Chapter 3

The cat rubbed its face against Julian’s leg.

“Leo.”

At Leo’s appearance, the stiffness in Julian’s face softened slightly.

When Julian crouched down, Leo leapt gracefully onto his shoulder.

Seeing Julian’s expression grow gentler, Croa let out a small sigh of relief.

But the faint sound of his breath made Julian frown again.

“What are you doing here?”

“P-pardon?”

“Didn’t you hear me? I told you it was due tomorrow. Even if you start now, time will be tight.”

Leo hissed at Croa.

Two pairs of golden eyes glared sharply at him.

Croa shivered as though he’d come face to face with a starving lion. Tears nearly welled in his eyes.

“I-I’ll go at once!”

Another day, another late night at work. Croa, nearly in tears, hurried off.

“Always needs a few extra words before he moves.”

Julian shook his head as he watched the empty space where Croa had been.

With a quiet sigh, Leo jumped lightly down to the ground.

Julian heard Leo’s voice inside his mind.

‘Who is she, that you care so much?’

“I don’t care. It’s just… when I look at her, someone comes to mind. And it makes me feel sick.”

Julian sank onto the white sand. Only the sound of waves lapping the shore broke the silence.

‘Who? The Duchess of Johannes?’

“You’re sharp as ever.”

Julian let out a hollow laugh.

The truth was, he had hardly met Rebecca at social gatherings. He avoided such events whenever possible.

But even from those few encounters, she had left a deep impression on him.

Like Julian, she only showed her face briefly at large banquets.

Word had it that Zeppelin kept her on a very short leash.

Though she was always adorned in dazzling beauty, Rebecca never seemed alive.

Even when she sat among noblewomen, her replies were mechanical, repeated endlessly.

People hailed her as the most beautiful woman in the Empire, but Julian couldn’t agree.

To him, she looked like a corpse.

That was why, whenever he saw Rebecca, he always thought of his mother—

A woman dried up, body and soul, like brittle branches.

‘But those eyes just now… what were they?’

In the carriage, Rebecca had looked like a different person.

She had been furious. For someone who was supposed to be empty of all feeling, it was unexpected.

And those burning eyes… they lingered with him, a haunting afterimage.

For that moment, he hadn’t been able to look away.

‘Don’t tell me you’ve fallen for her?’

Leo tilted his head, gazing up at Julian with amusement.

“What—… You! How many times have I told you not to rummage through my thoughts?”

‘Wasn’t trying. You’re the one spilling them.’

Julian gave a bitter smile. He reached out and stroked Leo, who sat with careless grace, tail flicking.

Leo purred contentedly.

A creature both beloved and despised. A blessing and a curse.

That was what Leo was to him.

Today, more than ever, the weight on his shoulders felt unbearably heavy.

He was never truly alone—yet always lonely.

Dawn came again.

With Zeppelin and Alicia away on their honeymoon, the vast Devonshire estate belonged solely to Rebecca.

It should have been peaceful, yet she could not enjoy her freedom.

Zeppelin’s attendants—often called his hunting dogs—watched her from every corner.

“Since the Count isn’t home today, won’t you have a little more, my lady?”

Alice placed another plate of dessert before her.

Rebecca stared at the cake topped with tiny strawberries.

Her appetite stirred, but she shook her head.

If she ate more, she might hear his sharp words later. For now, she had to remain exactly as she always was.

She tried to recall what she had done around this time in her last life.

“It’s fine. Let’s just take a walk.”

Rebecca rose and left the dining hall.

Though the master was absent, the mansion felt unchanged.

It wasn’t because Rebecca had fulfilled her duties as mistress well.

Rather, the head maid and butler worked tirelessly to ensure nothing would give Zeppelin cause for complaint upon his return.

Rebecca bore the title of Countess, but it was nothing more than a hollow shell.

She knew nothing of household management.

Even the accounts, which should have been her domain, Zeppelin never entrusted to her.

“All you need do is sit there, like a rose in bloom. Leave the complicated matters to me.”

Even going out was forbidden.

Her days were spent with embroidery or piano practice inside the mansion walls.

On restless days, she simply wandered aimlessly through the gardens.

Sometimes she might invite nearby young ladies or noblewomen for tea, but few accepted.

Occasionally, invitations to social gatherings arrived for her.

But Zeppelin forbade attendance unless absolutely necessary—claiming he wished to keep her pure and untainted by the vanity of others.

“His doll…”

Rebecca recalled what Zeppelin had said before her death.

A perfect doll.

He was right. The Count’s estate was a giant dollhouse, and she was merely the beautiful doll sitting inside.

A pitiful doll, to be discarded at any time.

