BPOTWC Chapter 13

Sheridan Manor had a story passed down through its halls.

Built with a golem master's help, this mansion—so the story went—held that master's mana inside its walls, and would ring its own bell to protect its people whenever crisis struck.

One toll meant trouble had arisen somewhere inside the mansion. Two meant the garden or the grounds surrounding the mansion. Three meant the town and the village. And four meant that monsters were pressing in from beyond the northern outer wall, far in the distance.

But as time passed, the number of golem masters had dwindled at an exponential rate, and the mystery Sheridan Manor once carried had gradually come to be regarded as nothing more than legend. So it was that, by now, many people did not even know that the warning conveyed by the bell changed according to how many times it rang.

Maximilian, however, as the one responsible for the mansion, kept the matter well in mind.

At the two clear tolls of the bell, he rose from his desk chair.

When he threw open the window, the booming echo the bell had left behind still shuddered in his ears.

"Send a knight out."

He gave the order to Quentin, who had been beside him, absorbed in paperwork.

"Sir?"

Quentin blinked his weary eyes and lifted his head.

"Didn't you hear it? The guardian bell rang twice."

"As it happens, the soldiers wrote it up in yesterday's patrol report—said it's been going off at all hours for no reason. Gave a petty little clang, twice, they said."

"Twice."

That meant something was wrong in the garden or nearby—usually when there was an intruder, or when a prisoner had escaped—

"……The prisoner."

He remembered that there had been one prisoner wandering the garden the day before. Clarisse, that was.

If the strict guardian wall had seen a prisoner loitering about the garden, it might well have been doing its utmost to raise the alarm.

"I'll go and check myself."

He took up the sword he kept stored behind his desk and strode briskly out into the corridor.

Left alone, Quentin clawed at his own head with both hands and staggered up from his seat.

"Ugh, if this one's a false alarm too, he'll have me writing up some investigation report. That damn bell—can't even pry it off and sell it!"

He adjusted his glasses and threw himself back into his work.

Maximilian ordered the knights to keep watch for anyone breaching the mansion, then went out to the garden himself.

The patrolling soldiers, apparently thinking the sudden ringing meant trouble, were rushing headlong toward the bell tower. (This made the outer wall absolutely furious—not that the soldiers or Maximilian had any way of knowing it.)

Maximilian passed them and made for the garden. With the mansion falling away behind him, the surroundings grew quiet.

He narrowed his eyes and listened for any sound nearby.

Creak, creak.

He smothered his presence and crept toward the sound.

When he reached the tall iron fence set along the garden, he saw a small human shadow perched atop it.

Whatever the purpose, whoever sent them—this one moved like an amateur.

Maximilian kept himself hidden in the thick darkness and drew steadily nearer.

From the groaning and grunting, something had clearly gotten tangled. Caught on the fence, maybe—her clothes?

What kind of intruder bumbles around like this, decked out in clothes hanging off them like some overloaded coat rack?

Watching the shadow whimper and thrash—quite some time passed like that.

Before long, the slender moon that had been hiding among the clouds tilted its head slightly into view. Naturally, its light fell over the fence as well.

"……!"

In an instant, the other person's features came clearly into his sight.

And it seemed the light had not brightened only his own view.

And there she was, the one who'd been wrestling with her coat hem caught on the fence this whole time, staring back at him with wide, round eyes—

"……Ah!"

Startled, the other let out a thin cry—and lost the precarious balance they had barely been holding onto.

"Eek!"

At the sharp cry that dropped with her, Maximilian lunged forward and swept her up into both arms.

With a soft thump, the familiar scent he had only ever known from afar settled fully into his arms.

"……."

Maximilian gazed down blankly at the one who had fallen against his chest.

The eyes that had been squeezed shut in fear slowly opened, and Maximilian's own face was reflected in a pair of beautiful blue eyes that lost none of their light even in the dark of night.

"……I'm, I'm sorry."

The intruder who had caused this commotion in the dead of night was none other than the Duchess of Sheridan herself.

〈This is all your fault!〉

The outer wall, having watched the Duke of Sheridan carry his wife inside the mansion, immediately turned his temper on the inner wall.

The Duke had calmed the knights and soldiers by assuring them "it's nothing at all," then ordered everyone back to their usual posts.

"What now, ringing that thing over nothing?"

"Told you so, didn't I? That thing's a total blockhead."

"Ugh, went bolting out of bed for nothing."

Griping loudly and not bothering to hide it, the soldiers gave the outer wall's bell a few dismissive slaps with the flat of their hands, then withdrew.

