MPBGS 48

Chapter : 48

By now, the season’s opening audience had already concluded, and the Emperor’s thirtieth birthday—two weeks from now—was perfectly timed.

Gabriel had said he would secure the invitation himself. He would also prepare the dress and even arrange a chaperone. As expected of a romance novel male lead, he handled everything with meticulous care from start to finish…

Now he even had to teach me how to dance. I briefly felt guilty for shifting too much work onto him—but then realized this was a disaster of Gabriel’s own making and quickly shook off the guilt.

Yes. Gabriel was the one who asked me to be his partner first. That’s how love works—the one who loves more loses.

Come to think of it, how did Dolline know that Gabriel was my partner?

I never told her. Had news already spread that Gabriel had asked me to be his partner? As expected, gossip travels fast in high society.

“Take care on your way back, Dolline.”

“Yes. Thank you.”

At last—at long last—the hellish session had ended. Dolline politely bid farewell with a gentle smile and quickly left the room. After carefully closing the door, she took a deep breath. Once she was out of Evangeline’s line of sight, she finally felt like she could breathe again.

“Damn it… seriously…”

Even though she wasn’t experiencing withdrawal symptoms, her hands were still trembling. She should have refused, even if it had been the bishop’s request.

Recently, word had spread that the Count of Rohanson was looking for private tutors. Rumors circulated that the frail young lady, long thought to be nearing death, had miraculously recovered and was now preparing in earnest to enter high society.

Perhaps because she had passed the appropriate debut age, Evangeline Rohanson had recently become a frequent subject of gossip among the curious elite.

Some said her illness had been a lie and she had hidden herself away due to her ugly appearance. Others claimed the real Evangeline had died and the count had found a lookalike replacement. There were even eyewitness accounts from the temple saying she had an aura like a descending angel.

Because Evangeline had used illness as an excuse and avoided social contact, she had no acquaintances, and the rumors only grew more extravagant.

Dolline had not paid much attention to such gossip, but Bishop Zavania had approached her with a proposal—while she was on one of her usual discreet trips to purchase holy water.

“It’s a very simple task. If you do it properly, I will reward you.”

The request was to become Evangeline’s private tutor, observe her character, and determine her relationship with the knight commander Gabriel, then report back. In return, she would receive a supply of holy water once every three months.

Dolline was a severe drug addict. It was serious enough that it had led to her divorce.

When her addiction worsened, she would periodically drink holy water—once every six months—to treat it. However, both habits were expensive, and she had recently been struggling financially. The tutor job, which offered both money and access to holy water, was an easy decision.

She never even asked why the bishop needed such information. Looking back now, she thought she should have asked.

Thanks to a well-crafted application prepared by Bishop Zavania, Dolline was accepted without difficulty. The beginning seemed simple enough. Observing a sickly girl—how hard could that be?

That assumption was a mistake.

The Evangeline Rohanson she met in person was utterly bizarre. Angelic? Frail? Ugly? Who among those who mocked Evangeline had ever actually faced her directly?

‘She wasn’t an ordinary woman.’

Even Bishop Zavania’s assessment—based on direct observation—had been wrong. That old man must have developed cataracts with age; how else could he have judged her so incorrectly?

Her translucent, pale skin—so pale that it seemed blood might barely flow beneath it—and her crimson eyes, like the purest rubies set into empty sockets. Evangeline resembled less a human and more an angelic statue displayed within a temple.

Dolline’s vision spun. It felt as though her mind was being forcefully pried open.

She hadn’t taken any drugs, yet thoughts were incessantly injected into her mind. It felt as though someone was whispering directly into her ear, like an insect crawling inside.

“Prostrate yourself at once. Kneel and worship. Praise. Glorify. Revere. Adore. Venerate. Extol.”

Whenever she was with Lady Evangeline, those voices always echoed in her head.

Dolline did not submit to Evangeline because she had grown accustomed to similar voices during her withdrawal episodes.

Living daily with commands like “jump out the window” or “throw yourself in front of a moving carriage,” the addition of this new “harmony” changed little. Though the voices tangled together into nonsense like “slit your wrists to prove your devotion,” it was still manageable for now.

Even if she was used to it, it was not something one could endure for long. It was understandable why all the other tutors had fled.

Unless one had a clear purpose like Dolline did, it would be difficult to endure. She had no idea what kind of mental state the mansion’s servants were in. Were they all taking drugs just to work here?

