From Corpse to Crown: Reborn as a Mortician in Another World-Chapter 11: Mistress of the House, Pt 2

Lucy couldn't have frozen the well water. Lucian was sure of that. It had been years since anyone had visited her well, and yet, when he went, the water was perfectly drinkable. If she had wanted to be mean, she would've done so while we talked.

Lucian felt a lightness in his heart after that thought and felt comforted. "I know you aren't like that," he murmured. The pendant around his neck was pleasantly cool--it was a welcome sensation, unlike the situation in the living room.

He followed Lira down the hall and noticed her shoes were oddly in sync with the sound of the clock ticking behind him. The scent of pinkberry tea lingered like perfume spilled on a tea cozy.

Lucian stepped into the dining room and found a rugged round table in the center, covered in a pressed linen cloth. But what was strange were the napkins. Lira had set four places at the table, with a napkin folded into a lotus shape at each setting.

But Lira had only made tea for two.

Lucian sat down, eyes flicking to the silver tray between them. Lira had chosen a porcelain teapot painted with tiny lilies. It looked cute and expensive—the kind his mom would pull out once a year, after making sure no kids were attending.

Lira poured for him first, then herself. "Black tea with grapefruit..." She performed her role well enough but seemed a little too stiff. "Do you take honey?" she asked politely, though the jar was already in her hand.

"Yes," Lucian said and watched as she gently turned the honey wand. He was amazed that an ancient ceramic jar could hold honey that looked like it had been gathered that morning.

This 𝓬ontent is taken from freeweɓnovel.cѳm.

A long, thin amber ribbon sank into his cup. After three turns, he raised his index finger. "That's fine. Thank you, Lira."

He watched the steam curl from his cup and drank. It filled his empty stomach, and Lucian realized he hadn't had anything to eat since yesterday.

I wish I had some bread to go with this. Or a scone. It's delicious. Wait. Say that, Lucian. "Do you like scones?" He sighed inwardly. "Sorry. The tea is delicious, that's... why I asked... sorry. Just forget it."

Lira smiled and left the kitchen for a moment. "Of course, how rude of me." He sincerely had no idea what she was up to—maybe it was just an extra bit of immersion.

The minute she left, he felt the ominous presence of the shadow woman again. But when she tried to sit next to Lucian, the napkins glowed and formed a barrier. He felt her barely disguised irritation and was extremely glad she had no way to approach him right now.

As he waited for Lira to return, Lucian tried not to think about how the pendant against his chest had gone ice-cold. Then he heard her voice. "I don't know if it has scones, but... here. See what this has for you."

Lira was holding out a cookie jar in the shape of a ceramic townhouse, with the words "Emergency Treats"—in the same way Lucy had held out the water bucket for him. He heard the shadow woman snarl behind him, and a shushing sound from Lira.

It was hunger, more than anything else, that prompted him to open the cookie jar's lid. Lucian fully expected it to be empty and just play along, but he smelled something heavenly. He reached in and pulled out a scone.

He looked in the jar—it was heavy with scones piled on top of one another, like Lira had just baked them. Lucian saw pastries bursting with strawberries, chocolate chips, dried fruits, and—his absolute favorite—blueberries.

Normally Lucian would have asked Lira if the scones were safe to eat, but they looked delicious and he was starving. He bit down into the tender crust and felt some shame, like he was as feral little thing. But it was quickly replaced with tears.

The scone was delicious, but also reminded him of his grandmother's recipe. The same one he had been struggling to make for three years.

Thank you. I haven't thought about her in forever.

For the first time since he arrived, he was grateful for magic. Lucian couldn't believe he took it for granted before, eating his grandmother's scones any time he wanted.

And then she died before I could ask her for the recipe. I stopped eating scones altogether after that.

Lira smiled in understanding and pulled out a strawberry scone. There was a comfortable silence for a moment, save for the faint clink of ceramic and Lucian blowing his nose.

+

"You saw her, didn't you?" the maid asked quietly, not meeting his eyes.

Lucian dried his tears with a handkerchief and lowered his cup. "The woman by the fireplace?"

Lira stared at the tablecloth. "She's a pretender. Loves it when people remember her face. But it's not hers."

As she spoke, Lucian saw smoky tendrils gather around the shadow, eyes obscured with the large hat. "Then...who is she?" he blinked and she disappeared.

He felt a slow chill bloom in his chest.

For the first time, Lira followed Lucian's gaze. "Mm. A guest who stayed too long. She believes she's the host. And by the look of it..."

Something thudded overhead.

"Is going to throw a tantrum."

Lucian looked at the ceiling. That hadn't come from the hallway. I just saw it disappear from the dining room...how fast is she?

"You have an attic?" he asked. He didn't even know the house had one. As soon as he asked, the noises grew louder, like someone had thrown furniture across the room.

Lira shook her head and began collecting the cups. "If she tries to speak again, don't reply. Beyond this room, she can only reach you if you answer her."

Lucian swallowed hard. "...what if I already did?"

As soon as the words left his mouth, he started smelling smoke and saw one corner of his napkin was burning. Lira frowned and one ceramic cup trembled slightly in her grip.

"Then...I will make sure she doesn't get to keep you."

+

Outside, the hallway looked darker than before. The duck clock's ticking was more ominous than friendly, and the candle outside flickered. He heard the faint creak of a floorboard upstairs.

Slow.

Deliberate.

And incredibly out of sync with the clock.

He turned to say something to Lira—but she was gone. Three out of the four napkins were unharmed, but as the footsteps came closer, the first napkin continued to burn. The barrier around him shrank a little, and dark, shadowy tendrils began to creep around its edges.

"Lucian..."

The pendant around his neck rattled with a low, pulsing rhythm. His hand instinctively wrapped around the coin Lucy had given him.

"Lucian..."

The voice had entered the hallway and rounded the corner. Feminine. Cloyingly sweet—almost sour.

"Would you mind helping me with the curtains?"

One of the napkins fully caught on fire, and the lights dimmed further. The hallway stretched, and the creeping tendrils grew more opaque now—a little more real. They wanted him, reaching out like crooked fingers.

Lucian didn't respond. He held his breath.

I really wish I hadn't forgotten my walking cane.