Surviving in the Cursed Mansion

Chapter 14: The duchess’ Whereabouts (1)

The mansion always exuded a foreboding atmosphere.

The dim lights and pale colors gave even the air an impression of gloom and dampness.

Currently, however, there was another factor contributing to its eeriness: Asche’s gloomy expression.

It seemed that the events she experienced in the hunting dog’s memory had left her feeling both humiliated and frustrated. Even in the mansion’s desaturated ambiance, her flushed cheeks stood out vividly.

“Asche.”

“…”

“Asche.”

“…”

“If it’s the disgraceful incident in the lounge, I’ve already erased it from my memory. Please don’t let it trouble you.”

“The moment you call it ‘disgraceful,’ I can’t stop thinking about it!”

“A slip of the tongue on my part.”

Asche flared up, fuming angrily. Still, the break in silence helped dispel some of the mansion’s oppressive mood.

“Look. The mist over the stairs to the second floor has lifted.”

“…Oh, you’re right.”

Previously, the stairs leading to the second floor had been obscured by thick mist. Attempts to ascend were futile; the space would distort, bringing you back to the bottom of the stairs.

Apparently, laying the hunting dog’s soul to rest had been the key to clearing the mist.

‘What a strange sensation.’

Even without stepping onto the second floor, I felt as though I already knew its layout. It was as if a latent memory had surfaced.

Perhaps it wasn’t the memory of the soul, but that of the body itself? Whatever the case, it was a phenomenon beyond the comprehension of someone like me, a possessor.

“…Can we go up now?”

“Since the mist has cleared, it should be fine.”

“No, I mean… Are we going to be ambushed the moment we step onto the second floor?”

“If you’re truly concerned, you could always use your butler as a shield.”

“Alright, let’s go!”

With that straightforward solution, Asche gave me a firm shove from behind.

It was a cold and merciless decision, devoid of hesitation.

Perhaps feeling a twinge of guilt, Asche began offering excuses I hadn’t asked for.

“Do you know how hard it was to get another coin? I need to use them sparingly.”

“A wise mindset.”

“Right? Hehe…”

The rewards for putting the hunting dog’s soul to rest had been twofold: the hunting dog’s memory and a gift box.

I vividly recalled the way Asche’s eyes sparkled upon opening the gift box and finding a coin inside.

[“Butler, it’s a coin! My spare life!”]

[“Congratulations.”]

[“And this… Ew, an urn? Why would they give me this?”]

[“The urn contains the cremated remains of the hunting dog.”]

[“Ugh, that’s so creepy! Who gives something like this as a gift?!”]

The urn, unlike the coin, came with no instructions. Likely, it would reveal some special effect once certain conditions were met.

A note attached to the urn offered a vague clue: It asked for forgiveness for “Retia’s mischief.”

‘I think I understand the meaning of her mischief.’

If my guess was correct, it wasn’t time for the urn to fulfill its purpose yet.

As I reminisced about these recent events, Asche gave my back a light push.

“What are you doing, Butler? Let’s go already.”

“…Understood.”

Clunk, clunk.

I ascended the stairs.

For countless years, I had been bound to the mansion’s first floor.

Asche could never understand how monumental it was for me to take even a single step up these stairs.

Worried I might amplify her anxieties, I kept my unease hidden, though a strange ache spread through my chest.

Buried feelings, long suppressed and layered with dust, began to resurface.

Recalling their name proved a challenge.

Joy.

Once, I had called this trembling of the heart by that name.

Before long, we reached the upper landing of the straight, wide staircase.

But just before ascending the final curved steps to the second floor, I stopped in front of a massive portrait hanging on the wall.

“…Wow.”

A gasp escaped nearby—Asche, who had come to stand at my left side.

“I’ve never seen a painting like this, not even when I was diving into historical studies.”

Asche, a princess with a deep appreciation for art, could recognize every item displayed on the first floor. Yet none of those treasures had ever elicited genuine awe from her.

But now, she stared at the towering portrait, utterly captivated.

I lacked Asche’s artistic sensibilities, but I could tell why she was so entranced.

For unforgettable Velnacien Arkaden

[1st Duchess Velnacien Arkaden]

The inscription beneath the frame revealed the painting’s subject:

The mistress of the grand mansion that confined us.

A portrait of Duchess Velnacien Arkaden.

“She’s beautiful…”

Asche murmured unconsciously. Then, as if startled back to reality, she whipped her head toward me.

“Butler? Why are you just standing there?”

Her irritation was plain.

It seemed I, too, had been gazing at the painting for an extended period, just as she had.

It wasn’t because of Duchess Arkaden’s extraordinary beauty…

Of course not.

“…Urgh.”

The excitement that had swelled in my chest while climbing the stairs drained in an instant, replaced by a suffocating weight, as if I were drowning in a deep lake.

Disgust.

