Chapter 37

“What is all of this?” Serin glanced around, taken aback. Kennard found himself at a loss for words to respond. It was his first encounter with such a scene as well. Although there were shamans in Baruchella Montefiano, he had always kept my distance due to his aversion to magic itself.

“Your Grace, this way,” Irish’s voice called out, prompting me to turn around and face a wall draped with an enormous crocheted shawl. As Irish lifted the shawl, a peculiar shape was unveiled.

“Remove it,” Kennard commanded. Without hesitation, Serin and Irish grasped the edges of the shawl and tore it away from the wall, filling the room with a flurry of white dust resembling snow. Kennard instinctively shielded his eyes and covered his nose and mouth with a handkerchief, while Irish and Serin coughed uncontrollably, discarding the shawl onto the floor.

“Oh my,” Serin exclaimed, stepping back and coughing. Kennard cautiously opened his eyes. “What… what is this?” Once again, Kennard found himself unable to provide an answer to Serin’s inquiry. The sight unfolding before them was so grotesque that it seemed to draw them into its macabre depths – a massive painting executed with blood.

Within the painting, scenes of burning forests and castles, people and animals impaled by swords and spears, or torn asunder by beasts, littered one side of the wall. Amidst the chaos, Irish pointed to the center of the painting.

It was a symbol distinct from the blood-marked ones found in the Terra Demorte Forest, yet eerily similar, prominently depicted amidst the carnage. Around this central symbol, grotesque images sprawled in all directions, entwined in a nightmarish tableau.

“Look up there,” Serin exclaimed, pointing to the wall as though he had stumbled upon a revelation. Kennard joined Serin’s side and peered at the indicated spot. It was so small that discerning its shape required closer inspection; at first glance, it resembled densely packed trees. However, as Kennard squinted and focused on the painting, the shape became clear. “It’s a frame for a painting.”

***

“Wasn’t Irish supposed to be on guard duty today?” Cura was on the verge of opening the bathroom door when she heard the voice of the knight who had been stationed outside.

“Cura, just a moment,” Elena whispered urgently, grasping Cura’s hand as she reached for the doorknob. Surprised, Cura turned to Elena, her lips moving silently in confusion. Elena gestured for Cura to come closer before quickly hiding behind the door, leaving only a slight crack.

Unnoticed by the knights, Elena listened intently to their conversation filtering through the narrow opening.

“Captain Serin summoned Irish this morning and then changed the guards,” one knight remarked.

“Why the sudden change?” the other inquired.

“I’m not sure, but it seemed like they’re going somewhere together,” the first knight replied.

“Where to?” the second pressed.

“He didn’t say. Just mentioned there’s something to attend to.”

“It’s unusual for Captain Serin to call for Irish and leave like this,” the second knight mused.

“Yeah, it’s got me curious,” the first agreed.

“Perhaps they’re going hunting?” suggested the second.

“Even if they were, they wouldn’t bring the Captain and Irish along,” the first reasoned.

“True. Maybe they’re scouting the borders?” the second proposed.

“The borders?” the first echoed. “Given what we found in the forest yesterday, they could be searching for those White Fox Tribe members.”

“Hmm, that’s plausible. But knowing His Grace, he wouldn’t go alone, let alone take us with him,” the second countered.

“There’s no point in speculating. Let’s wait for Irish to return; he might give us some answers,” the first suggested.

“He’s as tight-lipped as they come, especially if it’s an order from His Grace. He’d sooner keep a secret than spill it,” the second remarked, mimicking sealed lips before both knights erupted into laughter.

Cura, who had been eavesdropping with her ear pressed against the door, straightened up abruptly. “I heard His Grace took Captain Serin and a knight named Irish. Do you know where they went?” She leaned in close to Elena, speaking in a hushed tone.

“Yeah,” Elena replied, her body tensing momentarily at the mention of the White Fox Tribe in the knights’ conversation. Memories of their attack in the forest flooded back, filling her with a suffocating fear. She had instinctively tried to prevent Cura from listening in on the knights’ conversation, but she hadn’t expected to hear such troubling dialogue.

“It seems the White Fox Tribe returned to the forest yesterday. I wonder what they discovered. Should we inquire?” Elena turned her head slightly towards Cura, unable to indicate that she had overheard their conversation.

“Let’s just leave it,” Elena said softly as she opened the bathroom door and stepped out. The knights, who had been leaning against the wall nearby, quickly straightened up and resumed their positions.

