Surviving in the Cursed Mansion

Chapter 5: The Portrait of a Maid (2)

The sight of the ravaged hallway left Asche visibly shaken. Her small hands clenched tightly around her dress, crumpling the fabric further.

“What happened…? All we did was read the diary…”

“Perhaps reading it served as a trigger,” I suggested.

Leaving Maid C’s room, I noticed Asche trailing behind me, as if tethered by an invisible rope.

“It looks like an animal clawed through here…”

“If it was an animal, it must’ve been enormous.”

“Yeah… these marks look like they were slashed by a sword.”

The bizarre phenomena unfolding before her seemed to bypass any stage of denial. Instead, Asche accepted the chaos with unsettling composure.

For my part, my attention was drawn not to the gouges on the walls or floor, but to something on the ceiling.

“Look up, Asche.”

“Up? Why—? Gah!”

Her breath hitched as she followed my gaze.

Etched into the ceiling in jagged letters was a threatening message:

[GIVE IT BACK!]

The meaning was unclear, but the anger of the one who wrote it was palpable.

“What do they mean, ‘give it back’? Butler, did you steal something?”

“Do you think I’d have anything to steal?”

“Well, no. If you’d stolen anything valuable, you wouldn’t look so… pathetic.”

Even in the midst of fear, Asche’s knack for irritating remarks remained impressive. I resisted the urge to let go of her dress and play a game of hide-and-seek in the chaos.

But alas, she was my last hope, for better or worse.

“Let’s move on.”

“Huh? Move on where?”

“I’ve only shown you the maids’ rooms so far. We’ll need to explore the rest of the mansion eventually, and you should familiarize yourself with the layout.”

“Ugh…”

Asche hesitated, fear clearly weighing heavily on her.

It was understandable. Unlike me, she likely wanted to live and was far more sensitive to the oppressive fear lingering in the mansion.

“Nothing changes if you stay still. All that awaits is growing old in this cursed house.”

“…”

“With no one to talk to.”

“That’s not true.”

“Who do you mean?”

“You.”

Her response caught me off guard, and I blinked. It was odd to be considered a companion, even in such dire circumstances.

But her words were likely selfish, a desire to stave off isolation.

“I’m not your companion. If you give up, I’ll have no reason to assist you, speak with you, or have any further connection to you.”

“What?!”

“I said—”

“Not that! You mean you wouldn’t serve me anymore?!”

“…Agh.”

“Huh? What was that? Did you just—”

“Nothing. It was nothing.”

She truly was the epitome of a royal brat. Her father must have pampered her endlessly to mold such entitlement into her.

Still, my subtle boycott seemed to work. Asche let go of her crumpled dress and adjusted her sleeves, standing straighter.

“Fine… let’s go.”

Even trembling with fear, she took a step forward, placing herself slightly ahead of me.

The bravery she forced herself to summon was…

Admirable.

Perhaps the effect was like that of a mischievous child whose rare good deeds stood out disproportionately.

Noticing my pause, Asche turned back to look at me.

“Why are you just standing there? Are we going or not?”

“…Let’s proceed.”

I sincerely hoped this newfound resolve would continue.

***

The Mansion’s First Floor – Northern Corridor.

Unlike the area near the maids’ rooms, which bore claw marks and gouges, the rest of the corridor was relatively pristine. This seemed to help ease Asche’s nerves slightly.

“Wow, look at this! It’s amazing how outdated everything is. It’s like walking through a museum!”

“What seems outdated to you?”

“Those mounted animal heads on the walls.”

Asche pointed at the decorative pieces spaced along the corridor.

“They aren’t real taxidermy. They’re artificial masks. They call them ‘Tal.’”

“Tal…”

The term felt familiar, matching the name and purpose of traditional masks from my previous life.

“See? That one shaped like a deer is a ‘deer tal,’ that one shaped like a pig is a ‘pig tal,’ and the dog-shaped one is a ‘dog tal.’ Oh, and that human-faced one… probably a ‘ghost tal’ or something. Anyway, they’re all tal!”

“…I see.”

“These went out of fashion at least 300 years ago. Nowadays, you’d only find them in a museum.”

As expected, Asche’s eyes sparkled with anticipation, as if she were a child waiting for praise for identifying a rare artifact.

Naturally, I ignored her.

“You… ugh.”

She must have realized the snub was deliberate because her enthusiastic gaze quickly turned into one of bitter resentment.

After glaring at me for a while, she suddenly grabbed my arm and dragged me toward a display case.

“Butler, look! There’s a note here.”

[Always communicate at eye level! Listen from the other’s perspective!]
—B to ■■, with sincerity.

The recipient’s name had been smudged beyond recognition, as if worn down over time.

“Seriously? Who needs to write something so basic down? They must have been completely clueless to need a reminder like this.”

“Perhaps. Though I, too, feel an overwhelming urge to write such reminders ‘with sincerity.’”

Particularly for a certain naive and selfish princess.

As Asche rolled her eyes and stepped away, she suddenly darted back to the note.

“Wait! This was written by B, wasn’t it? It has to be Maid B!”

“This is the first record we’ve found from Maid B.”

“So what? All we get is one dumb note? I want something substantial, like another diary!”

Grumbling, Asche resumed walking, though her mind seemed fixated on the newfound clue.

“What kind of person was B? Based on A and C’s diaries, it seems like everything revolved around her.”

With her thoughts clearly centered on B, she continued her musings aloud.

“She must’ve been someone who really stood out.”

“Right? Like C said, B must have been someone with angelic looks and personality. She probably led a smooth and easy life.”

“That’s not so certain.”

“What makes you say that?”

It was true that beauty and a kind heart were an ideal combination. Maid B likely embodied the perfection many desired.

But such blessings, when unmatched by status, often became curses.

