Though she knew Saul couldn’t see it, Catherine smiled instinctively to reassure him.Then she thought about the two people she had encountered before entering the bedroom. She recalled meeting David the previous night.

When she had tested him by handing him the glass vial, he had replied it wasn’t his, yet he hadn’t denied not going to the chapel when she mentioned Samuel.

And the chapel… Catherine instinctively felt there was something there. Around the same time, she had seen both men in that typically deserted place.

Could their visits truly have been coincidental? Catherine wondered. Even if it genuinely was a coincidence, she couldn’t help but be suspicious.

She had assigned people to watch both David and Samuel, so she would soon learn the truth. If they were engaged in anything remotely suspicious, she would banish them immediately. Catherine was making this resolution when something unexpected happened.

Suddenly feeling a tug on their clasped hands, Catherine blinked in surprise. Saul was tilting his shoulder. He seemed to be trying to sit up.

“Do you need something?”

After asking this, Catherine quickly rose from her seat, releasing his hand. She moved closer to Saul.

As she leaned forward carefully to support him, a cold hand touched her cheek. The contact was sudden. Catherine froze. Slowly, another hand touched her other cheek.

The hands on both sides of her face moved deeper. Those bony, emaciated hands completely cupped Catherine’s cheeks. Looking at Saul who had turned toward her, Catherine whispered.

“Saul?”

In response to her call, Saul’s lips moved. A blurred, indistinct voice brushed her ear. Fragmented sounds fell from his lips, impossible to understand. Yet somehow, Catherine felt she knew what Saul was trying to say. His moving lips seemed to be calling her name.

Slowly, Saul’s hands moved. They traced over Catherine’s face, seemingly confirming her features.

His lips moved once more. Catherine—this time it sounded a little clearer than before. Those still-unfamiliar red eyes were staring directly at her.

My… His lips moved again. And with an exhaled breath, a name reached Catherine’s ears.

“Cathy.”

That strange, unfamiliar name completed.

Unlike the previous blurred utterances, his voice was surprisingly clear and distinct. It was sharp and precise, like something etched with an awl. It pierced her mind with startling clarity. But hearing that name, Catherine froze.

This is not Saul.

She couldn’t explain why the thought suddenly struck her. Was it because the call was too gentle to be from those dry lips? Because it was the first time he’d used a nickname for her? Because of the uncharacteristically affectionate touch?

An inexplicable, strange certainty crept up from her feet. It felt like someone had poured ice over her head. The cold hands cupping her cheeks, tracing upward, seemed like they would never let go.

They felt stuck to her skin. If they separated, it seemed her skin might tear. Those rigid knuckles she had kissed just moments ago now felt chillingly like those of a dead person.

Thump-thump. Her heart beat rapidly. Thump-thump. The pulsing seemed to reverberate through her entire body, screaming at her to shake off these hands now. To turn away. To escape this place.

It was an instinctual warning. Yet Catherine couldn’t move at all. She seemed to have forgotten even to breathe. She couldn’t even blink.

All she could do was stare into those eyes looking back at her—seeing her own terror-stricken, pale reflection in those smooth red eyes.

The cold fingertips wandered. They brushed against her hair flowing down her temples, then traced along her rounded forehead. They followed the gentle curve around her eyes, the hollow at the corner of her eyes, down the straight bridge of her nose.

It felt like her skin was being scraped away with a cold blade. She had the illusion that traces of her life were dropping away, following those cold fingers. The fingertips continued downward along the contours of her cheeks.

Then suddenly, the cold fingertips stopped. They touched Catherine’s full lips. They pressed down on her slightly parted lips.

* * *

“My lady?”

At the careful call, Catherine jerked her head up. Her sudden reaction was met with the sound of someone drawing in a startled breath.

“My lady, are you alright?”

A cautious voice called out. Catherine turned her head. With tension tightening her neck and shoulders, even this small movement made her entire body scream in protest.

It was the butler. Upon seeing the familiar face, Catherine’s body collapsed, suddenly losing all support.

“My lady!”

The startled butler instinctively caught Catherine. Only then did he notice her condition—face drained of color, cold sweat breaking out across her skin.

“Has something happened?”

The butler lowered himself before Catherine, his concerned gaze reaching her. But Catherine didn’t answer. She wasn’t in a state to respond.

