Lily Emblem

Chapter 1

Lily Emblem

(1. A Strange Legacy)

In the autumn of 1886, I finally ended my mission in India and was honorably discharged from the British Royal Army's Bombay garrison with the title of captain, returning to London after a long absence.

For a man nearing thirty, the most important thing for me right now is to find a satisfactory job, propose to a lady, and start a happy family. But unfortunately, unlike others, I didn't bring back large chests of treasure from India. Besides a meager pension, all I had was a sun-kissed body and my "first mate"—a two-year-old rhesus monkey whose mother had been killed in a trap at our camp. I adopted this nursing little guy to keep me company.

I know it will be difficult to achieve my simple wish with just these two things, but fortunately I also have a pretty appearance and a bit of heroic military history, which may still be attractive to some naive girls.

But God is merciful. He knew that I had never taken off the cross around my neck since I was a child, that I always prayed regularly, and that I never missed a single Mass. So when I had spent the last penny in my pocket and was preparing for a financial deficit, a telegram saved me from my predicament.

It was an official letter from Field Law Firm, supposedly asking me to accept an inheritance.

Because I had been away from England for seven years after my parents passed away and had lost contact with many relatives, I racked my brains but couldn't think of anyone who would mention me in their will. However, swayed by the promise of money, I decided to go anyway, even if it was just for a pound, so that I wouldn't have to worry about breakfast the next day.

So I dressed in my best clothes and, with my first mate, went to 67 Rue de Rélay, an old two-story building. I guessed it was from the time of His Majesty George, because I knocked very carefully. A secretary wearing a stiff headscarf led me upstairs to the second floor, where a short, stout man with a protruding belly greeted me warmly. He rubbed his hands together and invited me to sit down in an armchair.

“You know, Mr. Green, this is all very sudden, and I’m very sorry.” His long beard and upper lip twitched. “But I still have to ask you to come; it’s my job.”

“Yes, Mr. Field, I understand.” The first mate perched on my shoulder, and I tried to be as polite as possible. “In fact, well, I should say I’m very grateful to you.”

"Ah, ah, then may I tell you the general situation first?" He took out a document from the drawer and waved it. "Please forgive me, because not all the heirs in the will have arrived, I cannot disclose the contents, but I think you should know who has so kindly considered your situation."

"I'm curious too."

Do you know Mrs. Lily Brooks?

I stroked the first mate's paws, a bewildered expression on my face.

"Ah, she was called Mrs. Germice before her second marriage."

“Oh yes,” I exclaimed, “yes, I know her. She’s my… uh, my aunt.”

She was a reclusive and eccentric old woman, always dressed in dark clothes and wearing a black headscarf. When she got angry, she liked to hit people with her cane. I remember the first time my parents and I met her, she was relentlessly abusing a poor Persian cat, hitting its head with a feather cushion. Although she was very rich, extremely rich, relatives would only ask her for help as a last resort, because I had heard my father tell my mother in private that she was a "witch"... Of course, I think that probably mostly referred to her personality.

Did she leave me a share of her inheritance?

But she probably doesn't even remember what I look like—that's really strange.

Just as I was about to ask more questions, the secretary came in to announce that another heir had arrived. The lawyer politely invited me to sit in the small living room for a while, and I politely agreed.

About half an hour later, all the heirs arrived. I sat on a single sofa, leisurely watching them come in one after another, and the lawyer introduced us.

There were five people in total, all of them looking very young. The first to enter was a black-haired girl named Nora. Palmer was very beautiful, but unfortunately her skin was so pale it had a bluish tinge. She wore a high-necked brown dress and a mesh veil, and smiled kindly at me when she saw me.

Then came a young couple; the man was Anderson. Mr. Austin was tall, blond, and very handsome, dressed very fashionably in a grey top hat and lambskin gloves, with a large emerald at the top of his cane; Mrs. Austin, however, was plain-looking, but her flamboyant attire made her quite attractive. Her wide-brimmed hat had several large white feathers, and her long blue taffeta dress rustled as she passed me.

Another was a young man named Karl Dewey who looked to be in dire financial straits. He was wearing a gray-black khaki jacket, clutching a cap, and his blond hair was messy. His green eyes, like those of a kind fawn, shone with a gentle light, instantly making me like him.

Sitting next to him was an unpleasant man, Terence Brooks, with a small mustache. He dressed like a nouveau riche, his square face adorned with rat-like eyes, and he arrogantly swept his gaze over each of us. He kept cracking his knuckles, making a snapping sound. I was genuinely worried his fingers would break at any moment.

