Chapter 3.2

The doctor’s room was located at the end of the second-floor hallway, near the servants’ quarters. After placing the box down, Carlson received a pat on the shoulder from the servant, who thanked him for his effort. 

“So, are these all-medicinal herbs?” 

“That’s what I heard. Apparently, the young lady has been struggling to fall asleep lately, so the doctor prescribed her some sleeping aids.” 

It was clear that gathering information from the servants would be easier. Carlson, as an outsider to the estate, wasn’t privy to everything, but the more they tried to hide certain things, the more other details seemed to slip out. 

He continued assisting various servants with their tasks, chatting with them constantly. His cheerful and lighthearted demeanor helped ease their tension, allowing him to glean bits of information here and there. 

“So, Ayla, you haven’t been working here for very long?”

“I’m the youngest here, and I have the least experience! That’s why I’m stuck doing laundry like this.” 

“But at least you’ve got someone to chat with while working, so it’s less lonely, right?” 

“Of course! I’m glad you’re here, Carlson. Usually, it’s really lonely and… scary.” 

“Scary? Does this estate have ghosts or something?” 

Carlson joked as he shook out the freshly washed linens. It was a casual remark, but Ayla froze, gripping the laundry tightly with a pale expression. 

Noticing her reaction, Carlson turned to her with a puzzled look and moved closer. 

“…I was just kidding. Surely there aren’t actual ghosts here, right?” 

“…Carlson.” 

“Yes, yes?” 

Ayla glanced around nervously, then gestured for Carlson to come closer. As he leaned in, she whispered softly into his ear. 

“There’s actually a rumor among the servants about this estate.” 

“A rumor? Don’t tell me…” 

“That’s right. They say there’s a ghost here.” 

“Oh, come on. Ghosts don’t exist! It’s probably just a made-up story, like an urban legend.” 

“It’s true! The maid who worked here before me saw the ghost herself! After that, she started hearing voices and seeing things until she finally quit. That’s the only reason I got hired, despite my lack of experience.” 

Carlson stared at Ayla with wide eyes as she nodded earnestly, as if trying to convince him. 

Of course, Carlson didn’t believe her. As an investigator who had dealt with countless corpses, he had never encountered anything resembling a ghost. If vengeful spirits existed, he would have met one by now. 

Once the topic was broached, Ayla couldn’t stop talking about it. She seemed almost obsessed with the ghost story, continuing to chatter without pause. 

“Sometimes, late at night or in the early morning, you can hear strange sounds! Screams, or someone sobbing uncontrollably…” 

“Well, that’s… quite the story.” 

“Isn’t it? Honestly, I want to quit because I’m so scared, but the pay is too good…” 

“Ah… I see. That does make it hard to leave. I understand.” 

The two carried baskets of dry laundry upstairs to the second floor. Ayla suddenly stopped in front of the staircase leading to the third floor. She stared at the upper floor for a moment before pulling Carlson into a nearby room. 

“Did you know that the Countess passed away in this villa?” 

“I heard she died after childbirth, but… why bring that up now?”

“Well, because of that, the young lady never used to visit this villa. It’s the place where her mother died, after all.” 

Now that she mentioned it, it did seem odd. If her mother had died here shortly after giving birth, it would naturally be a place the daughter would avoid. It made Carlson wonder about the Earl’s reasoning for sending his daughter alone to the estate where his wife had passed away. 

“But ever since the young lady came to the villa six months ago, the Countess’s ghost started appearing.” 

“So, all the ghost stories are about the Countess?” 

“Exactly! Why else would the ghost appear at this specific time? It’s terrifying. Honestly, I think the young lady is…” 

Ayla trailed off, rubbing her face with both hands and shifting her gaze nervously. She fiddled with the ends of her hair for a moment before speaking again. 

“I don’t see the young lady often, but… I’ve been thinking she seems strange.” 

“Strange? In what way?” 

“In all the months I’ve been serving her, I’ve never seen her smile. She’s been smiling more often since meeting the Duke recently, though.” 

“So, what was she like before that?” 

“Well… She didn’t seem happy at all. Maybe it’s just because of the ghost, but… if I’m scared, imagine how hard it must be for her.” 

As Carlson explored the estate, he began noticing peculiarities, just as Azrael had said. It was becoming clear that Beatrice wasn’t just an eccentric young lady with an unusual interest in Azrael. There was more beneath the surface. 

After helping Ayla with her tasks, Carlson waited for nightfall. The rumors about the ghost wouldn’t have spread without reason. There had to be something behind them. 

