Go back?
Recalling the eerie sounds behind the door after leaving her room, Rosie felt a deep reluctance to return.
Yet, the outside was hardly safe either; the seductive whispers from deep within her mind while climbing the ladder were not to be underestimated.
The entire castle was fraught with danger—one misstep could lead to eternal ruin.
Rosie weighed her options.
With the parchment’s warning in mind, since both inside and outside the room were equally perilous, she could only choose the lesser evil.
“Well then, good luck, Miss Carter.”
While she was thinking, the others had already started moving.
Herman Rhys gave Hannah a less-than-standard knight’s salute, then turned, waved casually with his back to the group, and swaggered out of the room.
Dwight Nell first expressed his blessings to the baron’s daughter, then bowed slightly.
“I’ll take my leave.”
Following his departure, Bev Hardy and Jesse Holmes said their goodbyes one after another.
Hannah Carter smiled at Rosie, then turned to her bodyguard and instructed, “Mr. Sandek, please look after Rosie and escort her safely back to her room.”
Dennis Sandek nodded without unnecessary words.
Rosie felt touched but also guilty, as she wasn’t the real Rosie Moulton and couldn’t fully accept this kindness.
Should she leave the gun or dagger with Hannah for self-defense?
But she still had to return to her room, and with so many unknowns, an extra tool meant an extra chance at survival.
In that moment of hesitation, she missed her chance to speak.
“Let’s go, Miss Moulton.”
Dennis’s voice sounded beside her.
As she left the room, Rosie glanced back. Hannah stood by the table, one hand on her abdomen, the other waving slightly.
“See you tomorrow, Rosie.”
***
The journey back through the underground corridor was smoother than expected.
When climbing down the ladder, the candles held in the lion statues’ mouths had been replaced at some point, burning quietly with orange flames.
Without Hannah, the social expert, and with Donahue Bobby’s earlier “abandonment” during Dwight’s stance, the atmosphere was awkward, and no one spoke along the way.
The three walked in silence until they reached the fork where they had met earlier.
“Well, I’ll take my leave.”
Donahue pointed to the right corner, then hurriedly left without looking at the others’ reactions.
“You can go too, Mr. Sandek. My room’s just a short distance away; you don’t need to escort me.”
Rosie spoke first, worried he’d insist on fulfilling Hannah’s request.
With a dagger and revolver on her, having someone nearby made her feel constrained.
Dennis Sandek nodded slightly. “Alright, Miss Moulton.”
Perhaps because of his lady’s request to look after her, the bodyguard’s tone and attitude were less cold and formal than when they first met, now more respectful.
After parting with the bodyguard, Rosie quickly returned to her room.
At the door, she lit the candles on the three-pronged candelabra, then rolled up her left sleeve, revealing a smooth forearm and the leather sheath strapped tightly to her skin.
She pursed her lips, exhaled, and steadied her pounding heart, which roared like a steam engine, while touching the cold handle of the dagger.
If only she could parry and fight like in a game.
Leon, save me!
Rosie muttered to herself, then steeled her nerves, gritted her teeth, and pulled the door open from the outside.
The moment it opened, she braced the door with her foot, charged in sideways with the candelabra raised, her right hand holding the dagger in front, the cold metal slicing through the air with a silent, deadly sound.
Rosie moved so fast that the candelabra left an orange trail of flame.
In the flickering light, her face was unclear, but her misty blue eyes, reflecting the candle’s fire, glinted with a bloodthirsty hue.
Silence.
Stillness.
Her ears buzzed faintly from the intense pressure.
Rosie didn’t relax her grip on her body, cautiously stepping into the room.
As the door closed behind her, her heart leapt to her throat.
There was definitely another “presence” in the room.
The rustling sounds of rummaging she’d heard before leaving still gnawed at her nerves.
The unknown was terrifying. Compared to her current situation, Rosie would rather face the eyeless woman again—at least that was something tangible.
Scanning the room, everything was as she’d left it: the half-height cabinet, the luxurious bed, the tightly drawn curtains.
Rosie lowered her eyes, made no extra movements, and strode to the bed.
Without removing her boots, she sat upright, blew out the candles, and lay flat on her back.
Of course, she didn’t loosen her grip on the dagger.
She’d follow the parchment’s instructions for now and see if she could safely make it through the night until the bell rang.
Part of her hoped the parchment’s words were true, while another part wished this so-called redemption ritual was just a hoax.
Hannah, sigh.
With mixed emotions, the girl on the bed closed her eyes.
Time dragged on endlessly in the silent environment.
Rosie didn’t know how long she lay there.
In such a high-pressure state, let alone falling asleep, she couldn’t even relax, only mentally rehearsing how to respond if something went wrong.
“Squeak—”
In the empty, silent room, the sound was like a thunderclap.
Someone opened the door?!
Rosie gripped her dagger tightly, about to open her eyes to check the door when a line flashed in her mind.
“Before the bell rings, no matter what sounds are heard or what is encountered, do not open your eyes.”
She clenched her jaw, suppressing the urge to get up, keeping her eyes shut and staying silent, pretending she hadn’t heard the door.
“Step, step, step.”
The sound of footsteps pounded on Rosie’s heart, growing heavier and heavier, almost suffocating her.
After a brief silence, the room filled with faint, overlapping voices.
People, many people, their chatter as chaotic and dense as if she were at a banquet.
But the language was incomprehensible to Rosie, belonging neither to Lin Yu’s past life nor to Rosie Moulton’s knowledge.
Wave after wave of meaningless whispers flooded her ears, clouding her thoughts, blurring her consciousness.
Rosie was going mad, driven insane by the “chatter”!
She couldn’t take it anymore—another second, and neither Lin Yu nor Rosie Moulton would exist!
Just as she resolved to open her eyes and fight, a loud “Dong—!”
A long, resonant bell tolled in her ears.