Attorney Field, holding the stack of documents, invited us all to sit down, then closed the door and began his work. The man, nearing fifty, put on his monocle and carefully opened the documents he had been holding.

"Gentlemen and ladies," he began in a formulaic manner, "please forgive me for keeping you waiting so long, but now we can finally solemnly announce the will of Mrs. Lily Brooks, may God bless her soul to rest in peace... This kind lady had no children, so she left an estate of over one million pounds."

I gasped, and unsurprisingly, I noticed that others also showed varying degrees of surprise in their eyes.

"As Mrs. Brooks wished, she donated the five thousand pounds in cash in the bank to the church, and the securities were divided equally between her dying nurse, Mrs. Joker, and her old butler, Mr. Hans Luther. It's a pity they can't come to London now." The lawyer adjusted his glasses. "However, gentlemen, that's only twenty percent of the estate. The remaining eighty percent refers to the ancient Flores Manor. According to the will, you are all eligible to inherit, but only the person who finds the 'lily emblem' on the manor will become the official heir and own the property of Flores Manor; the others will be excluded."

His words left us looking at each other, as if we were all somewhat confused by this strange will—I touched the first mate, not too surprised, though I would have been more surprised if my beloved aunt had so easily left us such a large house.

The first to lose his composure was Terence Brooks. He jumped up as if scalded by boiling water: "Oh God, what kind of will is this? Does she mean she didn't leave us what was due, and instead wants us to play a treasure hunt?"

“Mr. Brooks…” Attorney Field tried to calm him down, somewhat awkwardly.

"Besides, why should I share my stepmother's property with so many people—" He glanced at me arrogantly, "—especially those pale-faced young men I've never even met before! Everything originally belonged to me!"

I was truly at a loss for words. It wasn't my fault that I was good-looking, and the habit of not growing a beard started in the army. Wasn't he being far too picky? The first mate, perched on my shoulder, grinned maliciously at the mean-spirited gentleman. I picked up a slice of apple from the fruit plate and shoved it into his hand.

"So Auntie means we have to find that thing she mentioned in the manor in order to have any chance of getting... getting her gift?" Mrs. Austin asked in a low voice.

“Absolutely right, madam.” The lawyer nodded.

Mr. Dewey thought carefully for a moment: "But... what is the 'lily emblem'?"

“I don’t know, sir.” The portly reader of the will took out a handkerchief and wiped his forehead. “Mrs. Brooks didn’t say it explicitly; she thought you would understand.”

“But we don’t understand at all.” The one who asked the question was Miss Palmer, who looked pale and confused. “We’ve never heard of any ‘heraldry’.”

“Ah, no need to rush,” the lawyer said, picking up the will. “Mrs. Brooks also said that you can stay at the manor for a month to investigate and search carefully. As long as you find it within this month, you can inherit the manor.”

"So what if no one is found within a month?" Mr. Austin asked.

"Then the manor will be auctioned off publicly, and the proceeds will be donated to the church."

"What!" Terence Brooks jumped up again. "You mean if we don't find that thing, we won't get a single penny?"

“Absolutely correct, sir.”

"This is absurd! What kind of ridiculous will is this?"

The lawyer's expression immediately turned serious: "Please do not question this, sir. This is a legally notarized document. If you are unwilling to participate in this month-long search, you may relinquish your inheritance rights."

The man's expression immediately changed: "Why should I give up! I'm going! That's mine!"

“Very well.” Mr. Filde smiled sarcastically. “And what about the rest of you? Please tell me your decisions.”

Miss Palmer and Mr. Dewey did not object; they indicated they were willing to give it a try. Mr. Austin whispered a few words to his wife and also decided to participate, then they both turned their gaze to me.

“Alright, everyone.” I looked at them with a smile, while feeding the first mate. “I would love to stay with you all for a month, but I hope you can allow me to be with my hairy friend. He’s a good boy.”

Everyone except Mr. Brooks laughed and welcomed the gesture, and the first mate squeaked happily.

(2. The Haunted Manor)

15:55:41

The journey from London to Devon is not too far. We rented two carriages and set off from Ryley Street toward Flores House.

