Surviving in the Cursed Mansion

Chapter 16: The duchess’ Whereabouts (3)

It all happened in the blink of an eye.

Without warning, three pairs of hands reached out from the painting and bound Asche, forcibly pulling her into their world.

Asche was dragged in so quickly that she didn’t even have time to scream. 

Almost mockingly, the surrounding portraits contorted their faces into various expressions and began to sing.

[We are the records etched into the frames of this mansion♪]

[Facing the girl who must uncover the truth.]

[Life or death depends on the right choices.]

[Walk the path to the ideal future♪]

The chorus of portraits finished their song with those ominous lyrics. Just as silence began to settle, another tune echoed faintly from somewhere down the hallway they had passed.

[Lead the man she loved most to her side.]

[It shall be the final trial.]

That was the last line. The butler strained to listen, but no other sounds followed.

Turning back, he stepped forward to confront the animated paintings.

“Where did you take Asche?”

He asked directly. One of the portraits answered with a smirk.

“She’s gone to walk the proper path.”

“Forgive me, but unlike Asche, I’m not afraid of you.”

“Wouldn’t it be strange for one specter to fear another?”

“Enough with the wordplay.”

The butler pulled the painting from the wall and immediately shattered the glass protecting it.

Crash!

Crinkle…

Now, the painting was nothing more than a piece of paper. If he tore it in two, it would become worthless trash.

“If you won’t give me a straight answer, I’ll simply destroy you.”

“How curious. You desire death, yet you think we’re any different?”

“…”

“Hah, it makes sense. You’re not even aware of what you truly are.”

The butler felt irritation rising for the first time in a long while.

Unlike him, whom the mansion forced to keep existing, these paintings could find release simply by being destroyed. It was absurdly unfair.

“Haah…”

The painting fluttered to the ground as the butler let it slip from his fingers. He stomped on it, grinding it beneath his heel.

“You might have options, but I don’t. If Asche fails, all that awaits me is despair.”

He was furious.

The way these things treated his sole purpose as mere amusement disgusted him.

“What will it take for us to have an honest conversation?”

Glancing at the shards of glass scattered on the floor, he cast the painting onto them haphazardly.

“May you find peace in the afterlife.”

He lifted his foot, intending to stomp the painting into oblivion when—

Jerk!

He froze, his heel hovering above the painting.

It was an involuntary restriction.

The sensation was reminiscent of when he had acted as a proper butler when Asche first entered the mansion.

“Y-you mustn’t do that.”

Crackle, buzz.

A distorted voice, filled with static, came from behind him.

This strange, faltering speech—it was familiar.

It was the same voice that had intervened and penalized him when he lured the hunting dog while wearing Maid A’s dress.

…Though the penalty hadn’t been enforced at the time.

“Do─not dirty the fraaames.”

Tick, tock.

The shards of glass trembled violently.

Moments later, the fragments, along with the torn painting, floated into the air. Suspended, they seemed to reverse time, reassembling into an intact frame and returning to their place on the wall.

The portraits that had previously sneered now avoided his gaze, lowering their eyes to the ground.

‘The portraits… are afraid?’

What could possibly frighten them?

If he and these paintings had one thing in common, it was their shared acceptance of death as a form of salvation.

In other words, something far more terrifying than death itself had just appeared behind him.

“…Retia?”

He spoke instinctively, letting intuition guide him.

The mistress of this mansion was supposedly the “young lady.” Meanwhile, the title of the game he had inhabited was The Diary of Retia.

The person servants revered was usually their master.

While the connection wasn’t airtight, it seemed highly likely that Retia was central to the mansion’s mysteries.

“Aah, uuuh, aaah…”

The thing behind him groaned. Its voice was laced with ear-scratching static.

“Ha-happy─.”

At that moment, the butler turned swiftly to look. But the entity that had terrified the portraits had already vanished, dissipating like a heat mirage.

Whoever or whatever it was, the butler was left with the distinct feeling that he had just experienced something truly ghostly.

“So many riddles…”

Was Asche safe?

Without his trusted shield, she was likely in a panic within the world of the painting.

“…Ah.”

An idea struck him as he paced like a dog chasing its tail.

Standing before the portrait that had swallowed Asche, he spoke aloud.

“Take me to that place.”

The painting depicted a vivid scene of a maid chatting in the mansion’s courtyard.

***

“KYAAAAAAHHHH!?”

Asche’s high-pitched scream echoed, carried by the gentle breeze to all corners of the courtyard. It was so loud that everyone around turned to look at her.

One of them walked over with an annoyed expression.

