Chapter 66: Chapter 60

“Who is this?” Beth asked, raising her eye in question. The flickering light of the mana lamp shrouded her silhouette, and I channelized some into the lamp so that the booth brightened marginally.

“Cair, lady Beth,” Garlan said respectfully from his seat. In all honesty, he should have been standing, but my lady and Beth didn’t mind, and neither did he.

“And why are these three fools here?” Beth glared at her admirers, whose faces held unconcealed admiration.

“These bastards licked my boots to come here, lady Beth,” Cair replied, casting them a repulsive glance. “I hadn’t told them that I had trudged through horseshit, though.”

“And him?” Beth finally eyed the merchant with abhorrence.

“No idea why he is here,” Garlan answered again, gesturing for Maluich to open the door.

The room was cramped with nine people, and fortunately, Casey wasn’t here to overcrowd the place and witness the rotting stench from the filthy clothes of mercenaries and merchants alike. My lady and I were standing opposite Garlan along with Beth, who was trying to break open the wall on her back. Quite literally, because she had been leaning so hard against the green-splotched walls for a while now.

“Let’s get out of here, mongrel,” my lady mumbled on my napkin. I was holding it over her mouth to ward off the stench, which didn’t help much in her breathing.

“Don’t leave me alone, Leti!” Beth feigned a horrified look until my lady acquiesced with much resistance. Her hands clutched her outer garment as if she was exerting every effort not to barge out of the room.

The dark clouds loomed on the sky, masking the orange glare of the setting sun. The mana lamp on the ceiling glowed brightly now, the embroidered veil on the front of the booth wide open to aid in ventilation. Even Garlan must have felt the stench, for he had hidden his bread packets in haste for fear of losing their fresh scent.

Maluich had added an extra layer of clothing to his already threadbare tunic, which looked in worse shape. And dingier. Probably the source of the rotting stench in the booth, but he didn’t seem to mind inconveniencing others. Bearing with it was our only way out, but no malodor was too thick for this undead. I had watched the entire process of a corpse rotting after all. And I sincerely don’t recommend it.

“You need to be here tomorrow, sharp at sunset with the awnings. Get a mason or whomever you want, but I need you to finish assembling by morning. We aren’t paying you six thousand shins for idling around,” Beth said, forgiving Garlan her repelling stares. “And if I hear any rumor about the event before the day of the fair, you’ll lose your heads. None among the nobility would grace the fair, so be sure to let the commoners wreak mayhem tomorrow. Garlan would tell you the details about the fair.”

Cair gulped at Beth’s threats, even though the latter was half her age. The merchant was unaffected, and he lazily leaned against the doorframe, already used to the empty intimidation in the gallows. However, he would lose his head soon, should he decide to act obnoxious. The three clowns were the most excited ones, and they bobbed their heads at Beth’s command without any refute.

The conversation divulged to discussion amongst the commoners, so we ambled out of the booth after blithely avoiding the rotting stench of the merchant’s shabby coat. Beth split up from us at the Academy gates, and we ambled back to the residence. My lady held my gloved hand discreetly throughout the journey, glancing around the busy streets with her lively gaze. The darkness had started pervading the capital and most of the stores, and man lamps glowed brightly in the quiet ambiance of the winter night.

We reached the western courtyard devoid of interruptions from Marlica or her two daughters. I couldn’t quite understand their silence. Weren’t they supposed to kick us out of the mansion by scheming once the Marquis died? They might be scared of my lady’s legitimate status, or the Marquis might have ordered them not to touch my lady. Was he perhaps alive and not senile? I didn’t give eight shins about the man, so I let him be for now.

The peaceful walk was accompanied by the horrendous stares of the maids, which had intensified since my lady had attained new statuses for herself. Getting married out at the earliest was out of the question, so I even saw pity in the eyes of old servants. Ignorant women thought marriage was all a lady of nobility could count on, but little did they know about my grand plans for my lady. She was destined to stand on top and not become some horny man’s relishing tool. The world made her a villain, so I’ll show it the product of their witlessness.

“My room, Rudolf,” my lady said as we walked through the deserted corridor of the western courtyard. The dust and cobwebs had accumulated around the entire premises since Beth and Casey hadn’t visited us for the second round of cleaning, and the spiders were reaping benefits with their gleaming red eyes. Mana lamps hadn’t been lighted in ages, and we didn’t either, for my lady rarely strolled around in the pitch of the night.

I had changed the lock right after Brackett’s disappearance, so only my lady and I shared the keys now. She was particularly adamant about having a key to my door, and I had acquiesced, for I didn’t have anything to hide except for my giant storage of bread.

The door creaked open, and my lady’s green frock got caught under her shoes, and she almost fell to the floor face first. My hands were faster since this my body had great reflexes despite the grey hair, and she collapsed on my arms. Snuggling in my embrace with rosy ears was a tangible outcome and my lady wrapped her hands around my waist before closing the door behind us with her left foot. I patted her head and tried to pull away, but her grip only tightened. I even felt her nails digging my waist, which served as a reminder to trim them.

“You left me alone today,” she said, burying her head in my chest. I sighed and illuminated the exquisite chandelier adorning the plain roof before lighting up the wall lamps scattered erratically in the room. Her lavish curtains fluttered close to the window, for she had left them open much to my dismay. Anyone could have climbed to the room through the opening, for we were still on the ground floor and devoid of friendly neighbors.

