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“Miss! You woke up early today!”
Nia’s wooden shoes clacked against the floor as she entered.
“I woke up early.”
“You’ve been dawdling every morning lately. Has something changed?”
“Something like that.”
Of course.
Today, for the first time in ten months, Serenity would step outside the mansion. And she had an excuse to skip breakfast, an outing. What could be better? Even if the food had become easier to manage, sharing the table with the Count and Countess for over an hour was never good for her sanity.
“Still, I’m worried. You’re fragile as it is, what if something dangerous happens outside? This mansion is the safest place for you.”
“Haha.”
Serenity smoothed her twisted expression before Nia could notice. Safe? To call this death trap “safe” was terrifying in its own way.
“The household tends to be overly protective of me.”
“You’re not like ordinary people. When you were little, you’d collapse if you so much as looked away, do you remember how shocked we were?”
Nia fussed, clutching her chest at the memory.
Serenity watched her preparations in the mirror, then spoke casually.
“I’d prefer a coat in a subdued color. I don’t want to stand out.”
“Oh, come on, your first outing, and you want to dress drab? Brighter would be better!”
“Plain is best. It suits the weather, too.”
“Miss, you really are… unique.”
Serenity didn’t bother to explain. Drawing attention was the quickest way to die in this world. Nia looked displeased but relented, bringing a navy coat and a matching cloche hat. Serenity slipped them on, perfectly suited to the gloomy day.
“I’ll be back by six at the latest.”
If I come back at all.
She put on low shoes and descended to the first floor. The Count had said a “suitable knight” would escort her. But what did “suitable” mean among creatures that all wore the same faceless helmets?
Creak.
At the bottom of the stairs, a knight in plate armor waited in the ashen lobby, a crimson rose engraved on his breastplate.
Creak.
He bowed stiffly, every movement mechanical. At least a head taller than Serenity, he radiated no warmth at all. It was almost amusing, so much lifeless pomp in this walking shell.
“Alright, let’s go.”
Squeak.
Outside, a carriage waited.
‘At last. I can pass through the front gate.’
Her heart thudded, excitement and dread mixing. She tried to keep her pace steady.
Creak.
“Huh?”
The knight stepped in front of her.
Serenity frowned, looking up. He seemed almost embarrassed as he gestured away from the carriage.
“So…”
Squeak, creak.
“You mean I need to make preparations before I can go out safely? Preparations from me?”
Creak.
He clapped his hands insistently, urging her along.
Serenity’s stomach dropped.
‘Overprotective. Not just the Count, the entire mansion.’
The rules of this legend were too detailed. Even the knights showed this much “concern.”
It was clear: if she didn’t comply, she wouldn’t be allowed outside at all.
‘These damned anomalous beings.’
Suppressing her irritation, Serenity sighed and nodded.
“Lead the way.”
Squeak!
The knight hopped slightly, as if delighted, then marched ahead, armor clanking. He led her past the Main Building, through the east garden, and into the estate’s depths.
‘The Annex?’
She expected him to stop at the servants’ quarters. But no, he went past, stopping instead at the Rose Knights’ meeting hall.
“…Here?“
Klk.
He motioned for her to wait, then disappeared inside.
‘Because they have no mouths, their behavior seems oddly sprightly.’
Was this just him, or all of them? She couldn’t tell.
After a long wait, the knight reemerged, carrying something under one arm.
“…Armor?“
It was. A steel suit, smaller than his own.
Serenity’s eyes widened.
“You don’t mean for me to wear this, do you?”
Creak.
The knight nodded.
‘He’s serious?’
Her mind reeled. After all she’d endured, this absurdity almost felt… endearing.
Creak, creak.
He jiggled the helmet’s mouthpiece as if speaking, then pointed at her wrist and mimed it snapping.
“So… you mean my flesh is too soft, my body too fragile, to go out bare?”
Squeak.
He spread his arms wide and nodded again.
‘This is madness.’
Armor covering her head, her entire body, for a short outing? Because her flesh was “too soft”? Only in this legend could nonsense feel natural.
‘Still, armor is too much… How am I supposed to move in that?’
But before she could protest, the knight clanked the armor open.
Serenity froze.
The Rose Knights had no bodies. Their armor was their body. No one knew what lay inside.
And this one’s interior was—
‘Fuck.’
Packed with spikes.
Dense steel thorns jutted inward, glinting cold in the dim light.
Serenity’s blood ran cold. Her fingers went numb.
‘I’m screwed.’
Of course things had been going too smoothly. This world always twisted itself to kill her.
Creak, klk.
The knight reached for her, intent on fitting her inside. Cold steel hands clamped her wrist.
No.
Not like this.
After everything, she wouldn’t die like this.
Serenity yanked, but the strength difference was hopeless. Pain shot through her trapped wrist.
“Let go…!”
Creak.
“No, I won’t! I hate this, no!”
Her desperate cry vanished into silence.
I don’t want to die. Please. Save me.
Dragged toward the spiked armor, she struggled uselessly.
Then—
“Well now.”
Clang!
The crushing grip on her wrist broke away.
“…?“
She blinked. The knight stared, bewildered, at his own severed arm lying on the floor.
And beyond him—
“This meeting seems awfully similar to last time. Am I imagining it?”
“…“
“Perhaps this is your taste, young lady?”
Serenity’s breath caught.
“…Duke?“
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