RAMHM Chapter 16

The Savior Who Grasped My Hand in the Swamp of Death

Everyone froze at his frost-sharp voice. What had they just heard? The dead Grand Duchess's bedroom filled with every sort of servant. Strip in a place where even an unfamiliar guest was present. The servants' bewildered, frightened gazes turned toward Grand Duke Novian. But he added not one more word.

"Your Grace..."

Unable to bear it, Butler Gaspal quietly called to Novian from behind.

"There are maids present, if you would conduct the search separately..."

"What does that matter?"

"!"

"Whether the vermin is woman or man is irrelevant."

The room's atmosphere sank coldly. Servants who'd worked long at the Grand Ducal estate knew their master's temperament well enough to prepare with resigned faces to strip. But young maids who'd arrived recently clutched their collars tight, teeth chattering audibly. Butler Gaspar twisted his lips in a smile at the sight. He'd pretended to shelter them, but he found this situation highly interesting and entertaining. Eventually the men stripped first. From men with powerful builds to those scrawny and unsightly, as they removed their jackets and laid them on the floor, several old maids naturally began searching through the clothes.

"...Will assigning vermin to search for vermin catch them?"

The unfamiliar noblewoman spoke, watching the scene unfold in the strange tension. Her face was slightly flushed before the men who'd fully removed their upper garments. Strangers might think her embarrassed, but Adrienne wasn't. She was oddly excited right now. Most of the servants here didn't know her face as Grand Duchess. Possible because she'd rarely left the bedroom, attended only by Annie and a few maids. But seeing Annie standing among them, brazenly lifting her face as if utterly innocent, stirred something competitive.

How bold.

"May I take charge of searching the women?"

"!"

Small commotion arose where the maids gathered. Humiliating enough to be body-searched before Novian and the butler—now submit to an unfamiliar noblewoman?

"The butler makes a fair point."

"......"

Novian seemed not to have expected her to step forward, lost for words briefly before opening his mouth.

"Your Grace, even so, this is a household matter..."

At Butler Gaspar's interference, Novian shook his head as if suddenly coming to his senses.

"Madam, please excuse yourself for a moment."

And Adrienne felt Annie's stare boring into her.

I wanted to find it.

My mother's pendant necklace. Everything else was precious too, but the necklace held the only portrait I had of Mother, so I'd treasured it especially.

I walked the vast corridor alone. Strength drained from me. I must have been tense without realizing. I wrapped myself tightly in the black shawl Gaspar had provided and watched from atop the stairs the people who'd come to my memorial gathering. Unaware of what was happening on the second floor, several maids could be seen carrying refreshments.

Besides those in the bedroom, if someone among them has my mother's necklace...

Without Novian knowing, couldn't I pay to get it back? I had jewelry I'd packed generously in my pouch, after all. I descended the stairs carefully, avoiding notice. Fortunately the atmosphere was appropriately noisy—slipping between the enormous statues hid me from anyone's gaze. I approached two maids arranging refreshments nearby and quickly scanned their necks. No trace of wearing a necklace. My necklace had an ordinary chain, so hiding just the pendant would let anyone wear it openly. My face showed clear disappointment as I ducked my head slightly. I'd been trying to keep my face hidden as much as possible.

"Who are you?"

As I tried to examine other maids, one nearby grabbed me abruptly.

"Who are you dressed like this..."

Then seeing my face, her complexion turned ashen.

"Y-Your Gra—"

"No."

Something oddly familiar—this maid must have seen Adrienne's face a few times. Hearing the slight commotion, several other maids surrounded me. The maid who'd grabbed me stared as if seeing a corpse. Fear suddenly gripped me.

"Marie, what's wrong?"

They couldn't quite think me a guest given my ambiguous attire. Perhaps taking me for a musician come to play quietly, or a singer who sometimes performed at memorial gatherings, they showed me no courtesy. Instead, the maid called Marie had frozen solid looking at my face. I'd frozen just as solid.

When only one or two were present it hadn't mattered, but as four or five gathered, I felt my breath catching. The familiar Grand Ducal estate. Familiar whispering. Even those eyes looking at a corpse. Nothing unfamiliar, and simultaneously nothing that didn't hurt.

Pull yourself together. Get it together.

I scanned their necks and tried desperately to breathe normally. Fortunately or unfortunately, none of them wore necklaces. As I placed my hand on my chest to calm myself, I felt my hands and feet trembling. Exactly this atmosphere, surrounded by these maids, suffocating—memories of the day I'd died began boiling in my head.

"Move, move aside..."

"Jasmine! Come here! Here, someone who looks like Her Grace..."

