Episode 77
It would have been a lie to say I wasn’t unnerved. Standing in front of the room I frequently entered, a sense of unease washed over me. Even as I stood at the door, I felt no desire to step inside. Thoughts of Eunice unraveled endlessly in my mind. Did she leave this room alive? What had she been doing here before she disappeared? As much as I didn’t want to consider it, if she had indeed died… who would have killed her?
The Eunice Duran I once knew might have drawn such attention, but the Eunice of today had no reason to be anyone’s target. Someone among the servants suggested she could have been murdered out of lingering hatred for the Durant family. Yet, it was nearly impossible for an ordinary person to infiltrate the duke’s household. If there were a culprit within these walls… could Igon have had any connection to Eunice’s disappearance? A chill crept down my neck.
Just then, a presence beside me caught my attention. I quickly turned my head to see who it was.
“…Is something wrong?”
It was one of the young maids from the neighboring room. Seeing me hesitate outside my room, she must have wondered if there was an issue. Surprised but trying to reassure her, I shook my head, indicating that everything was fine. She raised her eyebrows slightly, then shrugged in mild curiosity.
“If anything’s wrong, feel free to come to our room.”
I felt a grateful warmth for her concern and nodded with a faint smile. As she turned to leave, she offered a quiet.
“Goodnight.”
The distance between my room and hers was considerable. A rest area separated the single rooms from the larger shared quarters for other servants. I watched her as she walked back to her room, and as her door closed slowly, I turned to place my hand on my own doorknob.
Creak.
The door’s groan, a sound I had never paid attention to before, echoed unusually loud tonight. I placed a lamp on the windowsill, its soft orange glow casting a dim light across the room. Changing into my nightclothes, I sat on the edge of the bed. Sleep did not come easily, as expected. Lying down felt uneasy with so many things on my mind.
According to the servants, Eunice had vanished, and before my arrival, all the furniture in the room had been replaced. It was reassuring to know the items weren’t hers, yet it also stirred questions. If she had simply disappeared, why would there have been a need to replace the furniture?
I blinked, then stood up, taking the lamp in hand. Instinctively, I began to survey the room. Since the furniture was new, I focused instead on the unchanged walls and floor, carefully casting light over every corner. I moved lighter pieces aside, but I couldn’t reach the dark, hidden spots behind the heavier ones. So, I bent down, examining the floor seams and feeling along the walls—a poor attempt at detective work, perhaps.
Of course, I knew the odds of finding anything here were slim. If any clues had existed, the servants who searched the room before me would likely have found them. But still, a small part of me hoped I might uncover something that could explain Eunice’s disappearance. After all, I knew her better than the others.
I focused on the area by the window. Eunice had always enjoyed gazing out at the scenery beyond, so maybe, just maybe, she had left something near here. Tilting the lamp, I studied the window frame and walls from different angles. The oil sloshed inside, and the flame flickered, casting wavering shadows. The warmth from the lamp was intense, and I wiped the sweat from my forehead as I inspected the frame.
Then, I noticed a thin, faint line beneath the window frame—a web-like thread. Was it left from incomplete cleaning? I set the lamp down and turned to grab a cloth from the table. But when I looked back, the thread didn’t resemble a cobweb at all. It looked more like a hairline crack in the plaster, a spot that hadn’t been sealed properly. As I leaned closer to inspect it, a gust of wind suddenly burst in.
My pale hair whipped into my face, obscuring my vision, and the hem of my nightclothes twisted around my legs, nearly causing me to stumble. I couldn’t even cry out. The flame in the lamp by the window was snuffed out, leaving a faint smell of oil lingering in the room. I took a shaky step back, clearing my hair from my face as I clutched the doorknob, ready to bolt. Slowly, I turned to look at the source of the wind.
A man sat perched on the windowsill, bathed in slanted moonlight. Though he had clearly jumped in from outside, his breathing was perfectly steady. Arms folded, head tilted back, he watched me quietly. His light-colored eyes gleamed with an eerie blue phosphorescence as he observed me in utter silence. Observed—that was the right word. His gaze tracked my every movement without missing a beat, from the way my chest heaved with startled breaths to the tension down to my toes.
Contrary to the sharp aura that suggested he could spring on me at any moment, he sat with an almost lazy ease, his leg swinging casually.
“I thought you’d be asleep.”
He said. Even though he didn’t raise his voice, it seemed to fill the entire room. His gaze drifted around the room, and, instinctively, I followed his line of sight. The room wasn’t in complete disarray, but it was definitely more chaotic than usual from my search for any trace of Eunice.
He nodded slightly toward the bag on my bed—the one I’d left unpacked to lighten the load in case I needed to move the drawers around.
“Were you planning to run away?”
He asked, smiling faintly. But his smile felt twisted, unnerving in the strange tension of the moment. It was the kind of smile that seemed like a mimicry of human expression, as if something not quite human were pretending to be one.
