Romantic Psycho - Chapter 1

The peaceful country estate of Winderbury.

An antique iron gate open to all, a well-polished path, and neatly trimmed branches.

A perfectly symmetrical mansion, wide white marble steps before the terrace, and a green lawn stretching toward the sea.

Beyond the picturesque mansion, the blue Leta Sea spread endlessly.

Winderbury, called the most beautiful mansion in the Kingdom of Rosen, was regarded as a symbol of nobility, leisure, and happiness.

There was something everyone said to Sir William Lockwood, the owner of the estate, in voices full of envy, as if joking:

“But Sir Lockwood, you have Winderbury.”

Sir William Lockwood was undoubtedly one of the happiest men in Rosen. He was still young and handsome, and held an earldom passed down through ten generations.

Wealth, lineage, good looks, a beautiful wife, and a healthy daughter born between them—

William, who had everything, surely must have been happy.

In fact, he believed himself to be the happiest man in the world.

At least, until his wife, the lady of Winderbury, Lizbell, suddenly lost her life in a car accident.

Sir William Lockwood, who had lost his beloved wife, was consumed by grief.

The iron gate of the estate shut tight. No more guests passed along the polished road.

Outwardly, the mansion remained pristine, but no longer did laughter or conversation drift from within.

Unable to endure his sorrow, Sir Lockwood collapsed into alcohol and drugs. During that time, the earl family’s finances began to crumble.

He lasted exactly one year after his wife died.

On the anniversary of her death, perhaps unable to bear the pain, he went out alone to the sea late at night, and was swallowed by the black waves.

Twenty days after he vanished from the shore, his corpse was washed ashore behind the Winderbury estate. His only daughter, Diane Lockwood, fainted on the spot upon identifying the body.

Some said it was an accident. Others whispered it was suicide. There were even those who claimed Lizbell’s ghost had taken him away.

Whatever the truth, as Sir William Lockwood had no son, the title passed to a distant relative, Mr. Walter Lockwood. Walter became Diane’s new guardian but refused to stay at Winderbury, saying it felt ominous.

And so Diane Lockwood was left alone at Winderbury. She was only fifteen years old at the time.

The shock must have been great, for Diane began to speak nonsense and showed signs of poor mental condition.

“I saw the future. No, I lived until I was twenty-one, and came back in time. What I mean is…”

The servants of Winderbury trembled in fear at the young lady’s rambling.

“My husband, Louis Boten, is going to kill me on our wedding day.”

Eventually, Diane began to insist that Louis Boten, with whom marriage talks were underway, would kill her. She pleaded to be sent to a convent instead.

Walter had no choice but to break off the engagement with Louis and quietly committed Diane to a mental hospital to avoid public attention.

The doctor gave a clear diagnosis, “Miss Lockwood is suffering temporary confusion due to the sudden loss of her parents.”

“Will she recover?”

The debt William Lockwood had left behind snowballed in mere months under the vain Walter Lockwood.

Treating Diane’s marriage as a once-in-a-lifetime business opportunity, Walter grew anxious that she might become useless in her condition.

The doctor’s words reassured him. “She is merely confusing nightmares with reality due to her emotional turmoil. It’s a very natural response, nothing to fear. With basic medication and daily counseling, she can definitely recover.”

Diane spoke a little more about what had happened to her. For some time, she persistently sought help, refusing to give up.

“I’m not insane. Please believe me. I was engaged to Louis Boten, and on our wedding night, while I waited for the consummation, Louis Boten…”

“Miss Lockwood. Please calm down. It was just a terrible nightmare.”

But each time, all that returned to her was an injection filled with unidentified drugs.

“It wasn’t a dream. I’m not insane…”

“After a little sleep, everything will be fine.”

“I’m not insane…”

At some point, Diane stopped speaking about what had happened to her. She was forced to accept the doctor’s words—that her body and mind were broken by the death of her parents.

When the patient began to show improvement, the doctor was pleased.

“Miss Lockwood is now ‘normal.'”

Diane was able to return to Winderbury after half a year of hospitalization. Publicly, it was said she had been on a six-month trip. Most of Winderbury’s staff who had witnessed her eccentricity had been replaced.

But just as there can be no perfect secrets, rumors soon began to spread that Diane Lockwood had gone mad.

Winderbury was no longer considered a symbol of happiness. Its name became synonymous with tragedy.

Five years passed.

The tragedy of the Lockwood family seemed to have been somewhat forgotten.

***

Diane’s eyes flew open.

For a while, she couldn’t move, as if time had frozen. Her bloodshot eyes shifted awkwardly as she surveyed her surroundings.

Thanks to the sunlight streaming through the curtains, she could make out the details of the room.

It was her bedroom in Winderbury. Only then did Diane finally come to her senses.

“…It was just a nightmare.”

Muttering as if reciting an incantation, Diane only managed to sit up long after. Her body, soaked in cold sweat, trembled uncontrollably.

