#3

Just when he thought he had managed to drive her from his mind. It had all been for nothing.

That unknowing woman. So innocent and good-natured….. She probably had no idea that she had caught the attention of the very man she should most avoid.

Leopold taking an interest in Diez was one of the things he most needed to prevent. He was a man who normally showed his hostility indirectly, always trying to scratch at Jürgen’s most sensitive spots. The mere thought of him making Diez his new plaything was already giving Jürgen a headache.

The worst part was that even if such a thing happened, there was nothing Jürgen could do about it.

‘What’s wrong, Jürgen?’

‘She was your father’s mistress. Did you have some personal interest in that kind of woman?’

Leopold knew better than anyone what would provoke Jürgen. He wanted to remind Jürgen that he was the inevitable offspring of the late Duke, and that he was no different from his father.

By doing so, he wanted to watch Jürgen spiral further downward.

Diez was the perfect prey for Leopold to target. If he ever became certain of anything, the situation would become impossibly complicated.

It was about a year ago when Jürgen truly felt that Leopold wanted to push him off a cliff. He invited Jürgen to a hotel in the center of the city, saying there was something he really wanted to show him.

Until then, Leopold had never shown direct malice, so Jürgen’s biggest mistake was not being suspicious enough.

What Jürgen witnessed when he entered the designated room was a n*ked woman lying face down on the bed with her b*ttocks raised. She even had a phallic object inserted into her g*nitals.

The woman, blindfolded with a black cloth, constantly moaned while moving her hips. Far from feeling aroused by the lewd scene, Jürgen felt revulsion rising in his throat and immediately left the room.

As he hurriedly exited the building, he encountered Leopold in the lobby on the first floor.

‘Did you see what I prepared?’

For a moment, his gaze slipped downward as if to check something. Leopold spoke in a somewhat disappointed voice.

‘I guess it wasn’t to your taste.’

Since that day, Leopold never repeated the same trick. But he persistently prodded at Jürgen in other ways.

It was almost as if he was saying:

Don’t you think the day of your slow self-destruction will eventually come?

Unfortunately for him, Jürgen had no interest whatsoever in women.

With one exception.

Why did it have to be you?

Of course, he knew better than anyone that this was a question without an answer.

Jürgen had told Diez that the safest place for her was the ducal mansion, meaning by his side.

But that wasn’t true.

Because the greatest danger to her was none other than his own personal desire.

* * *

It had been nearly a month since the mansion’s owner had changed. During that time, Jürgen had made every effort to change and replace anything that reminded him of his father’s tastes and presence.

His goal was to ensure that no trace of the late Duke could be felt anywhere in the mansion. Since Jürgen, who had always wanted to be distinctly different from his father, had become the mansion’s master, the appearance of the residence had changed noticeably.

He changed absolutely everything, down to the smallest detail. From the carpets and tapestries on the floor to every single picture frame and plant.

Some might call it obsessive, but he didn’t care. Jürgen had never forgotten the resolution he had made since boyhood.

Now that he had taken the position as head of the family was the perfect time to realize that resolution.

After the servants had busily carried out his instructions, the ducal mansion had almost reached a state that satisfied him.

Except for one corner.

On the top floor of the mansion, there was a place that couldn’t be accessed without the master’s permission. The servants didn’t even dare to ask Jürgen what should be done with that space.

Everyone knew how much Jürgen despised his father’s peculiar s*xual proclivities. How could anyone bring up a room that would clearly provoke his disgust?

Of course, Jürgen was also aware that there was a room remaining as a headache. He also knew that the servants were cautious even about mentioning it.

He felt the same aversion. Because he was reluctant even to think about the secret room his father had occasionally used, he had postponed dealing with that space until the very last.

But he could no longer ignore it.

He had no intention whatsoever of leaving such a contemptible space in the mansion that was now his.

After finishing lunch in the usual open space, Jürgen addressed a servant in a neutral tone.

“You know the ‘Blue Room’ on the top floor, right?”

The moment he mentioned that room, the servant didn’t know how to react. Since this wasn’t unexpected, Jürgen continued nonchalantly.

“Who has the key?”

“I believe the head butler is keeping it, my lord.”

