Working at a Haunted Mansion Chapter 23

On the way back, the Emperor nearly stumbled several times over nothing. Beside him, the ghost never stopped murmuring, demanding its body back.

Aside from that, they reached the East Wing without much incident.

The chief attendant, along with several knights, was waiting outside. As soon as he recognized the Emperor, he quickly approached from a distance.

Lily stepped aside and bowed her head.

“Your Majesty, we were worried. Please, next time, be sure to take your escort with you.”

Instead of answering the chief attendant, the Emperor pulled something from his robe and held it out to Lily.

She accepted the object pushed under her nose. It was a bundle of handkerchiefs.

“Th-thank you, Your Majesty.”

She stammered, still keeping her head down.

Then, the Emperor whispered in her ear.

“Send it to the Duke. The gratitude…”

Her body flinched. Every instinct honed from a life of servitude screamed that this was mockery, dripping with sneering contempt.

Rather than cooling off during the walk back, his foul mood had only grown heavier.

Lily looked down at her palm.

‘Don’t tell me… he blew his nose in this?’

The Emperor’s tone had been just like the snide noble ladies from society novels, playing mean tricks. It made the suspicion all the more believable.

The Emperor then entered the building with the chief attendant and his guards. Under the gaze of the knights standing guard, Lily set down her lantern and carefully unfolded the handkerchief.

What she found made her eyes almost pop out of her head.

Inside was a magnificent diamond ring.

Her hands trembled so badly that even the ring vibrated atop the cloth.

It was a man’s ring, a platinum band set with a large diamond in the center, surrounded by smaller diamonds in an elaborate design.

Lily stared blankly at the dazzling way the firelight at the entrance scattered inside the gems. It was an otherworldly glow…

Following a hunch, she turned the ring to look inside. There, engraved in neat script, was the royal surname: Sheiwartz.

Lily practically leapt to her feet and rushed to the door. The knight who had been watching her the whole time stepped in her way.

“No unauthorized persons may enter.”

“I-I must see His Majesty!”

The knight looked at her like she had lost her mind. Even Lily knew how absurd she sounded—but she was desperate.

“His Majesty must have given this to me by mistake! I just want to return it!”

When she carefully showed the ring, making sure it didn’t fall, the knight replied,

“I saw His Majesty personally bestow it to you. Please return.”

“It’s far too great a gift! I can’t accept it! If I keep this, I’ll probably die an early death! If I can’t see His Majesty, then at least let me speak to the chief attendant! Please, I beg you, at least pass on a message!”

Lily had absolutely no desire to keep a royal treasure.

If she had been a noble lady, she might have gladly accepted it. But for a mere maid, it was nothing but trouble.

She couldn’t sell it—being a royal gift—and she certainly couldn’t wear it. It would be the perfect example of “a pearl on a pig’s hoof.”

Besides drawing unwanted attention and envy, it would invite thieves, too.

But more than anything—

Lily simply didn’t want to receive anything from the fake Emperor. It made her skin crawl rather than making her happy.

“The chief attendant is not someone you can summon at will. Stop causing a scene and gratefully accept His Majesty’s kindness.”

“…Understood.”

Lily had no choice but to turn away.

Her footsteps toward the dormitory were heavy. Why had he given her the ring? As a reward for leading the way?

He gave off the impression of someone who casually tossed around gold, but still, this was over the top. And remembering the mocking tone when he handed it over only deepened her suspicion.

Anyway, the ring was definitely unsettling.

‘Wait, no. This isn’t just my imagination. There’s something seriously wrong with this!’

Lily loosened her clenched fist, which had been holding the ring so tightly.

The ring continued to glow mysteriously. Even though she had moved away from the torchlight and the lantern’s glow, it shimmered with a bluish and dark crimson radiance, as if someone had sprinkled fairy dust over it…

[MY RING.]

“Eeek!”

The sudden whisper made Lily reflexively throw the ring. Her heart felt like it had been crushed by fear.