That was all it was. But even so, I couldn’t fully grasp what kind of emotion it truly was.

“Haa… Haa… Asche.”

“Yes? Wh-what is it, Butler?”

She sounded flustered, sensing something amiss. Though I was supposed to be her pillar of support…

“…Forgive me. May I borrow your shoulder for a moment?”

“Of course, as much as you need.”

“Thank you.”

As if it had been prearranged, we sat side by side on the stairs, using them as makeshift chairs. I leaned my weight toward Asche, trying to compose myself.

It was an indescribable feeling.

It was as if slumbering memories were being pinned down, unable to awaken. 

At the same time, it felt like a thick wall had been erected in my mind, dividing the boundaries of memory.

[“Butler, you… you’re a clue, aren’t you?”]

Asche’s clumsy deduction brushed against the depths of my consciousness like a fleeting whisper.

***

‘…Huh?’

Asche felt bewildered.

She had intended to reprimand the butler for staring so intently at the portrait.

After all, it annoyed her that someone who had sworn loyalty to her would lose himself over another woman.

But then she noticed something strange about his expression.

She had expected him to be mesmerized, slack-jawed at the duchess’ beauty, but instead, his face was contorted with discomfort, beads of cold sweat trickling down his brow.

And now here they were, in this awkward situation.

Her supposedly loyal servant was leaning against her shoulder, resting as if she were some kind of support pillar.

It had all happened so suddenly that she had agreed before she even realized it.

‘Ugh… I still haven’t forgotten the humiliation from the lounge, and now he’s this close?’

It was awkward. So awkward.

But he genuinely seemed unwell. What could she do?

‘Yeah… there’s no helping it.’

“Butler.”

“…”

“Butler, are you asleep?”

“…”

Unbelievable.

Here he was, sitting on a hard staircase, leaning against his mistress, passed out like some exhausted commoner.

Who was the master here?

Still, with his consciousness absent, her gaze drifted to his hand.

And then, the awkwardness of the moment pried open a path for instinct to creep into her thoughts.

‘It… it felt good.’

She recalled Hayley’s memories.

Specifically, she focused on Maid B’s hands.

While having her head stroked was nice, the way her belly was enthusiastically rubbed was the pinnacle of pleasure.

“…Ahem.”

Turning her gaze discreetly, she reached out and grabbed the butler’s wrist.

She slowly, almost hesitantly, pulled it toward her. In hindsight, it seemed to happen so naturally that she barely realized what she was doing.

Before long, the butler’s palm was resting on her belly. She guided his hand in small, clockwise circles around her navel.

“Ah, mmh…”

A small wave of delight coursed through her spine. It felt strange and left her shivering.

‘But… it’s not enough. Maid B was better… She knew the weak spots and pressed harder…’

Clearly, there were limits to doing it this way.

Her half-lidded eyes and shallow breaths reflected her subdued state. That’s all it amounted to, or so she thought…

She was too engrossed to notice the butler’s sharp gaze fixated on her.

“…Asche?”

“Wha—hiyah?!”

“What are you doing?”

“I-I… uh, well, you see…!”

A deep blush rapidly spread across her face.

It was as if a volcano had erupted, with fiery red hues climbing from her neck to the crown of her head.

The erupting volcano melted away her rationality entirely.

“My stomach…! It hurts…!!!”

Her stomach hurts.

Hurts.

…Hurts.

The phrase echoed in the confines of the mansion, reverberating like a tragic refrain.

The butler, for the first time, asked an idiotic question.

“Do you need to… relieve yourself?”

“Nooo!”

“There’s no need to hide it. Though I understand… While sustenance is unnecessary in the mansion, you might have eaten something outside…”

“I said NO!”

She wanted to die.

She wanted to disappear from sheer embarrassment.

She feared that at this rate, her coins might activate of their own accord, sparing her no mercy.

Death by shame could absolutely count as a legitimate cause in this scenario.

Or perhaps she would preserve her honor by voluntarily ending it herself.

Both were terrible possibilities.

“If you’re uneasy about the second floor, we could always return to the first. Or I could fetch a chamber pot…”

“Shut UP!”

This was madness…

Whether she had borrowed the butler’s hand for pleasure or to alleviate stomach pain, the outcome remained the same:

She had no dignity left!

“Hic… Waaaahhh!”

“Asche!?”

Overwhelmed by emotion, her rationality was swept away in a violent tide. That’s how she would later recount it.

Her figure, fleeing recklessly toward the second floor, appeared unusually small to the butler.

Regardless, the butler had his duties to attend to.

“Asche! No matter how urgent it is, you mustn’t open any door carelessly!”

“Shut up already!”

…

…

When the storm subsided, a chilling stillness lingered on the staircase.

The portrait of the first Duchess—Velnacien Arkaden—remained as striking as ever.

Her previously neutral lips now tilted slightly into a subtle, slanted smile.