She had no idea what had just happened. Was it a dream? But it seemed too vivid to be a dream—Saul calling her name, those cold hands tracing her face.

Her head spun as though she’d been struck on the back of her skull. Catherine clutched her throbbing forehead.

No—she had raised her hand to hold her forehead, but startled by a tugging sensation, she looked up. Catherine’s gaze fell diagonally toward her hand. She was still holding Saul’s hand.

Catherine jumped up from her seat without even screaming. As she rose, the chair caught behind her knees, making her sit back down. Her gaze remained fixed on Saul’s face with his closed eyes.

“My lady!”

The alarmed butler approached Catherine. Thanks to his approach, Saul’s figure was blocked from view. Only then did Catherine exhale with a gasp. She hadn’t even realized she had been holding her breath.

“Are you unwell? Shall I call the physician?”

She could hear his anxious voice, unable to offer physical support without permission. Gasp, wheeze. Catherine couldn’t even answer as she struggled for breath. Her heart was beating too fast. Her body felt powerless. But she needed to escape.

All she could think about was getting away from this place. Catherine forced strength into her trembling legs and stood up.

“My lady…”

She barely managed to gesture to the butler watching her with concern.

“No, I’m fine. So… I, to my room, need rest.”

Incoherent sentences tumbled out. Catherine blurted out whatever came to mind, not even knowing what she was saying. 

Yes, my lady. Please go and rest. I’ll keep watch here. The butler’s response buzzed in her ears. In truth, she could barely hear what he was saying. Her unsteady figure looked precarious as she rose, staggering with a dazed expression.

Please hold onto me, my lady. In an almost trance-like state, Catherine grasped the arm extended before her. She walked out while practically hanging onto it. Behind her, she felt a persistent gaze sticking to her back.

“My lady!”

As soon as she exited the bedroom, Catherine collapsed, all her strength suddenly drained. The startled butler tried to support her, but unable to hold herself up even with his help, she sank down onto the thick carpet.

What was that…? Catherine wondered blankly. What happened to me…? But she couldn’t find any answers. It was bizarre. Clearly, Saul had been awake… Her chest slowly rose and fell. Breathing in and out repeatedly, Catherine tried to trace her memories.

Those eyes. She remembered seeing the red eyes. But… Saul had been asleep. His eyes were closed, so how had she seen them? Suddenly, she felt goosebumps rising.

“My lady, I’ll call the physician…”

“No, I’m fine. Really.”

Catherine automatically responded to the butler’s concerned suggestion. Her voice sounded lost, like she didn’t know what she was saying.

But contrary to her voice, Catherine knew exactly what she needed to do. There had never been a moment when she knew so clearly. I need to get away from here. That thought alone circled in her mind.

Catherine moved her hand. Twitching, she pushed with force through her stiffened fingertips. She put strength into her legs and stood up. She steadied her swaying body by leaning against the wall.

Then she slowly walked away. The butler said something to her, worried she might collapse, but she walked on in a daze, not hearing his words.

She walked without knowing where she was going. I don’t understand anything. Catherine murmured. Truly, she couldn’t understand anything. Her head was spinning. Suddenly, the floor seemed to shake. Catherine stopped walking.

“My lady?”

A familiar voice reached Catherine’s ears as she stood with her head bowed, hand on her forehead, practically leaning against the wall. It was a thin, youthful voice. The voice came from in front of Catherine.

She looked up. It was a girl. A girl with dark brown hair that swayed as she ran up quickly grabbed Catherine to support her.

“Goodness, my lady. Such cold sweat…”

A surprised murmur rose up. It buzzed in her ears. Her head hurt. When Catherine’s face contorted in pain, the girl seemed to come to her senses and closed her mouth.

To your room, let’s go to your room. I’ll escort you there. Whispering softly, she supported Catherine, allowing her to lean on her as they slowly moved forward.

As they walked slowly like a child practicing its first steps, Catherine gradually regained her senses. She could feel her awareness returning—the sensation that had felt disjointed and foreign slowly coming back.

Catherine blinked. After blinking rapidly, she moved her fingertips. She gripped the arm of the girl supporting her. The girl turned her gaze toward Catherine.

“My lady, are you alright?”

The girl’s concerned voice finally reached her properly.

“Yes…”

Catherine answered with an exhale.

“Still, I’ll accompany you until you reach your room.”

The girl added with a helpful attitude. Too exhausted to answer, Catherine simply nodded.