Since her father’s death, Diane had suffered terrible nightmares almost every night. Even after returning from the mental hospital, the nightmares continued. But she never told anyone.

She never wanted to return to that place again.

By then, exhausted in every way, Diane had decided to believe she was at least somewhat insane. Because she slowly realized that believing so made things easier for both body and mind.

But lately, the nightmares had become incessant. She was terrified even of closing her eyes for a moment.

It started a few days ago, after the new Earl of Lockwood, Walter, and his wife Maria, visited Winderbury.

The new earl couple’s visit had come out of nowhere.

Understandably so—they both hated staying at Winderbury. The former earl had died under mysterious circumstances on the beach behind the estate. And after Diane was confined to a mental hospital and shut herself in her room, they avoided Winderbury even more.

So their sudden visit was for one reason: Diane’s marriage.

“A new marriage proposal has come from Mr. Louis Boten.”

When Diane turned twenty, Louis once again proposed marriage to the Lockwoods.

As Walter and Maria broke the news of the renewed proposal at Winderbury, Diane froze, struck by a bizarre sense of déjà vu.

A sudden visit to Winderbury and news of renewed marriage talks with Louis—this was one of the scenes she had seen over and over in her tormenting nightmares.

The reason Diane feared her dreams most was because they kept turning into reality. Like some kind of prophetic vision, the scenes from her dreams always came true—eventually, somehow.

The next day, the earl and his wife left on a trip across the sea to the New World at Louis’s invitation.

Louis had invited Diane to come along, but the earl and his wife, worried she might ramble nonsense again, left her behind at Winderbury.

The servants whispered that the earl had already made up his mind to hand Diane over to Louis.

Louis’s renewed proposal after her twentieth birthday, the couple’s departure for travel, and the chatter of the servants—everything matched the contents of her recurring dreams.

“No way.”

Fleeing from the nightmare, Diane jumped out of bed and yanked the curtains open with a whoosh.

The blinding spring sunlight stabbed at her eyes. She reflexively shut them tight and grimaced. Blinking a few times to adjust to the light, she slowly raised her gaze.

Like the sea before Winderbury, her eyes were an unusually vivid cobalt blue, now reflecting the dazzling scenery.

It was early spring, with pleasantly warm days just before the start of the social season.

From her room, the sea wasn’t visible. Instead, the soft green lawn swayed gently in the mild west wind. Everything else was still.

Diane tried to calm herself. “It’s all in my head. Just a bad dream…”

She reassured herself, struggling to ignore the way reality was beginning to follow her nightmares.

But that wasn’t enough anymore.

She had to confirm it. She pulled the cord at her bedside to summon a maid.

“Bring me the newspaper. Today’s morning edition, yesterday’s evening paper—whatever is in the house, bring it all.”

She wanted to confirm that it was just a dream. In fact, she almost hoped she was insane.

The maid, bewildered by the strange command, bowed and left. Unable to sit still, Diane stepped out onto the attached terrace and anxiously waited. Faint voices from passing maids floated through the air.

“It’s awful. How can anyone live with this kind of fear?”

“Useless police!”

…No.

The familiar sense of déjà vu returned, bringing with it a dreadful feeling.

Just then, the maid came back with a bundle of newspapers. Diane took them in haste, anxiety tightening her chest.

And then, without meaning to, she correctly guessed the headline.

‘Another young woman in Britt…’

Her lips parted blankly as she confirmed the title.

[Another young woman found murdered in Britt.]

Just as her hands began to tremble holding the newspaper—

“Miss? What a surprise to see you out here.”

It was Ellie, the talkative new maid passing by the terrace, who spoke to her. At the time, Ellie was the only one in the house who occasionally spoke to Diane, unaware of all the past.

Suddenly, a voice echoed in Diane’s mind.

“Did you read the newspaper? They say it’s already six known victims. Only young women with blue eyes. Miss, don’t go anywhere near Britt. What if you run into that lunatic killer?”

The next moment, Ellie said aloud:

“Did you read the newspaper? They say it’s already six known victims. Only young women with blue eyes. Miss, don’t go… Miss?”

“…No.”

Terror completely overtook Diane.

She could no longer ignore the nightmares.

Whether what haunted her each night was a delusion or a memory no longer mattered.

Once the earl and his wife returned from their trip, she would be engaged to Louis Boten, and on the day of their wedding, he would murder her.

And no one would help her in the meantime.

Her mind was now dominated by a single thought: she had to run away immediately.

She couldn’t remember exactly how she ended up digging through her mother’s old study, found the letter from her godmother she last saw at her father’s funeral, sent her a telegram, and escaped from Winderbury by train.

Diane had no choice but to run.

“Good heavens, the young lady has vanished!”

Winderbury, which had let down its guard during the years Diane Lockwood remained quiet, was naturally thrown into chaos.