His father was also standing with a long sword, rain or shine. 

Oscar quietly observed the impassive face of his father’s statue before pulling out a cigarette. 

Simon, who had been reading documents across from him, glanced at Oscar upon catching the scent of the cigarette before looking out the window. He saw the back of the former Marquis’ statue. When he turned his gaze back to Oscar, he saw that Oscar had propped his elbow on the windowsill. The night breeze tousled his dark hair, blending with the night itself. 

It seemed as though he could still smell the scent of blood lingering beneath the acrid scent of the cigarette. 

The stench of blood hadn’t faded. But then again, had it ever? Oscar’s nights were always like this. Occasionally, the scent reminded him of the woman who had been on his mind, whose presence, actions, and scent had occupied a corner of his thoughts these past few days. Perhaps his habit of searching for the elusive key had now become fixated on her. There were moments when her fragrance would come to mind. 

She had asked if he was coming, and now he was on his way to a place steeped in death. 

At this hour, she might be asleep. Or perhaps she was hesitating, like at the hotel, wondering if she should say something. 

His thoughts, unusually inefficient and sentimental, swirled in his mind. 

He clicked his tongue, half in self-mockery, and exhaled his thoughts along with the acrid smoke. 

Simon quietly looked away. He considered returning to the documents, but the carriage had almost arrived at the mansion by then. As he closed the file, he heard the distant sound of the gates opening. It seemed the wolves were opening the gates in anticipation of their master’s return. 

The carriage quickly passed through the gates. 

The forest surrounding the mansion seemed to crash down around them, welcoming their return. The wind, now even cooler from the forest’s shade, rushed against them. 

Oscar stared at the forest with indifferent eyes. He took a deep drag of the remaining cigarette before exhaling slowly. The carriage emerged from the forest, and the wolves waiting for him appeared in the distance. The wolves lined up and bowed deeply as the carriage pulled up to the main entrance. 

Oscar extinguished the cigarette in the ashtray before stepping out of the carriage. 

“My lord, you’ve returned.” 

Barbara bowed deeply. 

Oscar brushed past Barbara without a word, and she waited until he passed before straightening up and following him. They had only taken a few steps when Oscar came to a halt. 

As if on cue, the wolves raised their heads in unison. Their numbers were far greater than usual. Oscar slowly surveyed the gathered wolves. 

“Are you looking for Abel?” 

Oscar turned his gaze towards Barbara, who had spoken. As his eyes landed on her, several of the wolves exhaled the breaths they had been holding. 

“He left with the young lady this morning and hasn’t returned yet. The backup team hasn’t reported anything unusual, so there’s probably no need for concern.” 

Oscar slipped his hands into his pockets and asked, “What time is it?” 

“It’s 21:58.” 

“I heard she’s usually back by six in the evening and in bed by ten at the latest.” 

The thought amused him. 

Oscar’s laugh seemed to ease the tension that had gripped the wolves. Emboldened, one of them spoke up. 

“We were just talking about that. She used to look like death warmed over by six, but tonight, there hasn’t been a peep from her.” 

Oscar glanced at the speaker, still smiling. 

“It can only mean one thing, right?” 

“They’re probably having a grand time if you know what I mean.” 

The wolf who had spoken made a lewd gesture, prompting the others to burst into laughter. Simon frowned in disgust, while Barbara remained expressionless. Oscar let out a wry chuckle and began walking towards the mansion. 

“I told him I’d strip him of his title as a seducer if he succeeded. I wonder if he’s going to pull it off.” 

Hearing this, the wolves laughed even louder, and Oscar leisurely entered the house he hadn’t seen in a while. 

The mansion, a symbol of ostentatious death, was cold no matter the season. 

“Since you didn’t give specific instructions after your initial orders, I haven’t moved the young lady’s room.” 

Barbara, following behind him, began reporting unprompted. 

“So far, there’s been nothing particularly suspicious inside the mansion. She didn’t go anywhere she wasn’t supposed to. When told not to open the door leading from the library to your bedroom, she didn’t even touch the doorknob.” 

Oscar could almost picture the overly cautious woman, too timid even to glance at the door, let alone touch it. Despite her timidity, there was a sense that something might happen soon, just across from her bedroom.