Chapter 13: 7.1

Roseline sat staring out the window. The sky was clear.

Contrary to the expectation that if he had brought her here because he needed her help, and he’d come back and ask for what he wanted, the Grand uke had not come back after leaving the room that day.

“Though this room sure is luxurious…” muttered Roseline.

She’d been taught that prestigious aristocratic families usually left their mansions in the capital, but the Postenmeyer family even had a villa. The bedroom was even more than twice the size of the Crimson Rose mansion, and unlike what she’d expected—that there would be a small bathtub beyond the partition—the sizes of the bathroom and bedroom were similar. On top of that, there was a separate living room so they could do their respective duties or entertain their guests.

Though Roseline was in a locked-away position, there were no documents or guests for her to see.

The door isn’t even locked… and I still can’t leave…

The soft bed and the large window receiving the sunlight at the other end of the bedroom and the food she received when it was time to eat were not bad, but whenever she tried to leave, a platinum blonde knight named Nicholas blocked her path. She thought he was a sentinel, but he didn’t actually let her go out of the room, but he didn’t monitor her inside the room either.

Heinz was sociable and friendly, so although it was hard to hear the replies she wanted, conversing with him was not difficult, but Nicholas was always silent except when he said what was really necessary. At first, she’d wondered if he was a mute.

Even the other employees were distant. Catalina, one of Roseline’s maids, changed the sheets or brought her water whenever she asked for it, but that was it. There was never any reply whenever Roseline asked her where the Grand Duke was, when she could meet him, or how her mother and brother Alfons were doing. All she did was tend to Roseline with her mouth shut.

After seeing them do only what they were set to do, Roseline had even become curious if someone had put a spell on them, turning them into moving wax figures.

“Whew…”

Roseline lay on her bed again, with no choice but to go to sleep since she wasn’t doing anything.

How can I nap like this when I’ve never even slept here before? Oh, that must explain why I have been having weird dreams.

She’d started having strange weird dreams from the day she’d heard that her father died. Weirder than the contents of the dreams was the location.

The dreams aren’t bad, but I don’t know the reason.

Normally it was natural for dreams to be groundless, but she couldn’t help but ponder since she’d had the same one over and over.

I hope I dream of something else this time.

Feeling restless, Roseline closed her eyes.

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In her dream, she was standing in a mysterious room—a room with large windows that stretched along the round walls to the hemispherical-shaped ceiling. The windows were wide open with no glasses, so she could see out of them clearly, and everything above and below her was as dark as the night outside—like she’d been thrown into the cosmos. The floor was made up of black and white square tiles, almost like a chessboard.

And the most unusual thing of them all…

The huge clock is in the center of the room. With no outer cover, the exposed golden cogwheels were rotating together. On top of there being no numbers on the face, there were only two same-sized minute hands, so she couldn’t tell which one pointed to the seconds and which one pointed to the minutes. But it was merely a dream—it was meaningless to know the time.

What in the world kind of room was this? And why did Roseline keep having such a meaningless dreams?

She stared blankly at the stars outside the window. The stars twinkled as her eyes fell on them. As if they were looking her way. If she were to peep in from the outside, she could observe what went on inside since there wasn’t a single place to hide due to it being open on all sides. Though there wouldn’t be anything to observe.

When she thought of that she heard a voice calling her from somewhere.

Roseline.

It was the voice of a young boy. It wasn’t her brother Alfons.

“Who is it?”

The holder of the voice didn’t appear when she asked. Instead, it called her name again.

Please wait, Roseline.

Wait for what? All she was doing was standing quietly. She looked around but saw nothing. Was it because the room was open on all sides? She couldn’t even tell from which direction the voice was coming from.

Roseline, I must… do that, so… so, then… can you do that for me?

It was cut off in the middle, so she couldn’t understand what he was saying. But the boy was speaking desperately as if begging her.

I will save you. So please wait for me.

She heard the last part clearly.

Hold on. The last part?

As soon as she realized it, she got a feeling as if the scenery in her dream was distorted and she was being sucked somewhere.

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