Lost in thought, Rebecca found herself before the exhibition hall, its ceiling a glass dome.

It was called the Hall of Light.

The dome was draped in heavy black cloth to shield against the sun, removed only when guests arrived.

The Devonshire family had long been renowned for their artistic tastes, collecting priceless works through the generations.

Among them, Zeppelin was the most obsessive collector of all.

His love of art bordered on mania; he had even built a climate-controlled building solely for his treasures.

Rebecca imagined shattering the Hall of Light to pieces.

She pictured Zeppelin’s despair—and smiled.

But the smile faded as she shook her head.

The place was too well guarded. Even now, knights in shining armor stood stationed at the entrance.

Several of them bowed respectfully upon seeing her.

Rebecca gave the barest nod before turning away.

She had no power.

If she had come from a strong family, she would have divorced him long ago.

But her birth family, a mere viscount’s house, had collapsed into bankruptcy after her marriage.

Even in her past life, they had barely survived by clinging to the Count’s household.

“The sun is strong today, my lady. Be careful not to burn.”

Alice draped a shawl over Rebecca’s shoulders and raised a parasol to block the sun.

“Alice, your arms must get tired holding that. Shall we just go inside?”

“No, my lady. For you, this is nothing. And you’ve been stifled indoors so long—surely a walk like this eases your heart a little?”

Rebecca thought back to the day Alicia bore her second child, when Alice had insisted on cheering her up by taking her to the village festival.

It had been a rare, happy day.

The price, however, was cruel.

When Zeppelin learned of the unauthorized outing, he beat Alice nearly to death.

Rebecca could still see Alice’s bloodied body, dying before her eyes.

It left her with a debt she could never repay.

“If you have a wish, tell me, Alice. I’ll grant it, whatever it is.”

“My only wish is to spend peaceful days at your side, my lady.”

“Don’t lie. Tell me honestly—jewels? Or should I raise your wages?”

“My lady…”

Alice set the parasol down and clasped Rebecca’s hands.

“I truly want nothing else. I only wish to remain forever by your side.”

Rebecca smiled faintly at her maid’s earnest devotion.

She was grateful that Alice lived again in this time.

In this cold, desolate house, Alice was the only person she could trust.

“Yes. Thank you. There’s no one but you, Alice. Let’s walk a little more, then go back inside.”

Alice nodded warmly.

Her smile was the only warmth in Devonshire—icebound even beneath spring sunlight.

Back inside, Rebecca slowly climbed the stairs toward her second-floor chamber.

Lifting her gaze, she looked up to the third floor, where Zeppelin’s bedroom and study lay.

Most couples shared a room, but not they.

After using her body, Zeppelin always returned to his own chamber to sleep alone—worried, perhaps, that her sleeping habits might scratch his face.

But more than that, he wanted everything beneath him.

He began each day on the top floor, looking down on everyone else.

No one entered that level without permission. Not even Rebecca.

Her attention lingered on the study.

Zeppelin disliked the thought of her learning.

All books were locked in his library, and without express purpose, she had no access to them.

The Count’s every secret must be inside that room.

Whenever he left the house, Zeppelin locked the study securely.

Strictly forbidding entry suggested there was indeed something hidden within.

Rebecca gazed at the door.

If I search, surely I’ll find something.

Seizing a moment when Alice was absent, she slipped toward the third-floor staircase.

“This floor is off limits, my lady.”

No one had been there a moment ago. Yet suddenly, a broad-shouldered servant blocked her path.

“…I know. I must have lost my way.”

Rebecca turned back, though regret tugged at her.

Alice, carrying an afternoon dress upstairs, had witnessed everything in silence. Her green eyes narrowed thoughtfully.

“My lady… do you want to go into the study?”

“What?”

Rebecca flinched, setting aside her embroidery.

“I saw you heading for the stairs. Should I help you?”

Looking into Alice’s sparkling green eyes, Rebecca was reminded of the past.

‘No one will notice if we slip to the festival for a little while. Come on, my lady!’

She couldn’t let that happen again.

Rebecca shook her head.

“No. It’s too dangerous.”

“But the Count won’t be back for a week. If ever there was a chance, this is it.”

Alice was right. Who knew when such an opportunity might come again?

But it was a gamble.

Seeing Rebecca hesitate, Alice whispered quickly.

“Listen. Right now only Hans is guarding the third floor. Luckily, I know him well. I can lure him to the kitchen. While he’s gone, you slip into the study.”

“But Alice…”

“It’ll be fine! You want to read, don’t you? The Count won’t be back for days—you need something to ease your loneliness.”

Pressed by Alice’s insistence, Rebecca finally nodded.

Her heart pounded, just as it had on the day she’d once tried to flee the Count’s estate.