Honestly, I was very lucky, because instead of the portly lawyer Field and the annoying mustachioed man, I had the petite and beautiful Miss Palmer and the seemingly nice Mr. and Mrs. Austin. Having two ladies around always made me feel good, and the first mate was happy too. It tumbled on the carriage floor, making everyone laugh, and Mrs. Austin even fed it some biscuits. The air was starting to get chilly as winter approached, so I brought all my warm clothes and a pistol. I didn't mean any harm, but carrying it to any unfamiliar place had become a habit, just like shaving every morning. It was tucked in my inner pocket; I didn't want anyone else to see it, as it might make them uncomfortable.

So far, apart from that rude Mr. Brooks, I find everyone else quite easy to get along with. They're all well-mannered and wouldn't ruin the competition for the sake of that house. And I also feel that, apart from Mr. Dewey and me, perhaps no one else has a strong need for money. This gives me some comfort, and I chat with the others while instructing the first mate to perform even more impressive maneuvers.

"You spent a few years in India, Mr. Green?" Miss Palmer asked me, showing great interest in my military career.

“Seven years, it started when I was twenty,” I told her. “That’s why I’ve become estranged from many of my relatives.”

“No wonder I’ve never seen you before.” She laughed. “By the way, have you ever been to Florence Manor?”

“I went there once when I was a child, but I can hardly remember what it looked like.”

“Oh, that place is not pleasant at all,” Mrs. Austin interjected, lowering her voice. “I’ve heard it’s a very unsafe place; some say there are vampires there.”

Miss Palmer exclaimed, "No! This can't be!"

“It’s true,” the lady, wearing a woolen shawl, said earnestly. “When I was very young, I heard that there were basically no people around the manor, only an abandoned churchyard and cemetery. Some villagers nearby once said that decades ago, many people lived there, but a vampire appeared, so everyone left. Later, the Brooks family asked a priest to kill the vampire and burn its body, and then the area became peaceful.”

“My God,” Miss Palmer quickly made the sign of the cross, “this is unbelievable, it’s terrible.”

“Oh, I’m scared too,” Mrs. Austin shrugged. “That’s why I rarely come here. Only my aunt can stand this place; no wonder people call her a ‘witch’…”

“Alright, Martha,” Mr. Austin said with a smile, taking his wife’s hand. “You always say these strange things; they’ll frighten Miss Palmer.”

Mrs. Austin stuck out her tongue like a young girl and nestled into her husband's arms.

They seemed to have a great relationship! I sighed with a touch of envy and turned my head to look out the car window.

It was getting dark, and the light was poor. The tall oak and pine trees lining the road looked like dark giants, surrounded by dense, low bushes. Occasionally, a bird or two would screech out and flutter through the air. As I gazed at this less-than-ideal scene, a white shadow flashed past me, seemingly walking alongside us, before quickly disappearing into the woods. I blinked hard, but saw nothing more, making me doubt my usually excellent eyesight.

After traveling for about another hour, the road began to narrow, and then the outline of the manor slowly came into view.

Mrs. Austen was right; this place was indeed unpleasant: despite its grand and magnificent structure, Florence House exuded an air of decay. Entering through the vine-covered gate, one could see the lawn, long neglected; the white exterior walls were riddled with holes, eroded by rain and time; even the reliefs on the pillars and window sills were incomplete. Ivy and heather grew wildly in the corners, their roots even penetrating the cracks in the foundations. All the doors and windows on the three floors were tightly shut, except for light shining from the porch. Three blurry figures stood there.

I got out of the car and helped the ladies in. Attorney Field was already calling to them: "Come on, Hans, quickly take the guests inside."

The tall, thin, white-haired man at the door gave us a stiff bow and said in a hollow voice, "Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. I am Hans Luther, the butler here. Welcome to Flores. Dinner is ready for you. Please come in."

He looked like a puppet, but we didn't mind. Mr. Brooks, on the other hand, swaggered in first, acting like the master of the house. Two middle-aged women dressed as maids carried our luggage out and quickly took it to the guest room.

"Ah, it's so cold here," Miss Palmer muttered beside me, leaning closer to me. I knew she was afraid of this environment, so I gently supported her. A blush rose on her pale face, and she smiled slightly at me. I whistled happily, and the first mate skipped and hopped after us.

It seems the manor was fully prepared after receiving Attorney Field's telegram. A hot dinner awaited us as soon as we stepped off the carriage; although not luxurious, the dishes were plentiful, and everyone was clearly satisfied.

I sat down next to Mr. Carl Dewey and looked around the room: the room was quite different from the exterior of the manor; the decor was exquisite, and it was spotless, with the silverware gleaming. The wainscoting and the paintings on the walls had vibrant colors and didn't look very old. The bright gaslights and candles provided warmth, and the snow-white tablecloth and sumptuous dishes made everyone forget the fatigue of the journey. I even noticed a smile on Mr. Brooks's lips.