As darkness fell, the servants retreated to their rooms one by one. By midnight, the hallways were completely silent. Carlson carefully got out of bed and opened his door. 

‘Good. No one’s around.’ 

He began walking quietly down the hallway, muffling his footsteps as much as possible. The lack of servants meant the corridors weren’t well-lit, creating an ideal environment for sneaking around. 

It was a long walk to the staircase leading to the third floor. Carlson silently cursed the estate’s size as he moved. Suddenly, he froze in place. 

‘Didn’t the servants all go to bed? No one should be wandering around at this hour…’ 

Ayla’s ghost story flashed through his mind, and he swallowed nervously, peering into the darkness. Slow, deliberate footsteps echoed as someone approached. 

Moonlight filtered through the windows, illuminating the carpet. A small, bare foot appeared—its owner wasn’t even wearing slippers. 

Carlson’s curiosity quickly turned to shock as he looked up to see who it was. His eyes widened, and he muttered in disbelief. 

“Beatrice…”

At least it was a familiar face, and Carlson let out a sigh of relief internally. As expected, there were no ghosts in the estate. Carlson approached Beatrice with a lighthearted tone. 

“Goodness, you startled me! What brings you here at this hour, Miss?” 

The two had met a few times before—at the temporary investigation headquarters and afterward. Beatrice couldn’t possibly fail to recognize him. Yet, she didn’t respond. Feeling puzzled, Carlson waved his hand in front of her eyes. 

“Excuse me? Miss? Don’t you remember me?” 

Still, there was no reply. Beatrice didn’t seem to register Carlson’s presence at all. Upon closer inspection, her appearance was different from before. There was a dazed look on her face, and her eyes seemed to be staring into nothingness. 

‘Sleepwalking?’ 

He couldn’t simply leave her there, nor could he ignore the fact that she was wandering around in her nightgown. As he deliberated over the awkward situation, Beatrice’s eyes suddenly closed, and she collapsed as if fainting. 

Carlson reflexively caught her. Worried she might have a fever, he touched her forehead, but her temperature felt normal—just like any ordinary person’s. 

“Oh dear, what should I do…” 

Leaving her there would allow him to continue exploring the estate without issue. However, Carlson was a knight. Though he often brushed aside the ideals of knighthood, he couldn’t abandon a noble young lady on the cold floor. 

In the end, he took off his jacket and draped it over Beatrice. Then, he went to find Adam and explained what had just happened. 

Adam seemed slightly surprised but quickly and skillfully carried Beatrice in his arms, heading toward her room. Carlson followed behind, casually striking up a conversation. 

“I was startled when Miss suddenly collapsed. It’s fortunate I happened to pass by; otherwise, she might have hit her head or something serious could have happened.” 

“Yes, I truly appreciate your assistance in this matter.” 

The straightforward gratitude caught Carlson off guard. Adam’s dedication to Beatrice seemed unusually intense. It felt like more than mere duty as a bodyguard. 

“Does this sort of thing happen often?” 

“…” 

“Well, if it’s a sensitive topic, you don’t have to answer.” 

By then, they had arrived at Beatrice’s room. Adam entered, laid her on the bed, and covered her with a blanket. Carlson shrugged and prepared to return to his own room. 

“Sir Turner.” 

“Yes?” 

“Since you’ll be serving as her guard for a while, I should tell you something.” 

Adam’s words were unexpected, and Carlson stopped in the hallway, waiting for him to come out. 

Adam quietly exited the room and closed the door carefully, his gaze lingering on Beatrice until the door shut completely. His intense focus on her was almost unnerving. Carlson quickly redirected the conversation back to the original topic. 

“So, what is it you need to tell me?” 

“The young lady’s mind is not entirely sound.” 

“Does she suffer from some sort of mental illness? Or…” 

“I can’t give you the details. You’re only here as a temporary guard, Sir Turner.” 

That implied that those who weren’t temporary likely already knew this. Carlson recalled the unusually small number of servants in the villa. Perhaps it was related to this matter. 

After deliberating for a while, Adam continued speaking, carefully choosing his words. It was clear he was thoroughly managing the information he shared.

“This might happen again tonight or in the future. If it does, just call me, as you did earlier.” 

“That’s simple enough. Are there any other precautions I should take? Since you’re already telling me, it’d be helpful to know more.” 

“If something like this happens again, regardless of what the young lady says or how she reacts, do not pay attention to it.” 

“What… does she exhibit strange behaviors?”