His otherworldly, almost unnatural beauty only heightened the uncanny feeling in the room. A cold sweat trickled down my back as I felt an ominous chill. He wore a smile, but I could tell he was seething with anger. The disarrayed room, my bag lying out—it seemed he assumed I was preparing to escape. The memory of him once contemplating whether to break my ankle flashed across my mind. He often warned me not to run. And each time, I couldn’t help but remember how, in Evelyn’s body, I had fled from him without a word. Had that left him scarred?
Igon stepped down from the windowsill.
“Unfortunate timing. It seems I showed up just at the wrong moment.”
He said, feigning regret as he held out a hand. Slowly, I approached, pressing my face to his outstretched hand. I denied it with all I had.
‘No, that’s not it.’
Though I couldn’t voice it, I mouthed the words silently.
“Ah, lucky for you, it won’t be tonight.”
He murmured, voice ambiguous. Who exactly was lucky—me or him? Leaving me no time to ponder, he pulled me into his chest. I pressed my face against the expanse of his chest, breathing in the scent of fresh grass and wind.
“But you always hold onto the thought of leaving me, don’t you?”
His voice was a soft whisper, as though he knew all along. I looked up in shock, my throat clenching shut, words refusing to form.
“Did you really think I wouldn’t notice? Trembling like a rabbit in front of a hunter, did you think I wouldn’t realize?”
A slow, sharp smile curved his lips as he tilted my chin upward.
“Go on—shake your pretty head again and deny it.”
With that smile, he leaned down, his lips pressing softly against mine. The light, almost out-of-place sound of our kiss echoed in the room.
“Put on that innocent, clueless look once more.”
He murmured, but I found myself unable to do anything at all. Though his grip on my chin didn’t hurt, it was impossible to escape his hold.
“Go ahead and deceive me one more time. I’ll play the fool for you.”
The word ‘deception’ fell from his lips, and my mind went white with shock. That was the very word I’d once dreaded he might use if he ever discovered my identity as Evelyn.
Looking up at him with trembling eyes, I felt a strange dissonance. Despite telling me not to feign innocence, he was the one pretending to know nothing. He smiled with a childlike brightness as he continued.
“From the very beginning, you’ve been planning to run. Even while lying next to me, that thought never left your mind.”
His words veered from what I’d feared. I thought he’d bring up Evelyn, but he didn’t.
‘Does he not know? Was it all just my own assumption? Was this just a warning about trying to leave?’
Logically, it made no sense for him to know I was Evelyn. And yet, a part of me couldn’t shake the feeling that he was pretending not to know.
Suddenly, Igon lifted me effortlessly, placing me on the windowsill, caging me between his arms. Our eye level shifted, leaving me with a slight view down at him. When I looked down at him, he closed the distance, kissing me with light, quick touches, lips meeting and parting repeatedly. The warmth of his scent, his closeness—it was becoming harder to think clearly.
In his hands, I thought I could let myself shatter, that it wouldn’t matter. With each advance, my body pressed further back until my shoulders brushed the open window, the chill of the night air making the frame creak. Instinctively, I wrapped my arms around his neck, fearing I might fall. His eyes lit up, glowing with satisfaction, almost as if he were celebrating.
He pounced on me like a wild, untamed beast, folding his large frame—nearly twice my own—to meet me with a fervent kiss. There was something almost indecent yet satisfying about how completely focused he was on me, as if I was the sole object of his desire. He loosened the tie at the front of my nightclothes, his lips trailing downward, and a familiar anticipation began to swell within me, heightened by the touch of his now-familiar hands. When he kissed me again, I returned it, brushing my tongue lightly over his lips.
***
At dawn, Igon left first. I knew he had a mountain of duties awaiting him. He rose quietly, careful not to wake me, though I had already been awake, listening as he moved down the corridor. When he had gone, I sat up slowly and crouched beneath the windowsill.
The crack in the wall was almost invisible, blending in with the paint unless seen in just the right light. I ran a fingernail along it, and bits of plaster crumbled softly onto the floor. Small chunks dropped one by one. It seemed as if this section of the wall had been hastily repainted recently.
After clearing a palm-sized section, I could make out what appeared to be writing beneath the plaster. Even in partial view, the rounded edges of the letters reminded me distinctly of Eunice’s handwriting. I fetched a small blade and scraped at the wall in earnest. The grating sound of metal against plaster was unpleasant, but I continued, determined to reveal the hidden message.
When enough of the paint had peeled away, I could finally read what was written there.
“I’m sorry.”
The message was bewildering. I had no idea to whom she was apologizing, nor why she had left these words here. Why leave an apology on the wall, hidden behind layers of paint?
‘For what?’
I mouthed silently, my lips moving soundlessly.
‘What are you sorry for?’
TL/N: Literally Evelyn in every chap
