Julia forced herself to speak.

“I will go.”

Her voice was rough and cracked with tension.