The ring bounced off the paving stones and landed in the bushes. At some point, the Emperor’s ghost had followed her and now stood over it, silently gazing down.

Lily’s eyes grew even wider.

‘I-I have to run.’

She tried to move her legs—but they were frozen in place, refusing to obey.

The ghost turned its head. And because Lily had been looking right at him, their gazes locked before she could dodge.

The ghost held her gaze relentlessly and slowly began to move closer.

‘This… this feels familiar!’

At a glance, the ghost looked terrible. Its pupils were unfocused, and its mask-like expression was chillingly ominous.

When the ghost’s lips started to move—

‘I—I can’t handle this. This is too much!’

Tears welling in her eyes, Lily summoned every ounce of strength she had left and sprinted back toward the maid quarters.

 

 

 

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By the time the Emperor finished his first meal after waking, it was already close to noon.

Only then was Wolfram, who had been waiting at the East Wing, allowed an audience with the Emperor. Even after he finished his greeting, the Emperor made Wolfram remain kneeling as he spoke.

“There is something I seek.”

Wolfram’s eyes, cast downward, gleamed sharply. He recalled the information Lily Dienta had delivered the day before.

An unknown spirit had driven out the Emperor’s soul and taken over his body. The suspected culprit was likely the leader of the Solmon cult…

Remembering that, the Emperor’s actions at the castle made perfect sense.

Yesterday, the Emperor had ended his so-called visit by merely glancing down at the Duke’s face for a few seconds. Wolfram still vividly remembered the faint sneer that had curled the Emperor’s lips.

After that, under the guise of a “consolation banquet,” he had started a party even before sunset.

He had shown no regard for appearances, seemingly obsessed with defiling the castle’s dignity. He brought musicians to play dance tunes, opened rooms in the East Wing at random, and let people wander through as they pleased.

The traces of that chaos were still visible—the half-eaten food, the broken glasses, the footprints trampling the carpets.

When Wolfram had requested that at least the local servants be allowed to clean up if they didn’t want to use palace workers, the chief attendant had refused. It was clear that the Emperor himself had ordered the mess to be left as it was.

If the Emperor wished it, no one could stop him.

Now, the Emperor was revealing his second purpose.

“The thing blessed by the Lord. Where is it?”

Wolfram feigned ignorance.

“I do not understand, Your Majesty.”

The Emperor glanced sideways at the chief attendant. The old fox, ever quick to catch his master’s intentions, translated smoothly.

“His Majesty is asking where the Duke’s sacred protection item is.”

Even though he must have fully realized how much the Emperor had changed, the chief attendant continued to perform his role without the slightest hesitation.

It was said long ago that the chief attendant would even lick the Emperor’s boots if asked. In that sense, he was nothing if not consistent—he clung to power regardless of who wielded it.

Wolfram lifted his gaze slightly. The Emperor looked down at him with a leisurely expression, as if it was only natural for whatever he wanted to fall into his hands.

But how dare he covet another’s sacred item? For a follower of Lumion, it was an unspeakable insult.

Every citizen of the Empire had their own protection item. It was the Lord’s mercy granted to mortal beings.

The item protected the soul until the day of final judgment, guided it along the right path, and served as a tool for communicating with the divine.

On the day of a child’s birth, parents would prepare such an item, and a priest would bless it in the name of the Lord—typically a ring, a rosary, or something similar.

A protection item was deeply personal. It was precious, considered directly connected to one’s soul, and was neither entrusted to others nor made the subject of idle curiosity.

Yet now, the Emperor was making an outrageous demand that violated the very core of Imperial values.

Had the Duke been healthy, even in his absence, the retainers would have been horrified and would have tried to stop the Emperor.

But the Duke seemed unlikely ever to awaken, and no one dared risk angering the Emperor for the sake of a fallen lord.

Thus, Wolfram had to rely on his own cunning.

“I am filled with the desire to assist Your Majesty, but regretfully, the Duke managed it personally. No one knows where it is now.”