“What’s with all the yelling? I’m hanging laundry, and you’re out here making a scene.”

“Laundry? Me? How dare you!”

“Oh, have you lost your mind? Who do you think you’re talking to?”

Thwack!

The woman smacked Asche hard on the back.

“Ow…!”

A sharp pain shot up Asche’s spine to the top of her head. Tears threatened to escape, but she held them back, huffing angrily.

“How dare you lay a hand on me! Who do you think you are?!”

“Me? I’m Elne. And you’re Selly, the useless maid.”

“…What did you just call me?”

“A fool, an idiot, and a failure named Selly.”

Receiving such an absurd introduction from a stranger, Asche glanced around her surroundings and examined her own appearance.

Unlike the mansion’s dark interior, the courtyard was bright and serene, with a clear blue sky and gently swaying grass. Wet sheets hung on a laundry line nearby.

Looking down at herself, she saw a flat chest and a plain maid’s uniform that she most certainly hadn’t been wearing before.

“Why… why am I…!”

Her shock only lasted a moment before the memory of being pulled into the painting resurfaced.

‘That’s right…! Just a moment ago, I was in the mansion hallway, talking to the butler.’

As she calmly reviewed her situation, the reality hit her.

Out of nowhere, the painting had dragged her into its frame.

Which meant this place was likely the world depicted in the painting.

‘But why does it all feel so familiar?’

Asche pushed her way through the hanging sheets. But before she could get far, Elne—the maid who had introduced herself earlier—stepped in her path.

“Where do you think you’re going? You’re not leaving until you’ve finished your work!”

“Shut up. I’ll deal with you later. I have something to check first…”

Asche brushed past Elne, but a forceful hand clamped down on her shoulder.

“Don’t go. Finish your work.”

“Tch, you’re impossible. I’ll just—what?!”

Asche, initially irritated, was ready to lash out as she usually would. But the moment she met Elne’s eyes again, her harsh words were swallowed back down her throat.

“You must. Do. What you’re. Supposed to. By the rules.”

Elne’s grip tightened on Asche’s shoulder, and her appearance had become horrifyingly grotesque.

She resembled a desiccated mummy, her skin shriveled and lifeless. Worse, her eye sockets, nose, and mouth were infested with writhing maggots and scavengers, a nauseating sight that made Asche recoil.

“F-fine! Laundry! I’ll do the laundry!”

She blurted out whatever came to mind in an attempt to escape the situation.

Surprisingly, as soon as Elne registered Asche’s compliance, her appearance instantly returned to that of an ordinary human.

For a moment, Asche doubted her senses.

‘…There’s no way that was just my imagination!’

This mansion was utterly deranged.

How could anyone demand logic and realism in a place that could pull people into paintings?

‘Still… I’m sure of it.’

Just before Elne had grabbed her, Asche had noticed something.

The scenery felt strangely familiar. And then it hit her.

“The Imperial Palace?!”

“Of course it’s the Imperial Palace. What, did you think it was some shantytown?”

“That’s not what I meant…! Ugh, never mind. Why am I even talking to someone as fake as you?”

“What’s that supposed to mean? You’re acting extra stuck-up for a maid today.”

“Maybe because I’m not really a maid.”

Asche spoke with biting sarcasm.

Whether Selly, the maid whose body she inhabited, had always been this abrasive, or Elne was just used to it, the latter seemed to shrug it off.

‘I should’ve known. Even for a maid’s uniform, this one is painfully outdated…!’

But more than that, the palace itself was gleaming.

According to the history Asche had learned, the Imperial Palace had been reconstructed around 500 years ago, during the reign of the emperor who commanded the seventy-two Star Knights at the height of the empire’s golden age.

‘This must be 500 years ago. It has to be.’

The mansion had paintings engraved with prophecies from 500 years ago.

Additionally, the Duchess seen on the staircase was identified as the first Duchess of the Arkaden family.

This suggested that the Arkaden lineage had both been born and fallen around 500 years prior.

“Well, this works in my favor. If this is the past, I can dig up clues right in the open…”

“You’re muttering to yourself like a weirdo.”

Elne snarked, but it didn’t penetrate Asche’s deeper musings.

As they continued working, a noblewoman passing nearby suddenly stopped.

After whispering something to a man in light armor, the man nodded and began walking toward the laundry area.

“Hey, you lot.”

“Yes?”

“Hmm?”

Elne responded while Asche released a breath of puzzlement.

The man ignored their reactions and spoke curtly.

“The Lady wants one of you to act as her errand girl.”

This is the worst.

That was Asche’s blunt and honest thought.