“It’s because you are growing up, my lady,” I ruffled her hair as she pulled away and glanced at me, using me as the target for her accusing gaze. “You need to become independent, Letitia. I might not always stay right beside you.”

“Mongrel!” she strained her toes considerably and bit my neck hard. I wiped her lips when she pulled back, and her cheeks changed shades almost instantly. She was incoherent when she continued, but the anger in her voice hadn’t subsided in the least. “Are you going to break your promise?! Bastard! I will tie you down tonight! You–“

“When I am out to gather some shins or slaughter some ignorant mortals or gone away to decorate the fair, you need to stay alone,” I smiled at her. “I don’t want you on streets like last time and never in the rain. So, you need to get used to not having me around at times. We undead always keep our promises, my lady.”

Her pursed lips relaxed, and she moved back to my embrace, and I felt warmth emanating from her. Well, at least I wasn’t cold anymore.

“Do you want me to bring you dinner, my lady?” I asked as I removed the barrette on her hair.

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“Mmm,” she mumbled, touching my bleeding neck. “Does it hurt?”

I laughed. “You don’t want me to heal it, right?”

She nodded, tracing her fingers over my neck, then through my jawline, until I pulled away. “Who knows how many women laid their dirty stares on you today? I should make some scars on your face!”

I laughed and took a step back, a tad forcefully this time.

“I’ll get some soup for you,” I added and ambled out of the room before she could start fawning me more. As much indifference as I liked to feign, I was not immune to her remarks. I felt conflicted at this mortal body’s elation at being called beautiful, I dreaded this mortal body’s happiness at being accepted, and I was aversive to the way my lady was affecting me. None of it was in my grand scheme of machinations, and my revived emotions were to blame. Was this the cost I had to pay for getting rid of boredom?

Nevertheless, it made perfect sense according to the logic of the world. I could transmigrate if I became bored to regain my stunted emotions after witnessing the world through a fresh lens. If I grew overly attached to the world, I could live for two more millennia until carcasses decked the streets, and emptiness invaded me again, forcing me to disconnect with the world. Transmigrate again, and continue the cycle indefinitely. Perhaps, this was the survival strategy of [Undead] spell, but I didn’t want to turn back to a pathetic being with unwarranted feelings that did more harm than good.

Undead with feelings is not undead. Because apathy makes me what I am and not who.

The kitchen still had some untouched dishes. They were meant for maids, but my lady wasn’t picky about food. I fished out a few loaves of bread and lay down two bowls on the tray before filling them up with curry. Usually, finding bread in the main kitchen was more challenging than finding pearls in the sea, so I was lucky today. I wrote my exploits in the notebook meant to document the food expenses, and some voices naturally made their way to the kitchen. I wasn’t eavesdropping, mind you, because my [Devil eye] does that job.

“Did you hear the rumors? I heard lady Letitia poisoned the Prince to death because she did not want to marry him.”

That was new because I had slit the throat of the Prince and burned him alive. Poison? That was a cheap way to kill and one meant for schemers. I, for the generous undead I was, did it the hard way, and a more painful way for blood splashes could me feel ecstatic.

“It doesn’t surprise me,” the second voice said. It was toward the softer side, more than the previous one, though both belonged to maids. “She was always unruly and traitorous by nature, so I wouldn’t be surprised even if she killed the lady of the manor.”

“Then why hasn’t she been punished yet?” the first voice asked again.

I used a tea-spoon to get some more curry in the bowl. I wasn’t eavesdropping, you see. Even scooping curry takes time.

“Do the people of nobility ever get punished?!” the second voice grunted. They were probably in the adjacent room and had forgotten to close the door completely. “It’s so unfair, but we commoners cannot do anything about it! Lady Letitia is a slut, and she dares act like a noblewoman!”

I dropped my spoon and picked up the tray. A walk around the large table in the center took longer than I had expected. I put off the flame in the fireplace with [Splash] and made the entire vicinity dripping wet. That should do the job; I grinned and scurried out of the room.

With a thought, I paused at the door and knocked it slightly, but the door creaked open, and I saw the maids on each other atop the bed in the small room. They appeared terrified at my presence and quickly sat straight, thankfully dressed.

“The Prince didn’t die of poisoning. And please close the door before you decide to try out stuff or badmouth, my lady. You never know when you might lose your heads.” I said with a smile that stilled them instantly. I would let them live in fear for the rest of their time in the mansion. That was why I vaguely addressed the activity they were indulged in. Nothing much when compared to Beth and Casey, but enough for them to fear getting sold to distant parts of the kingdom.

As for who spread the rumor about my lady, it was as evident as dough turning to bread after baking. Sisters existed for a reason, after all.

When I returned to my room, my lady had changed to her nightgown, a cream-colored forearm length single piece that covered her entire body. It was loose enough, and she loved the comfort the thin gowns offered.

“Brush your teeth before going to bed, my lady. I’ll collect the tray after having my dinner,” I said and turned to walk out of the door. She had started to fall asleep without the immortal bedtime story, so I often gave her some lone time before bed. She usually practiced in solitude, and I didn’t want to disrupt her focus because my presence adversely affected her.

“Mongrel,” she called out.

“Yes, my lady,” I turned around, but she pecked my cheeks real quick. I had avoided her lips.

“My Rudolf,” she ran her hands through my hair and pulled them, exerting all her strength. “Don’t avoid me!”

Did bald undead sound suspicious? Because I was indeed becoming one if she became stronger in the future.