“Because she was just a maid. You must have seen it yourself in the palace, Asche. What usually happens to commoners with B’s qualities?”

“Oh…”

Asche’s face darkened as she grasped my meaning.

Beautiful and kind women often ended up as mistresses to nobles, their lives reduced to commodities. 

Those who avoided such fates often lived under constant scrutiny, burdened by scandalous rumors.

And for a maid, especially one confined within the closed walls of an estate, survival required more than mere virtue.

“Ugh, being pretty really is a curse. Even though I’ve had my fair share of trouble because of it.”

“Undoubtedly, those around you had it even worse.”

Asche quickly clamped a hand over her mouth. After a moment of silence, she spoke cautiously.

“Butler, I have a serious question.”

“Go ahead.”

“Am I really plain? Is there nothing beautiful about me?”

You become more beautiful the less you speak.

The thought rose unbidden, but I swallowed it down.

“I’ve not seen many women in a long time. Perhaps if we find a clearer photograph of Maid B, we’ll have a basis for comparison.”

“Your standards are way too high! Based on what’s been said, she sounds like a literal goddess!”

“Then take heart. It’s possible you and she are equally matched. Unless you doubt yourself?”

“W-who said I doubted myself? Hmph! There’s no way a commoner could be more beautiful than me, a daughter of the imperial palace!”

I was beginning to understand how to handle Asche.

To match her childish mindset, I had to respond in kind. It seemed to keep the conversation moving smoothly.

Still sulking, Asche stopped in front of a large door.

“Butler, what’s this room?”

“A communal lounge.”

“Oh, perfect! I’m tired from all this walking. Let’s rest for a bit.”

“As you wish.”

Without hesitation, Asche opened the door to the lounge.

Inside was a lifeless space devoid of warmth.

A long, empty sofa sat alongside a tea table, while a few neatly arranged cots suggested the owner’s care for their staff. Towering over the room, a knight’s statue stood vigil by the cold fireplace.

“Wow. Even in the palace, maids don’t get to rest on cots during work. How could a noble allow their staff to lie down like this?”

“This… surprises me as well.”

It seemed the diaries’ descriptions of the Arkaden mansion weren’t exaggerations.

“I was going to rest, but now I’m too curious. Let’s search the room first.”

“An admirable decision.”

I refrained from vocalizing my praise, worried it might set a precedent for bad habits.

“Butler, let’s grab that sword first. Look—it’s not just decorative; it’s a real blade!”

“Can you wield a sword?”

“Didn’t I tell you I was the academy’s top student? I aced swordsmanship, of course. Royals are naturally superior in every way!”

With surprising ease, Asche lifted the heavy blade in one hand, proving her claims about her strength.

It seemed humility was the only virtue she hadn’t inherited.

After placing the sword into her leather pouch, she shot me a teasing smirk.

“Hmph, Butler. You don’t know anything about swordsmanship, do you? Looks like I’ll have to protect you. How unmanly.”

“I’d rather not be protected, thank you.”

“Ugh, so prideful.”

If only someone—anyone—could end my life, I’d welcome it. Perhaps the mansion’s horrors could succeed where others had failed.

Still, I found myself hoping in vain.

“Hmm?”

A glint from within the fireplace caught my eye.

Approaching quickly, I reached into the soot-filled fireplace and pulled out a small object.

“A coin…?”

[Item: Coin]

[Hold onto it, and something good might happen…?]

Unlike when I retrieved the diaries, the system displayed a message. This coin seemed to possess unique properties, much like the leather pouch.

I handed it to Asche.

“Keep this. It may prove useful.”

“Huh? Okay. If you insist, there must be something special about it. But this fireplace…”

After storing the coin in her pouch, Asche crouched by the fireplace and began sifting through the ashes with her bare hands.

“Butler.”

“Yes, Asche?”

Her tone grew unusually subdued, and her expression turned somber. Whatever she was about to say, it weighed heavily on her.

“Do you know what’s suspicious about fireplaces?”

“Is there a reason?”

“Yeah.”

Her eyes drooped as if recalling a painful memory, while a faint, bitter smile played on her lips.

“My eldest brother… he used to send me poison. Do you know how I dealt with it?”

“…”

“I smashed the vials in the fireplace and set them alight. That way, the poison’s fumes would disperse. Or so I was told. I didn’t really understand the details.”

Asche fell silent after sharing this unsettling recollection.

A moment later, she pulled out a partially burned piece of blue fabric.

“Ugh, just some half-burnt cloth. The material’s not bad, though. Who would throw this away? Must’ve been too pricey for a servant’s salary.”

She tossed the fabric back into the ashes with a nonchalant shrug.

“Asche.”

Her demeanor seemed off. Her eyes avoided mine, drifting awkwardly to the side.

An uncomfortable silence hung between us until Asche broke it herself.

“Butler, isn’t it strange?”

“What is?”

“I’m stuck here because of you… and honestly, I want to slap you silly right now. But…”

Still seated on the floor, she hugged her knees and swayed slightly, like a wobbly doll regaining balance.

“…even though we’ve only just met, you feel like the only ally I have. Maybe it’s because you don’t sugarcoat your words or flatter me. I can’t remember the last time I trusted someone.”

Despite her usual arrogance, Asche extended her pinky finger toward me.

“Butler.”

“Yes?”

“Don’t betray me.”

“…”

“Promise, okay?”

Half-forcing me to link our pinkies, she murmured softly,

“It’s a promise, right?”

I couldn’t stamp a thumbprint of commitment.

Were it possible for me to escape, I would abandon her and this cursed life without hesitation.

Fulfilling the naïve hope of a girl unfamiliar with the world seemed beyond me.

“…I promise.”

And yet, swept up in her sincerity, I pressed my thumb to hers.

Despite knowing it might all be a lie.