Maids swarmed from nowhere to the corner of the hall. Cold sweat ran down my back. Not from fear of mere maids. Because I vividly remembered that helplessness from back then. The moment of death when opening my eyes showed nothing, opening my mouth produced no sound. That moment felt no longer like the past but reality arriving before my eyes.

"Hah—. Hah—."

"H-hey! Hey, what's wrong!"

"Good Lord, someone call for help!"

A maid's back as she ran off. The murmuring and low gasps from people in maid uniforms. Everything resembled that day. The atmosphere of the day I died. Sinking into deep water where my feet couldn't touch, reaching and reaching yet no one grasping my hand. Cutting and parting the current, never escaping. That swamp of death, cruel only to me. I screamed soundlessly.

Save me...

My hand reached involuntarily toward a maid who seemed not to know my face. If someone would just grasp my hand, I felt I could breathe.

Save me!!

The faces of the maids meeting mine drained of color. Just reach out and grasp my hand—if only that, I could escape this terrible swamp...! My eyes stung. Everything accumulated had begun pooling as bitter tears of resentment.

Save me, please, please!

And the moment my vision began to blur. Everything before my eyes went completely black. Someone's presence approached from behind, covering something over my head. Warm, large hands grasped my arm that had been groping the air. An unfamiliar touch. The faint scent of medicinal herbs, cigars, and lavender mixed strangely. A familiar fragrance.

Impossible.

"...You seem to need help."

A whisper low enough for only me to hear. My arms that had been flailing through the air were held docilely in his hands. Like at the victory ceremony, his hands pressed more firmly down on my bound arms behind me—warm but insistent, without hurting.

"Will you take my hand?"

The nauseating word help felt like the only lifeline. At the savior's voice in the darkness, I swallowed the choking sensation and nodded.

"...Remember, you asked for help yourself."

As I nodded vigorously again, my bound arms immediately released with a snap. Simultaneously hot hands slid naturally down my arms and grasped my hand from behind. Hands far too large for mine. Definitely the same suffocation, the same pounding as when experiencing death, but—

"Does the Grand Ducal estate treat guests this way?"

Grasping that hand, I felt yanked instantly from the swamp of death. The low resonant voice that had kept me tense began strangely calming my heart. As my precariously swaying body leaned back against his solid, massive frame, my pounding heart astonishingly quieted. The white jacket he always wore. The one that glittered gold, densely packed with decorations—it wrapped around my head.

"Y-Y-Your Imperial Highness..."

"Tell the Grand Duke."

Peering outside through gaps in the jacket, one nearby maid began stammering, recognizing him with those red eyes. Over his body touching my back, a cold, low voice flowed out.

"The Empire's Star has arrived—he should properly show his face and pay respects."

At the words 'Empire's Star,' the maids surrounding me scattered in a different panic. Fearing punishment, they fled instantly, crying apologies repeatedly.

'Hah—.'

As their footsteps faded, I exhaled the breath that had been blocked. Strong arms held me tight, having somehow lowered the jacket to my shoulders.

"...Are you all right?"

A breathtakingly beautiful sculpture. And embedded in that sculpture's face, a pair of eyes like fresh blood from a newly killed beast, directed at me.

"Your color is poor."

Rhodness, expression rigid. As expected, it was him.

"The Lord's blessing! I greet the Second Imperial Prince, the Empire's great Star!"

Butler Gaspar raced over swiftly to receive the distinguished guest. Feeling his throat constrict, Rhodness loosened his cravat lightly without taking his gaze from the pale Countess, and spoke.

"Your master?"

"W-well. I'm sorry, but... currently my master has some business..."

"You take a long time to say you want to die."

Gaspar's hands instinctively reached for his own throat. Without realizing, his eyes went to the sword brazenly at the beautiful Prince's side, who was called the Imperial troublemaker. Glancing up, the Prince's face was utterly frigid.

What on earth is happening all day today!

The Grand Duke furious in his own way, and this uninvited Prince suddenly materializing—equally lethal.

"Summon your master immediately."

"Y-yes!"

Gaspar retreated quickly. The Grand Duke's message asking to wait briefly had become useless.

"Thank you, thank you, Your Highness."

I thanked him, seeming somewhat better than before. But my body still trembled finely. Rhodness stared at me almost glaring, conscious of the gazes pouring from around us.

"I'm fine now, so whatever you were doing..."

"I hope you haven't forgotten."

I looked up at Rhodness, fully suppressing the fear that had now subsided. He looked angry.

'If the words "do you need help" come from your mouth one more time...'

'Then you'll have to say yourself precisely what kind of help you need.'

Our recent conversation surfaced suddenly.