Surviving in the Cursed Mansion

Chapter 15: The duchess’ Whereabouts (2)

Second Floor of the Mansion – Central Hallway.

Unlike the first floor, the second floor had a starkly uniform appearance.

While the first floor boasted a variety of artistic treasures, the second floor was sparse. 

The hallway was devoid of sculptures or intricate decor, lined only with a series of framed paintings on the walls.

For Asche, who prided herself on her knowledge of art, it was astounding.

Each painting in the frames bore the signature of a historically renowned artist. 

Yet, not a single one of these works had been preserved in any records passed down to the present.

“My goodness… If you’d told me this was an art gallery and not a mansion, I might have believed you, Butler.”

“I’ve been curious for a while now—do you enjoy art, Asche?”

“Of course I do. Art might be the domain of commoners, but… honestly, I’ve always envied them a little.”

As a member of the imperial family, Asche was part of the ruling elite, the ones meant to enjoy art rather than create it. 

Her role was to appraise the works of her subordinates with pride and detachment.

But Asche’s perspective was different.

She wanted to embrace art not as a mere pastime, but as a true calling. Not just to idly paint still lifes, but to achieve something greater.

“Hehe… It’s a ridiculous notion, isn’t it? Who would dare evaluate the art of a royal objectively? If I were to paint a single dot on a canvas, people would assign all kinds of profound meaning to it.”

“Oh…”

The butler let out a quiet gasp. Surprisingly, Asche had hit upon the essence of modern art.

“What about you, Butler?”

“Me?”

“Do you have anything you’d like to try? Not that it’s possible in this wretched mansion, but… what if you could leave someday?”

“I…”

He faltered.

The fire that once fueled his passions had long since burned out.

With his desiccated spirit, all that remained was a yearning for death.

Still… if he looked back to his life before he was invited to this mansion…

“…Maybe cooking. I think I would have liked cooking.”

“Cooking, huh… It’s hard to tell if it suits you or not.”

“When cooking alone, there’s no one to argue with. It brings peace of mind.”

As an added bonus, he remembered how his lips used to curl into a subtle smile whenever someone praised his food with joy.

Those memories, faint and ephemeral like mist, might be nothing more than romanticized recollections.

Perhaps it was just the answer of someone wringing water from a dry cloth.

As he brushed aside the trivial conversation in his mind, Asche stopped in front of a painting depicting a temple.

“…Oh, I know this one.”

“Impressive.”

“Hehe.”

The painting, painted in shades of pure white and platinum, had a short inscription at the bottom:

The abandoned witch will cast down the seventy-two stars that shine by the side of the wicked ruler. Let them face the price of their arrogance.

It was an ominous and grandiose passage.

However, its meaning was difficult to interpret, so the butler asked her.

“You said you recognized this painting. Can you tell me what the inscription means?”

“Sure, that’s easy enough… But it’s a little different from what I know.”

“Different, you say?”

“Yes. It’s definitely different. The version I learned didn’t have any negative phrases like ‘wicked’ or ‘price of arrogance.’”

Though she found it odd for a moment, Asche quickly arrived at an explanation.

“Well, of course. They wouldn’t pass down anything that insulted the imperial family without editing it first…”

“So, ‘wicked ruler’ is a term that refers to royalty?”

“Exactly. This was a prophecy made by the temple to the imperial family long ago.”

The butler nodded, finding it plausible.

If Asche were to ascend to the throne, she might be seen as a wicked ruler, a symbol of human arrogance. Her older siblings weren’t likely to be any different.

“You’re giving me a rather disrespectful look, Butler.”

“Not at all.”

“Tch.”

Asche’s perception was sharp, especially when it came to detecting insults directed at her. Her ability to sense such things bordered on mind-reading.

When the butler adamantly denied her accusation, Asche pouted and began an impromptu history lecture.

“This prophecy was made about 500 years ago. Back then, the Epelante Empire was a massive superpower. It was so strong that even if all the nations of the continent united against it, they would’ve been no match.”

“Epelante Empire…”

The name felt oddly familiar, though there was no time to explore the source of that familiarity as Asche continued her tale.

“The emperor who brought the empire to its peak had seventy-two knights under his command, each one a superhuman beyond the limits of ordinary men. They were granted titles distinct from the traditional nobility. People called them the Star Knights.”

The Star Knights, so named because they lit the empire’s path like stars.

These knights, given titles equivalent to marquesses, were unparalleled in power.