〈Do you know what I just had to hear from the soldiers? Why didn't you even notice the Lady wasn't in her room?〉

The outer wall bellowed at the inner wall, but no answer came back at all.

〈Damn it, asleep again. Sleep forever, why don't you! Forever!〉

〈…….〉

〈Still…… that really was a splendid sound, wasn't it.〉

The outer wall turned the ringing over in his memory once more.

It had sounded exactly as clear and bright as it had back when his master was still alive.

〈What good's ringing some bell going to do.〉

He shook off the useless thought at once.

〈As if I'd lift a finger for the likes of humans.〉

No one now remembered his long years of faithful service ringing the guardian bell.

Blockhead. Should've sold him off long ago.

Ring the bell to protect people who said such wretched things about him?

〈Who'd bother? All I want is an eternal sleep—to become an ordinary stone.〉

Even as he said this, the outer wall himself was beginning to feel sleep creeping over him. It was likely because he had used all the mana Clarisse had given him in ringing the bell.

He did not resist the sleep pressing in on him, and let himself drift off, quiet and still.

He had rung the bell one last time—and now he hoped that he would never wake again.

The Duke returned to the mansion carrying his wife.

He hesitated for a moment, but for the first time since his return, he crossed the threshold into his wife's bedroom.

The room had not changed in the slightest from how he had once, adequately, arranged it. The furniture, of course. Down to the paintings and ornaments on the walls. All of it, untouched.

"……."

He looked the room over, then set the Duchess down upon the sofa.

"I'm sorry."

She offered an apology at once. It was already the tenth time or more she had repeated it.

"It's nothing."

He, too, offered the same answer he had already repeated the same number of times.

"I didn't mean to cause any confusion."

"Yes, I know."

Maximilian recalled the spot where she had been discovered.

At that hour, the patrol soldiers had been making their rounds on the opposite side of the grounds.

She had picked a time no one would see her. Under ordinary circumstances, nothing should have gone wrong at all.

"I didn't think the bell would ring like that……"

"If you'll excuse me."

Maximilian knelt on one knee upon the floor and checked her ankle.

It seemed she had grazed it against the sharp fence as she fell—a long scratch mark ran across it.

"It would be best to treat this."

"P-please don't call a maid!"

She answered hurriedly, then pressed a finger near her lips and continued, choosing her words with care.

"Your Grace has already covered for the trouble I've caused. If I ask a servant to treat me, they'll inevitably find out everything."

"I won't……tell anyone."

Maximilian nodded slowly and rose to his feet.

"Thank you."

She quickly bowed her head in thanks. Maximilian only turned away, without a word in reply—though.

He returned to his own room through the door that connected to Brielle's bedroom.

Brielle felt a strange sensation, somehow—for that door had been used, for the first time, in the three years since their marriage.

Until now, she'd all but forgotten a door even stood there at all——

'……His Grace did seem angry.'

Well, of course he would be.

"A duchess, scrambling over walls with no dignity at all—and for an excuse, 'I suddenly remembered I needed to send a letter."

How wretched and pitiful must she have looked to a man who had once been a prince?

He must have thought her a fool who couldn't even entrust the task to a maid.

And yet he hadn't shown the slightest displeasure—he had carried her all the way here himself.

Brielle found herself recalling again the moment she had leaned her full weight against him without meaning to.

How warm and secure it had felt, wrapped so completely by his shoulders and his body……

"I—I've lost my mind!"

Brielle cried out sharply and flung away every last one of those utterly shameful thoughts.

They were married, yes—but only ever by the terms of an arrangement between houses.

'Besides, I'm not even the real one.'

Brielle occupied this position only as a stand-in for the young lady she served, Asella.

Asella had wept before Count Darlington, declaring she would sooner die than be married off to the ruined prince exiled to the Winter Castle like a man cast away in disgrace—and the Count, who doted helplessly on his daughter, had used Brielle, a servant, to grant that impossible request.

Brielle happened to be the perfect person for their purposes. Not only did she share the exact same hair color as Asella, but she also had a sick mother depending on her.

'She'll have all the treatment she needs. You know well enough how skilled the Count's household physician is. Hm?'

The Count's offer was, in substance, little more than a threat. Refuse it, and it was as good as saying harm would come to her mother.

And so the counterfeit Brielle was sent to the Winter Castle of Sheridan, while the real Asella, unbeknownst to anyone, went abroad to study.

'Bear a child quickly. Do that, and I'll adopt you as my own daughter, so you may live out your marriage to the Duke with a proper title. Surely that high-and-mighty prince won't toss aside a woman who's borne his own child, will he.'