Chapter 21

When Ian entered the room, the servant who had been caring for the child stood up. The young woman with vague features glanced quickly at Ian’s face and hurriedly bowed her head. She was the one who specialized in cleaning Ash’s room. Ian recognized her, having become familiar with her face during the months they’d spent here.

‘Now I’m getting needlessly nervous…’

Normally, he would have deliberately smiled and spoken to ease tension since their respectful manner made him uncomfortable, but after hearing from Gale that the people in the manor were hiding secrets, it was difficult to treat them as casually as before. Fortunately, since there hadn’t been much to brighten his face lately, she didn’t seem to notice much change in Ian.

“…Thank you for taking care of Ash.”

“Oh, not at all. I’m worried because the young master still shows no signs of improvement. The doctor said he’s past the crisis and should get better soon…”

At the servant’s words, Ian briefly recalled the wrinkled face of the manor’s physician. Should he suspect that old man too?

According to Dr. Sutton, Ash’s illness was a regional endemic disease that struck every winter. In severe cases, people could lose their lives, but fortunately it wasn’t that serious.

But he couldn’t feel at ease. Not knowing what to do with the anxiety and distrust swirling in his heart, Ian turned his gaze elsewhere and said:

“You can go now. I’ll stay here.”

At Ian’s words, the servant who lifted her skirt and bent her knees slightly slipped out of the room silently and politely.

The bed with its headboard against one wall of the spacious room looked even larger due to the white sheets. That made the child lying there appear smaller and younger than his actual age. The moment he saw that pale child’s face, Ian involuntarily held his breath as the scene from when he first entered the manor and came to this room flashed quickly through his eyes.

That face he had almost forgotten during his time here—

That face that looked like just skin stretched over a skull.

Now that things had turned out this way, blind guilt churned and squelched in Ian’s chest, wondering if allowing the child to use this room where Ash’s father Arthur Walton had died might have been the wrong choice.

He had thought it would be good for both of them if he stayed by the side of the lonely child left alone in the manor, helping them avoid their predetermined fates, but perhaps that had been too naive a thought.

Lost in thought for a moment, Ian snapped back to attention at the sound of something falling. A small doll had fallen at the foot of the bed. It seemed to have slipped while the child was holding the doll Ian had bought for him.

Ian picked up the doll and placed it in the child’s arms.

Even unconsciously, the child hugged what had come into his embrace.

The child, who couldn’t sleep properly at night due to fever, had his eyes closed as if his fever had subsided for a moment, but he was breathing rapidly in and out. Ash’s appearance was pitiful enough to make even a stranger feel sorry for him.

Ian removed the now-warm towel from the child’s head, soaked it in the basin of water, wrung out the cold, water-soaked towel, and placed it on his forehead. Perhaps due to the cold sensation touching his forehead, the closed eyelids opened slightly and hazy violet eyes moved. Then, as if recognizing Ian, he moved his head.

“Ash…”

Ian carefully placed his hand on the child’s cheek.

Under his long fingers, he could feel the child’s fever. Though it seemed like all of this was his fault, Ash whimpered like a young animal seeking protection and rubbed his cheek against Ian’s hand.

“Brother…”

Though he was usually so polite.

A weak sound like deflating air touched his eardrum and disappeared. His lips seemed to move slightly, then he closed his eyes and fell asleep again. Ian wasn’t surprised since Ash had been having difficulty maintaining clear consciousness even when not sleeping.

Still, Ian couldn’t withdraw his hand and looked down for a long while before slowly pulling away.

The hot feverish sensation seemed to have transferred to his hand and lingered for a moment.

Between anxiety and guilt, responsibility raised its head. Pulling the blanket up to below the child’s neck, Ian muttered:

“The doctor says you’ll get better. Just bear with it a little longer.”

He swallowed the last words he was about to say, just in case.

‘And let’s leave this manor together.’

He had given Gale the list of manor servants he possessed. It was a list Clayton had provided, saying it would be good for him to know. Names and brief information about origins and personalities were written next to each person, but there was no information about those who had worked at the manor for a long time, like butler Clayton and Mrs. Gauner.

Saying this much was sufficient for now, Gale put the materials in his bag and left.

After Gale left, Ian sat in the armchair by the fireplace for a long time, lost in thought. He sat alone thinking with the unhelpful system window open. He declined dinner saying he had no appetite and made his decision while staring at the flickering fireplace.

It would be best to leave this place.

‘The missing young lovers, the previous head of house who died of illness, the suddenly deceased tutor. If someone directly related to their deaths is in this manor…’

The life that had been comfortable if somewhat strange until now felt like a veil that had adequately concealed the danger before his eyes. He wanted to flee this manor right now, but he couldn’t leave this place alone.