"Ah, Hans, are the guests' rooms ready?" Attorney Field asked, stuffing chicken into his mouth.

"Yes, sir, everything is ready. Everyone except Mr. and Mrs. Austin will have their own room. However, there are only five guest rooms on the second floor, so one gentleman will have to stay on the third floor."

No one at the table spoke, seemingly thinking it was better to wait for others' reactions. I glanced at their expressions and smiled, "Then I'll go. Anyway, the first mate is always misbehaving at night; I can teach him a lesson."

My long-haired friend next to my chair barked twice in displeasure, so I tossed him a piece of cheese—sorry, I have to show a bit of chivalry at times like this, right? See, everyone's expressions are much more relaxed now.

“That’s settled then.” Mr. Field wiped his mouth. “Let’s get some rest today. I will officially start keeping track of time tomorrow, as Madam requested. Gentlemen, you’ll be busy from now on.”

Dinner ended quickly, and a rather voluptuous maid carrying a candlestick led the first mate and me to our bedroom. With a stiff expression, she lit the fireplace for me, then left the candlestick behind and prepared to leave.

“My name is Alice, Mr. Green. I will come to wake you at 7:30 tomorrow morning. I hope you get a good night’s sleep.” The maid stated her responsibilities in a dry tone, and then closed the door for me.

I took off my coat and threw it on the bed, took out my pistol and placed it under my pillow, then began to survey the room: even the fire couldn't dispel the damp, musty smell, which seemed to be mixed with the scent of camphor. There were some water stains on the walls in the corner, and the furniture was a dark brown, somewhat old, with cracks in the paint along the edges of the wood. The only thing that seemed somewhat better was the portrait above the fireplace—a young girl in a long white dress, smiling very sweetly, with long, golden hair flowing down her back, the sunlight casting a dazzling veil over her.

I took a candy out of my pocket and snapped my fingers at the first mate. It squeaked and jumped to my side. I stroked its head and apologized for what I'd said at dinner. It obediently sat by the bed, its round eyes darting around anxiously.

“It seems you don’t like it here either, do you?” I stretched out my arms and lay down. “To be honest, I don’t like it either, whether Aunt Lily is here or not; but there’s nothing we can do, we’re very poor now, and if we don’t have any inheritance, we might have to send you to the circus, my friend.”

The first mate scratched his ear sadly.

"So we have to try our best to find the 'Lily Crest,' but who knows what that is?" I turned over, trying to recall everything about Aunt Lily, but in my memory she didn't seem to like flowers, and she wasn't a noblewoman, so why would she leave behind the "Lily Crest"? Or perhaps her will had another meaning...

The fatigue of the journey didn't keep my thoughts flowing for long. As I drifted off to sleep, I vaguely felt—perhaps I should take a shower first…

...

I was sleeping soundly when, after what seemed like an eternity, a furry paw yanked at my hair, waking me. I opened my eyes and saw the First Officer whimpering in terror. The candles and the fire in the fireplace had long since gone out, and a damp, cold air enveloped me, seeping into my skin and every limb. A feeling I had never experienced before chilled me to the bone. It was so quiet that I could hear my joints creaking as I sat up. The moon was obscured by clouds, and there was no light in the room. I strained to see clearly.

The first mate's fur stood on end, and his throat was filled with unutterable cries. His fearful appearance startled me—he had rarely been so panicked, except for that one time when he encountered a Bengal tiger.

The courage and alertness I had honed in the army instantly filled me. I pulled my pistol from under my pillow, went barefoot to the floor, and searched for the source of the danger—a few wisps of night wind had slipped in through the slightly ajar window, and the dark curtains billowed. In that instant, I clearly saw a face pressed against the glass!

It was a face, pale-skinned, with blank eyes, and it was staring straight at me!

The moon cast a cold light from behind the dark clouds, and my blood felt like it was freezing—this was the third floor, and there was no balcony or any place to stand outside the window.

I gripped the gun tightly, mustered my courage, and shouted, "Who's there?"

The first mate yelled and scurried under the bed. I aimed my gun at the window and slowly approached. The moonlight was obscured by drifting clouds, and at the same time, the blurry face gradually disappeared. When I reached the window, I only saw a white shadow gliding lightly down the wall, its slow speed and unwavering form like soft smoke. Finally, it silently melted into the dark night…

That "thing" is definitely not human! Absolutely not!