“Clear it out today and report back to me.”

“Yes, Your Grace.”

After taking a sip of tea, Jürgen was about to leave when his gaze turned toward the half-open entrance of the dining room. He quietly observed the maids walking in line somewhere, then added,

“There’s no need to mention this to Miss Schleicher.”

“Of course not.”

Suddenly, a scene he had never witnessed flashed through his mind. His father dragging Diez up to the top floor. Would he have done such things in broad daylight, or only chosen the dead of night?

Diez had testified that she deliberately cried louder when struck by the late Duke’s whip. The red marks left mercilessly on her snow-white back came clearly to mind.

His father, that man—had he been excited? While mercilessly whipping Diez?

Recalling such a scene right after lunch was clearly a mistake. Feeling sick, he frowned and rose from his seat without hesitation.

“Clear it out within the afternoon.”

“Yes, Your Grace.”

Leaving these instructions behind, he headed straight to his office. Needless to say, he didn’t encounter Diez along the way.

How ridiculous.

As if he might have expected to.

Buried in paperwork in his office, a servant returned to him exactly three hours later.

“Your Grace, we’ve cleared out the space as you instructed.”

His gaze, which had briefly lifted, returned to the documents.

“What about the items that were inside?”

“We’ve packed everything into boxes and organized them…… With your instructions, we’ll dispose of them accordingly.”

There was only one instruction he intended to give.

Throw everything away.

Just as he was about to say this, Jürgen suddenly remembered something and hesitated.

Could there be items among them that clearly belonged to Diez?

Once that possibility surfaced, he couldn’t bring himself to order everything burned. Finally, Jürgen uttered words he hadn’t planned,

“I’ll go up and check myself, so have everyone leave.”

“Yes, Your Grace.”

The servant who received the instruction left the office. Instead of leaving immediately, Jürgen fidgeted with his fountain pen, lost in thought.

Tick, tick. Around the time the wall clock’s second hand began to irritate his ears.

He rose from his seat to inspect the room where Diez had once been confined.

* * *

When had it started? Before anyone noticed, the top floor had become the least frequented place in the ducal mansion. Was it because of the Blue Room’s existence? Or was it because of the late Duke’s orders forbidding approach even near the Blue Room?

It had been a long time since Jürgen himself had walked to the top floor. As he climbed the stairs one floor at a time, approaching the forbidden zone, he felt a creeping sensation rising up his legs.

It was laughable, really. It was now just an empty space.

As instructed, the servants had all left, so he reached the room without encountering anyone.

The door was closed. Jürgen found himself momentarily hesitating in front of the closed door and was startled by his own reaction.

Why am I feeling this emotion?

In front of a mere empty room.

This space had nothing to do with him. It was merely a place where his s*x-crazed father had committed deranged acts.

Why was he hesitating?

Despite it now being a useless space, as Jürgen grabbed the doorknob, he felt as if he were touching a forbidden sin.

I am different from him.

He was merely checking the state of the room. As the mansion’s owner, that much was his duty.

Jürgen momentarily drove away the mysterious emotions swirling within him and opened the door.

The room was completely empty. The servants had literally removed everything that made up the room. Even the curtains that would have covered the windows—everything.

Jürgen left the door slightly open and stepped in with slow movements. In the empty room devoid of any furniture, only the sound of his shoes echoed.

Thud, thud. Why did even the sound of his heels hitting the wooden floor feel eerie? Was it because he himself knew that disgusting and abhorrent things had happened here?

Jürgen tried not to imagine those scenes. But the image of Diez being dragged here, trembling with fear and forced to kneel on the bare floor, kept appearing in his mind.

Had she desperately curled up, crying and begging forgiveness for sins she never committed? His father, that despicable man—what expression did he wear as he looked down at Diez?

Did he enjoy it? Did he feel ecstasy? Did he feel an unspeakable satisfaction as he wielded the whip against that small woman?

Of course, these were things he wasn’t curious about and didn’t want to know.

Then why do I keep falling into such thoughts?

Shaking his head to clear his mind, Jürgen’s gaze turned toward a box placed in the corner. The large box contained neatly arranged items that must have been left in this room.