Ian looked down at the child still breathing with difficulty.

He had to take Ash with him.

Ian’s plan was this:

In the deep of night when all the manor residents were asleep, he would take Ash and flee to the sanctuary in the village, then go to the capital the next day to entrust himself to Gale. Since he had never walked to the village, he considered carrying Ash on his back all night, walking and resting repeatedly.

Hoping Ash’s condition would improve without worsening further, Ian carefully withdrew from Ash’s room.

Fortunately, as he hoped, Ash’s illness was improving very gradually. Meanwhile, Ian ate every meal without skipping to build his strength and focused on carrying loads when he went to the stables.

Gabe, who couldn’t understand why the young master who had frequently visited but had been lazy, shivering in the cold since winter came, was now visiting the stables regularly, worried he might get hurt and silently helped while hovering around.

Trying to move his underused body again made him ache all over every day.

‘This is killing me. To think just this much movement would be so difficult.’

When Ian stopped while moving a pile of well-dried straw, Gabe looked at him as if asking what was wrong. Gabe, who had been checking his master’s complexion, approached and quickly took the straw pile Ian was carrying, then said hesitantly:

“Y-you’re, worried, a lot. D-don’t, overdo, it.”

“Thank you.”

Ian smiled faintly, and it suddenly occurred to him that Gabe had never once asked how things were progressing since making that request.

While grateful that Gabe didn’t rush him and just waited silently, Ian wanted to tell him what he had discovered so far and ask for help.

But he didn’t want to trouble Gabe when he still didn’t know for certain what had happened. So he just asked a random question:

“Would it be very far to walk from here to the village?”

“F-far, very f-far, so. H-how f-far, you ask.”

At the seemingly random question, Gabe furrowed his brows and tried to explain. Though it took some time due to his stammering words and disorganized thoughts popping out, Ian listened carefully, understood, and asked back:

“You mean we’d have to go quite a bit further even after passing the cemetery?”

Gabe nodded.

Since there were swamps around the manor, they’d have to follow only the road, and for that they’d need bright moonlight. Since deciding to leave, he had been counting on the calendar and thinking he should leave when the full moon came.

Noticing Gabe looking at him with worried eyes, Ian forced a smile:

“I was just curious how far the manor is from the village.”

Then he made an apologetic face to Gabe:

“About what you mentioned before—I made the request but it’s taking time to investigate. Could you wait a bit longer?”

Gabe quickly nodded at those words.

Looking at those gentle eyes that seemed to trust him, Ian felt bitter.

‘I hope what Mr. Gale finds out won’t cause trouble for this man.’

Regardless of the manor’s affairs, he sincerely hoped they were safe somewhere else and that he could bring good news to this man.

That night was much more comfortable, with the harsh cold having lifted. Though there were some clouds, the full moon shone clearly in the black sky, and the unmelted snow reflected the moonlight brightly.

Since Ash had been able to sleep with steady breathing for the past few days, Ian was relieved. When he tried to carry the child who had been lying on the bed, he was quite heavy and warm. Worried he might drop the child, Ian pressed close to the bed as he lifted him.

Ash, who had grown somewhat, seemed to have gotten smaller again while lying sick in bed.

Ian carefully held the child and opened the door. For the past few days, he had carefully observed the surroundings every night, but aside from an ominous feeling, nothing had appeared.

His feet, wrapped in socks without shoes, stepped onto the ice-cold corridor. The manor, where they weren’t supposed to wander at night, was submerged in darkness and remained silent as if feigning ignorance. Ian heightened his senses and walked forward with quiet steps.

Despite it being winter, sweat rolled down the back of his neck. The clothes he had deliberately worn thick were soaked with sweat and stuck unpleasantly to his body. Stepping on the marble stairs covered with dark brown carpet, Ian was definitely leaving his room and heading down toward the first floor.

But when he came to his senses, he was on the third floor. Was it because he was too nervous? The concept of going up and down couldn’t change overnight, but he couldn’t just stand there blankly. For now, he had no choice but to move again. When he carefully went down the stairs that stood silently before him, this time it was the second floor—the familiar corridor he had come from.

Moonlight entering through windows dimly illuminated the area, and windows rattled occasionally in the wind. Ian wiped the cold sweat from his forehead. His back was hot. Ash slept soundly as if not uncomfortable, strangely so.

Approaching the railing and briefly looking down, he could see the firmly closed front door beyond the first-floor lobby.

With no other choice, Ian began descending again.

On the third floor of the manor building were Ash’s playroom and former bedroom, and on the opposite side were rooms where servants stayed. Ian barely supported his trembling legs and examined the place he had climbed several times, breathing heavily.

‘This is impossible. What on earth is happening? This should definitely be the first floor.’

It was as if something was preventing Ian from reaching the first floor.