chapter 8
“...Sister.”
“Remember this well: if anyone sees your face, I’ll kill every last one of them. If you’re curious whether I’m serious or lying, feel free to walk around without your mask and find out.”
Desdemona had threatened Fiorentia and, at the same time, completely cut off her social interactions.
The only concession she granted was that Fiorentia could move freely around the mansion as long as she wore a mask.
She acted as though such generosity was more than enough.
However, Desdemona absolutely could not tolerate any damage being done to Fiorentia’s face.
After all, the face Desdemona wore was nothing more than a copy of Fiorentia’s.
To other people, it was essentially a kind of illusion.
Because of that, if Fiorentia’s face were damaged, the same injury would appear on Desdemona’s face as well.
A perfectionist and an aesthete, Desdemona considered such flaws unacceptable. So, even when she punished Fiorentia, she generally avoided touching her face as long as she was borrowing it.
Instead—though “instead” might not be the right word—she tormented Fiorentia psychologically by forcing her to witness all sorts of vile and horrifying scenes.
The original Fiorentia had been so terrified of Desdemona that she would tremble just from being near her.
But Desdemona knew the truth.
No matter how often she gazed into the mirror and admired herself, that beauty was not truly hers.
And so her desire only grew stronger.
She wanted to possess Fiorentia’s face for real.
That was why she threw herself even more passionately into experiments aimed at separating souls from bodies.
Officially, it was all in service to the Imperial Family.
In reality, it was little more than satisfying her own selfish desires.
“Don’t touch her. Come over here.”
The moment the quiet whisper reached her ears, Fiorentia snapped out of her thoughts.
One maid was pulling another away from Fiorentia as though protecting her from contamination.
Watching the servants avoid her with almost excessive caution, Fiorentia pressed her lips together.
She didn’t feel good about it, but neither did she have any desire to show it or point out their rudeness.
Yes. This amount of distance is better.
It might make things harder for her, but she couldn’t afford to create loyal followers.
She didn’t want to trust someone only to be betrayed later, nor did she want to create weaknesses for herself.
More than anything, Fiorentia wanted to leave this place as quickly as possible.
But where am I supposed to go?
Having lived almost like a prisoner in the annex, she had rarely visited the main mansion.
As a result, she had no idea where the entrance to the underground prison was.
I’ll probably have to ask someone for help...
But she couldn’t just stop anyone and ask questions. That would only invite suspicion.
And that was the quickest way to attract Desdemona’s displeasure.
Just then, she spotted the butler descending the stairs.
Preoccupied with the documents in his hands, he had not yet noticed her.
Fiorentia quickly walked over to him.
“Ah, Butler. Good timing. Now I won’t have to trouble myself with going all the way to your office.”
“...Miss Fiorentia? What brings you here?”
Startled by the sudden greeting, the butler stopped walking. Once he recognized her, his expression immediately soured.
Fiorentia ignored his reaction entirely and got straight to the point.
“I’d like to know where the underground prison is. Better yet, you can take me there yourself.”
“Why are you suddenly looking for the underground prison?”
“Why? You’ve probably already heard. Last night my sister assigned me to treat that beast.”
“Ah.”
The butler nodded in understanding.
“So that’s what this is about. But haven’t you already finished treating him?”
Fiorentia nodded.
“I want to check on his condition. So I’d appreciate it if you guided me there.”
Yet the butler’s frown remained.
If he wasn’t willing to escort her, he could at least tell her where it was. His reluctance and stalling were beginning to irritate her.
“Is there really any need to go that far? For someone who’s only...”
The butler trailed off, but somehow Fiorentia felt as though she had heard the rest of the sentence anyway.
He was undoubtedly wondering whether it was worth providing so many conveniences for someone whom Desdemona intended to toy with only briefly.
Fiorentia sneered inwardly.
Go ahead and live like that until it gets you killed.
If she acted on impulse, she would have clicked her tongue and unleashed a biting insult.
Instead, she forced herself to endure it and play along.
Speaking gently, she tried again.
“You’re right. No, you’re absolutely right. But, Butler, think about it.”
She stepped closer to him.
The butler flinched at the sudden reduction in distance, but unlike the other servants, he did not step back.
Lowering her voice as though sharing a tremendous secret, Fiorentia whispered:
“Try to understand my sister’s true intentions. You’re good at that sort of thing, aren’t you?”
Was it really wise to take Desdemona Marcella’s words entirely at face value?
The moment she subtly raised that point, the butler’s eyes wavered.
Behind her mask, Fiorentia smiled alluringly and continued in an even softer voice.
“My sister loves beautiful things. She may not care how damaged that beast becomes mentally, but wouldn’t she want him to remain physically perfect?”
“...”
“Think about what happened to the maids who damaged my sister’s belongings. Surely you haven’t forgotten. After all, you were the one who had to clean up the aftermath.”
Desdemona’s obsession with beauty was pathological.
If a piece of porcelain had even the tiniest air bubble, she couldn’t tolerate it. If a picture frame had a scratch thinner than an eyelash, she would find it without fail.
And whenever that happened, it was the servants who suffered.
“How dare you bring defective goods into my room?! How could you put this trash in front of my eyes?!”
The butler swallowed hard.
Nothing had actually happened yet, but merely imagining one of Desdemona’s hysterical outbursts seemed enough to make him sick.
He looked convinced.
Only then did Fiorentia feel slightly triumphant and gesture with her chin for him to lead the way.
“Please follow me.”
Far more cooperative than before, the butler turned and started walking.
Following behind him, Fiorentia thought:
Just as I expected.
Apparently, Theodore’s imprisonment was a secret known to only a very small number of people, even within the main mansion.
Good. At least they’re making an effort to hide it.
That was beneficial for Fiorentia as well.
The fewer people who knew, the harder it would be for Desdemona to track Theodore down after he escaped.
To avoid attracting the servants’ attention, the two moved quietly and took a roundabout route.
A short while later, they arrived at a small side door connected to the sewer system behind the mansion.
It was on the northern side, where sunlight never reached, leaving the area perpetually in shadow.
Directly in front of the entrance was a stagnant puddle ideal for flies to lay eggs in. Around it were piles of broken furniture and discarded building materials.
The place was shabby and filthy beyond words.
No one would willingly approach such a location.
I see. No wonder nobody wants to come near it.
Even as she understood the reasoning, she mocked it inwardly.
Anyone paying a little attention would immediately realize something was strange.
This mansion belonged to Desdemona.
Even if this corner was out of sight, considering her obsessive cleanliness, it was hard to believe she would allow a place to become this neglected.
On top of that, the area carried the musty smell unique to locations that had gone days without sunlight.
Fiorentia desperately wanted to pinch her nose shut.
But with the mask covering her face, that was impossible.
Instead, she pressed her lips together and held her breath.
Perhaps her disgust was still visible, because the butler hurried his movements.
“This is the entrance to the underground prison.”
“I see.”
“Please, go inside.”
Holding the door open, the butler gestured toward the darkness beyond.