“Is everything sorted?” one of the knights asked, nudging his companion with his elbow. The other knight scratched his head sheepishly.

“Yes, have you been waiting long?” Elena replied with a gentle smile, choosing not to elaborate further. She knew that because of her, these unsuspecting individuals had been on guard duty for hours, unable to rest properly. It was all due to Kennard’s orders, and there was nothing they could do about it.

Elena and Cura led the way down the corridor, the knights trailing behind them. The chatter that had filled the air outside the bathroom ceased as soon as they laid eyes on Elena. Unnerved by the scrutiny from behind, Elena felt every step forward weighed down by the intensity of their gazes. The corridor seemed interminably long, and she longed to retreat to the safety of her bedroom.

My bedroom, Elena chided herself inwardly, admonishing her subconscious thoughts. Despite her indebtedness to Kennard, she continually forgot her rightful place. It seemed preposterous that she, of all people, occupied such a luxurious and comfortable space exclusively.

Upon reaching the door, Cura took the lead, deftly opening it before stepping aside. The knights positioned themselves evenly on either side, their rigid stances against the wall indicating their readiness.

“Please rest,” one of the knights offered, nodding towards Elena. His counterpart mirrored the gesture, albeit with a hint of awkwardness. Flustered by their deference, Elena returned their bows with a quick nod before hurrying into the room.

As Cura followed and closed the door behind them, the room enveloped them in darkness, save for the soft glow of the bedside lamp and the flickering flames in the fireplace. Elena’s eyes struggled to adjust to the sudden change in light as she made her way towards the dressing table. Just as she reached it, a sudden jolt of fear paralyzed her, rendering her unable even to cry out.

For a brief moment, Elena detected a presence, a faint scent that hinted at someone’s presence nearby. “Why did you stop?” Cura, who nearly collided with Elena’s sudden halt, inquired, taken aback by the abrupt pause. Without a word, Elena gestured towards the room’s interior with a pointed finger.

There, by the fireplace, a mysterious shadow loomed. “Step back,” Cura urged, seizing Elena’s wrist and guiding her towards the door. Just as she was about to call out to the knights outside, a voice interjected, “No need to make a fuss.” Seated casually on the sofa in front of the fireplace, Hazel emerged from the shadows, surprising Elena once again with her unexpected presence.

A wave of shock washed over Elena as she realized Hazel was her unexpected visitor. “How did you…?” she began, her astonishment evident as she glanced at Carmen, who stood nearby, casting the shadow.

Cura, too, breathed a sigh of relief, only to tense up again upon realizing it was Hazel. “It was quiet, so I decided to investigate. With no guard dogs or homeowners around, I figured it was safe to enter. Was I mistaken?” Hazel explained, her tone nonchalant.

Elena furrowed her brow involuntarily at Hazel’s words. The “guard dogs” Hazel referred to were the knights, and Elena herself was the supposed “homeowner.” “I’m not the homeowner, and the knights are not dogs,” Elena clarified tersely.

Hazel shrugged, her expression turning confrontational despite her exaggerated smile. “Oh, I see! The knights are His Grace’s dogs, and you…” she trailed off, spinning around dramatically. While her smile remained, her eyes betrayed a sense of hostility. “It’s baffling that someone like you would own such a luxurious room. It’s beyond belief that it’s even better than where I live. What’s the deal here?”

Elena remained silent, realizing she knew little about Hazel’s circumstances. If, as Hazel claimed, her living conditions were worse than Elena’s, it was understandable for her to feel resentful. After all, Elena was just a commoner while Hazel hailed from nobility.

“If you desire a room change from His Grace, or if I should request it on your behalf…” Elena’s words trailed off, causing even the forced smile on Hazel’s face to vanish. With a swift motion, Hazel gripped the back of the sofa, rising gracefully to her feet and smoothing out her dress hem with a sweep of her palm. Despite the late hour, her elaborate hair ornaments and attire remained pristine.

She advanced towards Elena slowly, each step deliberate, until she stood within arm’s reach, her hand poised mid-air. “Are you attempting to be considerate?” she inquired, her tone tinged with skepticism.

“If it is Lady Hazel’s wish, I can approach His Grace regarding the matter,” Elena replied, her voice barely above a whisper. Suddenly, the weight of the moment rendered her breathless, as if lightning had struck right before her eyes, leaving her momentarily stunned and disoriented. It felt as though her cheeks might flush with embarrassment at any moment.