The Uninvited Guest Of The Haunted Mansion (24)

No sooner had they passed the low conifers and taken the narrow path than Serenity saw the approach leading to the Annex.

Dark red climbing roses covered the walls on either side, their damp petals glistening under the fading light. Ahead stood a small rear gate leading into the Annex itself.

Blake and Serenity paused in the middle of the narrow path.

It felt strange… like the air had been twisted, the space around them stitched together wrong.

‘What on earth is this now?’

Confusion flickered through her mind, but she quickly brushed it aside. She’d long learned that trying to understand anything in this manor was a waste of reason.

The Duke led her forward with his usual calm pace. Before she realized it, they had already passed through the rear gate and stepped inside the Annex.

Click.

The door shut behind them. The sound of rain faded into a muffled hum.

“Oh my, that dazed look again,” Blake said lightly.

Serenity turned, startled. He was brushing his damp hair back with his hand, droplets still clinging to his sleeve.

“…What happened?” she asked quietly.

“I told you… they’re the kindest of the servants,” he said. “From now on, use this path when you visit the Annex. It’s the only way to come directly, without going through the main hall.”

“I’m not asking about the principle,” Serenity said, frowning. “I’m asking how you… “

Before she could finish, something soft and warm brushed her shoulders.

A dry towel had been draped around her.

She felt the ghostly touch of unseen hands against her skin. Blake, however, still stood a few steps away, perfectly within view.

“First, wipe off the moisture,” he said.

“…Ah.”

Invisible attendants.

Serenity had nearly forgotten the Annex was inhabited by those unseen presences… servants without form or voice.

‘They’re here again.’

The faint air stirred around her. No footsteps, no breath, but she could feel them, hovering just beyond sight.

“The servants have been restless,” Blake murmured, “and hovering only around you since earlier.”

Only then did Serenity realize her blouse clung wetly to her skin, her sleeves soaked through and transparent.

Heat rushed up her neck, and she ducked her head in embarrassment.

A blanket was gently placed over her shoulders, cocooning her. Blake, having observed her small flustered movements, turned away politely.

“Since you’ve already secured permission for the path once,” he said, “it will remain visible to you… even on days without rain. I imagine you don’t much enjoy running into the Annex servants.”

“…How kind of you,” she replied dryly.

“Of course. Didn’t I say I’d help?”

He smiled faintly, toweling his own hair dry.

“I’d like to visit your room more often, if I could,” he added, “but the Countess’s watchfulness is… formidable.”

“Ah…”

“So if you wish to see me, come here instead. I won’t keep you waiting long.”

He smiled, as though it were the most natural suggestion in the world.

“If you use the west garden as your excuse, the route will look perfectly natural, won’t it?”

Now that he mentioned it, the Countess had been observing them even at breakfast earlier.

It wasn’t that she disapproved of the match… on the contrary, she was deeply invested in it… but if she so much as suspected Serenity of breaking propriety before the engagement, she would never forgive it.

The Count’s discipline could be survived with tact. The Countess’s wrath, however, was another matter entirely.

Serenity could almost picture it: being chewed alive by her, losing everything, and waking up once more ten months earlier… trapped in the same cursed loop.

So yes, the Duke’s caution was understandable.

Still, the way he phrased it… the quiet Annex, the secret path, the suggestion to “visit him often”… felt… odd.

‘Is this something one should call a tryst?’

The thought drifted through her mind, dry and detached.

There was none of the burning tension that word implied.

“When you said the path would remain visible to me,” Serenity asked, “does that mean others won’t be able to see it?”

“At least the Count and Countess don’t know it exists,” he said simply.

There’s a path the Count doesn’t know?

Serenity blinked. She had walked through that garden countless times… across ten returns after death… and never once discovered such a passage.

It made sense to think of it as a secret route, perhaps one revealed to those who’d shown kindness to the servants.

But now, real unease began to stir.

Just how much did this man know?

Even if he was an Anomalous being, he was still an outsider… someone who had entered the Count’s household only a few weeks ago.

They might transcend human logic, but they weren’t omniscient. Even the Count, the manor’s ruler, didn’t know everything Serenity did beyond his gaze.

Yet Blake’s every action felt deliberate. Calculated.

‘The problem,’ she thought, ‘is that he seems utterly unwilling to explain any of it.’

She had no choice but to depend on him, but trust came uneasily. Every moment she found herself swinging between suspicion and belief… never able to land firmly on either.

And there was no way to force the truth from him.

So she remained lost in that endless uncertainty.

While Serenity stood quietly, the room came alive.

A fire was lit in the stove; lamps flared one by one; the air grew warm and golden.

Blake turned back to her, his damp hair now tousled and soft.

“The rain won’t stop soon,” he said. “Would you like some tea?”

Serenity glanced toward the window. The rain’s soft murmur filled the room once again.

“…Yes,” she said.

The downpour only grew heavier as the evening deepened.

Just as Blake had said, it didn’t seem likely to stop anytime soon.

They were now seated in the parlor on the Annex’s second floor.

Though darkness pressed against the windows, the garden below remained faintly visible… dark red roses trembling under the rain.

Serenity absently brushed her palm against the hem of her skirt.

Before coming to the parlor, the invisible attendants had bathed her in hot water, dried her hair, and dressed her in fresh, warm clothes.

Blake, too, had changed… now in a soft white poet’s shirt.

‘But why does this atmosphere feel so uncomfortable?’

Technically, this was her manor. He was the guest.

Yet, standing here in the Annex… a place she’d never entered before… Serenity felt strangely out of place. It was as though the roles had quietly reversed.

“You always seem tense when you’re with me,” Blake said suddenly.

Startled from her thoughts, she looked up.

He was smiling lazily, a lock of golden hair falling loose over his forehead. It softened him, making him look strangely unfamiliar.

“…Do I look that way?”

“Wasn’t it so?” he replied easily.

Serenity hesitated.

If not for the sound of the rain beating against the window, the room would have been utterly silent… so still she could hear her own pulse.

Blake’s casual charm, his unguarded demeanor… it felt off somehow. As though she’d stepped uninvited into his private world.

Her hand clenched tightly within the folds of her skirt.

The memory of his hand clasping hers earlier lingered, faint and warm.

After a long silence, Blake spoke again.

“I finished my conversation with the Count without incident. It seems I’ll be staying here for the next two months.”

“Two months…”

Two months… that would make exactly one year since the nightmare began.

She’d survived ten returns after death, yet had never lived long enough to see the year change. Every time, she woke in the cold of January and died before winter’s end.

This would be the first time she’d seen the seasons turn.

‘Then… will I, for the first time, pass into a new year?’

The thought was both terrifying and wondrous.

‘Or perhaps,’ she added silently, ‘I’ll escape before then… with his help.’

That was more hope than certainty.

Her expression darkened at the thought.

The Duke’s official reasons for staying were the engagement and the mining business.

‘Then… will I finally meet the blacksmith or the sculptor?’

They were Anomalous beings too… artisans said to dwell in the workshops behind the manor. Serenity had tried many times to reach them in previous loops, but never succeeded.

They were deeply tied to the Count’s enterprises, and it was impossible to approach them without a proper reason.

Of the two, the blacksmith intrigued her most.

He was the only craftsman who could forge every key used in the manor.

And “every key” meant those to forbidden rooms… and even the tightly locked rear gate.

‘The rear gate is mentioned in the mansion’s rules, but you can’t approach it without a key. However…’

Perhaps… through the Duke… she could finally obtain one.

After turning the thought over in her mind, Serenity spoke.

“If it’s all right with you, Duke,” she said, her tone careful, “could I accompany you later… when you meet the blacksmith?”