Free Web NovelGeorg hated this job.
It wasn't that the money was bad; the money was great. Viscount Rosenthal was generous, paying him three times what he earned as a patrolman in the city, with room and board included, and even the occasional glass of decent Rye Whiskey.
But the problem was—
It was so damn boring.
The manor was situated in the hills on the outskirts of Victoria, surrounded by bare winter woods, with the nearest neighbor three kilometers away.
No one came, and no one left.
His daily work consisted of pacing back and forth in the corridors, checking doors and windows, and then pacing some more.
Occasionally, he'd chat with colleagues during shift changes about the weather, horse racing, or whether the new maid in the kitchen had a boyfriend.
Georg leaned against the wall of the second-floor corridor and yawned.
The corridor was long, covered in a deep red carpet, with dark wood-paneled walls on both sides. Gas wall lamps hung every few meters, their flames flickering inside glass shades, stretching his shadow long and flat.
The air smelled of old wood, mixed with the scent of dust accumulated in the carpet over the years.
He looked down at his pocket watch.
9:17 PM.
Forty-three minutes until the shift change.
He yawned again.
To be honest, he still hadn't figured out what he was guarding.
The Viscount only said that an "important guest" lived in the manor and that her "safety" needed to be ensured.
Safety.
Georg sneered inwardly.
The guest's room was locked from the outside, the windows were nailed shut, and someone stood guard at the door twenty-four hours a day.
You call that safety?
That's imprisonment.
Still, it was none of his business.
He was paid to do a job.
If the Viscount told him to watch, he watched.
As for who was locked inside, why, or for how long—
Don't ask about things you shouldn't know.
Footsteps echoed from the end of the corridor.
Light and unhurried.
Georg looked up.
Red hair.
Deep green eyes.
The young lady of the Rosenthal family.
Charlotte was wearing a grey casual dress with a deep blue wool shawl draped over her shoulders, carrying a tray in her hands.
On the tray were a teapot, two cups, and a small plate of biscuits.
Georg stood up straight.
"Miss Rosenthal."
"It's so late, you—"
"I couldn't sleep,"
Charlotte said.
Her tone was flat.
"I wanted a cup of tea."
Georg looked at the tray.
Two cups.
His gaze lingered on Charlotte's face for a moment.
Charlotte's expression didn't change at all.
"The tea in the kitchen wasn't very good, so I had them change the pot,"
she said.
"I brought a cup for you as well."
She held out the tray toward him.
Georg hesitated.
According to the Viscount's orders, the young lady could move freely within the manor but couldn't leave or approach the guest's room.
Right now, she was standing in the corridor, more than ten meters away from the locked door. ƒreewebηoveℓ.com
Technically, no rules were being broken.
And—
Those biscuits did smell quite good.
The aroma of butter and cinnamon.
"Thank you, Miss."
He reached for the cup.
The corner of Charlotte's mouth twitched slightly.
Had Georg looked closer, he might have noticed it wasn't exactly a friendly smile.
Georg picked up the teacup and blew on the steam.
Just as he brought it to his lips—
A sharp pain shot through the back of his head.
Dull and solid.
It felt like being struck hard with a hammer, yet not quite as heavy, the force precisely calibrated between "knocking you unconscious" and "not crushing your skull."
The teacup slipped from his hand.
Hot tea spilled onto «N.o.v.e.l.i.g.h.t» the carpet with a muffled sound.
Georg's knees buckled.
His vision began to darken.
His brain, with a clarity like a final flash before death, began to deduce the current situation.
Miss Rosenthal.
Delivering tea late at night.
And intentionally standing right in front of him to draw his attention.
She was bait.
Georg sighed inwardly.
To have the master's daughter personally act as bait just to knock him out, he must have been caught up in something big.
Something huge, troublesome, and very likely lethal.
He knew it.
Guarding a locked-up guest for triple the salary—how could such a good thing not come with a price?
Thus, Georg made the wisest decision of his life.
He relaxed his body.
Every muscle, from his neck to his toes, went limp.
No struggling, no shouting, no resisting.
Cleanly and efficiently, he slumped onto the carpet like a deflated bag of flour.
He opened his mind completely, letting the darkening vision spread faster.
He had to pass out quickly while he still could.
See nothing.
Know nothing.