Even with seventy-two of them, the empire was at peace.

“But then, one day, a witch appeared. The entire empire was thrown into chaos.”

“Are witches different from mages?”

“mages manipulate mana within themselves or in the air, casting spells using calculated formulas. Witches, on the other hand, wield unique powers without the need for mana or calculations—or so the books say.”

“You’ve never seen one yourself, then?”

“Of course not. If a witch had appeared again, the empire would already be gone.”

“…Are they that powerful?”

“According to ancient records, nations cursed by a witch didn’t last three days before collapsing. Even if it’s an exaggeration, it’s terrifying, isn’t it?”

Asche described witches as forces of nature, disasters unto themselves.

The outcome of the events 500 years ago now seemed clearer.

“The Star Knights must have perished in a mutual annihilation with the witch.”

“Exactly. Their noble sacrifice allowed the empire to survive—though it weakened significantly, losing much of its territory…”

Although her ancestors ruled the empire, betrayed or not, Asche’s voice carried a tinge of bitterness as she concluded her story.

“That’s what history teaches us, but… doesn’t it stink of deception?”

“If we assume the mansion presents the truth, it’s hard to dismiss the possibility that the empire’s history has been sanitized.”

The abandoned witch. The wicked ruler. The price of arrogance.

The murky shadows of the distant past. These, too, were mysteries tied to the mansion that Asche would have to unravel.

She had a hunch that the erased records of Arkaden and the distorted prophecies of the past were connected.

“…Sometimes, I wonder.”

Asche spoke again.

“The empire of 500 years ago was truly incredible. In addition to the seventy-two Star Knights, it even had a hero protecting it.”

“A hero?”

The unfamiliar term prompted the butler to ask, though in hindsight, Asche had mentioned it before.

[“Sigh, what choice do I have? Expecting anything from commoners is pointless. Just leave it to me, the top student in swordsmanship class. I’ll sweep them all away, just like the hero from long ago.”]

He’d dismissed it as her projecting herself onto a figure from a fairy tale…

The idea that such a grandiose title was recorded in history was shocking.

“How proud must the emperor have been? Commanding all of them with a mere wave of his hand.”

She chuckled wryly.

“Well… it’s just something to think about.”

***

The second floor, with its focus on paintings, was a distinct place in the mansion.

The corridor they were exploring was called the Hall of Servants, filled with portraits of every servant who had ever worked in the mansion.

“Let’s find Maid B. I absolutely have to see her face this time.”

“You sound confident.”

“Of course! It’s easy. We just look for the most beautiful servant with bright, honey-colored hair.”

“…That sounds plausible.”

“If I find her, it’ll prove that I’m prettier. If not, well… You’re as good as castrated!”

Asche glared at him menacingly, but to the butler, her threat carried about as much weight as an angry chick chirping.

“So it’s now accepted as fact that I’ve been stalking her?”

“Would she have chased after you? Men as aloof and insensitive as you aren’t exactly popular.”

He had been meticulous while assisting her during baths.

It was better to let Asche’s insults roll off and ignore them.

“Bright, honey-colored hair… Hmm, hmm…”

Asche searched the gallery at a brisk pace, only to turn back at the end with wide eyes.

“…She’s not here?”

“Congratulations.”

“You little…!”

She was livid.

What upset her so much was a mystery, but clearly, the possibility of her confidence enduring had never crossed her mind.

Just as the butler was about to chuckle, suppressing his amusement, a wave of unease washed over him.

‘…Was this painting always in a reaching posture?’

It was the portrait of a maid.

Perhaps it was just a baseless suspicion. Most of the portraits depicted figures seated demurely with their hands resting on their knees, so it wouldn’t be unreasonable to misremember one of their poses.

“Oh, right, Butler. Does that mean I don’t have a designated room this time?”

“So far, the mansion has issued no such directive.”

“Hmm, I see. If something serious happens, should I hide on the first floor?”

“It would be wiser to avoid any reckless actions until we uncover the conditions for opening the third floor.”

Their precautions were thorough.

Whenever a door needed to be opened, the so-called Butler Shield would be deployed first. They remained constantly on guard.

…Yet it seemed the mansion had no intention of tolerating such presumptuousness. In a way they could never have imagined, the mansion seized her.

“Butler.”

Asche took a step closer to him when—

Thump!

A human arm stretched out from the flat surface of a canvas, grabbing Asche by the forearm and yanking her into the painting in an instant.