Especially the three maids surrounding Evangeline—they seemed the most unhinged. One of them had surely lost her mind or broken her sense of fear.

The red-haired maid, Kanna, seemed completely dominated by that voice, while Daisy remained wary of Dolline. The most normal and approachable among them appeared to be Hena.

“Are you leaving now?”

Just then, she ran into Hena. With her somber expression, Hena asked calmly.

No—Hena had left the room before Dolline, so she should have already gone downstairs. The fact she was still on the same floor meant she had been waiting.

“You still need to visit the butler, correct? Shall we go together?”

Dolline was about to decline but then remembered the holy water and replied, “Yes.” This was a good opportunity to gather information.

While working as a tutor, Dolline had been documenting everything she observed in the Rohanson estate, intending to send detailed reports to Zavania later—her impressions of Lady Evangeline, her attendant maids, and the eerily silent household.

However, she had received no replies. Perhaps she was expected to continue observing Evangeline indefinitely?

It seemed her reports were too poor to warrant a response. She needed more important information. It would have been nice if they had at least told her to continue.

If things went on like this, she felt she might truly end up licking Evangeline Rohanson’s boots.

“Praise her.”

“Pardon?”

“You’re the only tutor left, Dolline. The others quit quickly, so the lady was disappointed.”

“I see… Lady Evangeline is quite kind.”

“Yes.”

Dolline continued praising Evangeline to please Hena, but Hena showed little reaction. Her praise worked well on Kanna, so Dolline didn’t understand why the sisters reacted so differently.

At the butler’s office, she received a generous bonus. With this, she could enjoy a week of happiness. Gratefully, Dolline accepted the payment.

“Also, Dolline, have you been adhering to the confidentiality clause?”

“Of course. I have no one to tell anyway.”

“Then please continue to observe it.”

At the butler’s reminder, Dolline agreed to a promise she had no intention of keeping. Once she left the estate, she planned to write a letter to Bishop Zavania immediately. She had gathered quite a bit of information today.

“I’ll be on my way.”

After exchanging farewells with the butler, Dolline headed for the exit. As she crossed the threshold, someone grabbed her clothing from behind and yanked her back. Her throat was suddenly constricted, and she collapsed, coughing.

“Cough—! What… are you—!”

The one who had grabbed her throat was Hena. From Dolline’s perspective on the ground, she saw Hena’s shoes. Why suddenly? Had her identity as a spy been exposed? Was the butler’s earlier comment a warning?

“Let us prove our devotion through death.”

Death? So that’s it—they intended to kill her. She was going to be silenced. The other tutors hadn’t quit—they had been murdered. That damned old Zavania had sent her into a death trap!

‘She’s going to kill me…!’

Gasping for breath, Dolline crawled toward the door. But no matter how desperately she moved, Hena caught up in just two steps.

A shadow loomed behind her. It was over. There was no escape. As Dolline fell into despair, Hena spoke gently:

“Dolline, that’s a window.”

Dolline lifted her head at those words.

“Huh?”

What had been a door was now a wide-open window. They were on the second floor. She wouldn’t necessarily die from falling, but she had no idea why she had mistaken it for a door.

Her withdrawal symptoms must have worsened. She needed drugs. Or at least holy water to treat her addiction—right now. With trembling hands, Dolline took out her remaining narcotics, something she had been carefully conserving due to lack of money. She inhaled deeply.

Hoo—haa.

Her mind drifted. The world swirled as if paints had been mixed together. Hena’s face distorted—splitting into two, then ten, then recombining into thirty.

Within the spinning palette, another mass appeared. A drop of black ink fell, rapidly spreading.

“Oh dear, I made a mistake. I was told to keep her alive for two weeks.”

The dark, distorted figure spoke. Thirteen eyes looked at Dolline, and four mouths twitched.

“But in this state, we might not need to do anything.”

The twisted figure hummed as it left.

The world remained warped. Someone lifted Dolline up. She struggled weakly in panic. The person identified herself as “Hena,” a name Dolline vaguely recognized.

Hena with three circular markings gripped Dolline’s shoulder tightly, painfully so.

“Let me say this again, Dolline. Please remember my words. If you want to live, never oppose the lady. Simply obey her. The lady is kind—she won’t question the sins you’ve committed.”