When he woke up, he'd say he was ambushed from behind and didn't see who it was at all.
That way, no matter which side won, he could still keep his life.
The only pity was that the biscuit looked so delicious; he should have moved faster and stuffed it into his mouth before collapsing.
Then, everything faded into darkness.
Victoria stood behind Georg, holding a section of iron chain she had torn from her shackles. One end was wrapped around her fist, while the other hung down, its broken end jagged and glinting coldly under the gas lamps.
She looked down at the guard on the floor.
Motionless.
Breathing steadily.
"...Is he out?"
Charlotte cautiously approached, still holding the tray. The teapot wobbled slightly from her nervousness, dripping a few drops of tea from its spout.
Victoria knelt down and pressed her fingers against Georg's neck.
Pulse stable.
Breathing even.
He was even snoring a little.
"He's out,"
Victoria said.
"And he was very cooperative about it."
She tilted her head.
"I get the feeling he chose to pass out at the end."
"Huh?"
"Forget it, it's not important."
Victoria stood up and shook the chain on her wrist.
Then she turned and gave Charlotte a bright smile.
Her emerald eyes sparkled like two gems in the dim corridor.
"We did it!"
she whispered, but the excitement in her voice was irrepressible.
She raised her right hand.
Charlotte was taken aback for a moment.
Then she smiled too.
She set the tray on the floor and raised her hand.
*Clap.*
Their palms met in a soft high-five.
The sound was faint.
But both of them were smiling.
Victoria grinned, revealing two small canine teeth.
As Charlotte smiled, she suddenly felt a wave of emotion.
She looked at the guard who had collapsed so readily on the floor.
Then she looked at Victoria.
Then back at the guard.
She sighed.
"You know what?"
she said.
"I'm suddenly starting to feel a bit sorry for my father."
Victoria blinked.
"Huh?"
"To go to such lengths for the so-called family honor."
Charlotte fished a ring of keys from Georg's belt.
"Exploiting his daughter's friendship to kidnap a Marquis's daughter."
"I used to think he was just stubborn, but now I finally understand."
"He's gone mad."
"Charlotte—"
"It's okay,"
Charlotte interrupted her.
She looked up.
Her expression was calm.
But beneath that calmness lay something resolute.
"I've made up my mind."
She looked at Victoria.
A determined light flickered in her deep green eyes.
"I no longer care what happens to the Rosenthal family."
"But I must get you out of here safely."
Victoria looked back at her.
She reached out and gently took Charlotte's hand.
"We'll get out together,"
she said.
"I won't leave you behind."
Charlotte's eyes grew a bit red.
She nodded vigorously.
"All right."
She took a deep breath.
"We still have time, but not much."
She looked toward the end of the corridor.
"It's 9:20 PM; the shift change is at 10:00 sharp."
"Forty minutes left."
Victoria nodded.
"The plan you mentioned before—"
"Right,"
Charlotte said.
"This manor has only one exit."
"The main gate."
"But the main gate has an alarm system."
"The moment someone tries to leave, the alarm will sound throughout the entire manor."
She paused.
"So we must take out as many guards as possible before triggering the alarm."
"The more people we deal with now, the fewer we'll have to face when the alarm goes off."
Victoria raised an eyebrow.
"How many guards are in the manor in total?"
"Twelve."
Charlotte said.
"Divided into three shifts, four people per shift."
"The second shift is on duty now."
"But as the shift change approaches, guards are usually more lax."
"Some will head to the lounge early, and some will slack off in the corridors."
"This is our chance."
Victoria smiled.
"You've even figured that out."
"I've been under house arrest here for nearly a month."
Charlotte rolled her eyes at her.
"What else was there to do besides observe this?"
They dragged Georg and stuffed him into the storage room at the end of the corridor.
Their movements weren't exactly practiced, but they were careful, making almost no noise.
Charlotte casually took a biscuit from the tray and tucked it into Georg's coat pocket.
Victoria watched her.
"...What are you doing?"
"Leaving one for him,"
Charlotte said.
"The way he looked at the biscuits earlier was quite pitiful."
Victoria was stunned for a moment, then chuckled.
"You,"
"are really strange sometimes."
"Likewise."
Charlotte closed the storage room door.
She turned around.
"Let's go. Time for the next one."
