There Is No Paradise Where You Escaped - Chapter 47

There was no single ant in the hallway leading to Vivianne’s room, despite the candlelight illuminating the path. The manor was steeped in silence, swallowed by the looming darkness.

It was the hour when everyone had retired to bed, and Edwin assumed that by now, Vivianne, too, would have turned off her lamp and fallen into a deep sleep. That was why he didn’t knock.

Only when he saw the flickering shadows of the candle through the slightly open door did he realize that Vivianne’s night had yet to begin. However, the one who should have startled awake, wide-eyed at the intrusion, was nowhere to be seen. Her bedsheets were in disarray, suggesting that she had gone to bed but gotten up again for some reason.

Edwin sat on the bed where Vivianne would be staying for a few more days and stared at the closed door. He was immensely curious about the expression Vivianne would make when she walked in and saw an unexpected guest occupying her room. However, it was not Vivianne who opened the door—it was Sophie.

Startled by the unfamiliar silhouette, Sophie stifled a gasp, pressing a finger to her lips. But once she recognized the master of Rodinia Castle, she couldn’t hide her shock.

“Y-Your Grace! What are you doing here…? If anyone sees you at this hour… this is improper…” Sophie pleaded in a hushed voice, making sure no one outside could hear.

But Edwin, showing no intention of moving, simply gave a small nod and motioned for her to leave.

“Your Grace… Miss Vivianne will be very angry. More than that, what if someone sees—”

Unlike Sophie, who was anxiously stomping her feet, Edwin blinked slowly, offering no reply. He merely gazed at her in silence.

Lacking the courage to defy her master, Sophie gave up persuading him and turned away, her voice quivering with worry. Even as she left the room, she hesitated several times, hoping Edwin might change his mind. But Edwin remained where he was as if it were his own room.

Where had Miss Aveline gone, leaving Sophie behind? Edwin traced Vivianne’s whereabouts in his mind. The fact that Sophie wasn’t surprised by Vivianne’s absence suggested that her disappearance had been planned in advance.

There were no suitable places for swimming in Rottermond, and even if there were, Vivianne wasn’t the type to strip down in an unfamiliar place. So she likely hadn’t left the manor.

Then where was she?

Edwin leaned back, propping himself up with both hands behind him. The bed was soft, and the sheets were smooth.

As he imagined Vivianne curled up in this bed, buried beneath the blankets, breathing softly in sleep, his eyes closed on their own. Another desire loomed over him—the desire to watch her sleep. To see what kind of harmless face she made as she dreamed. To know her sleeping habits, how sensitive she was to heat and cold, and what kind of breaths she took. He wanted to observe everything.

The fantasy of her lying here, alone, felt so vivid he could almost touch it. He felt the urge to reach out and touch—

Click.

The sharp sound jolted Edwin back to reality.

When he opened his eyes, he saw Vivianne standing there, pale as a sheet. She hastily shut the door and locked it behind her. Her gray eyes, already informed by Sophie, burned with indignation.

“What exactly do you think you’re doing here?” She demanded, her voice trembling with restrained anger as she approached.

The nightgown she wore was all too familiar—it was the same one that had been soaked and torn during a previous incident. The tear had been neatly mended, but that didn’t change the fact that it was still an old, worn garment.

Only now did he realize that the dresses he had sent her included no nightgowns.

Dressing a woman required more consideration than one might think—a detail Edwin had overlooked. Resolving not to make the same mistake again, he made a mental note to ensure she had everything she needed, including nightwear.

“Please leave. How could you barge into my room so late at night? What would people think if they saw you?”

“They’d think, ‘Baytness is in Aveline’s room.’”

“Your Grace!”

Vivianne’s voice dropped to a threateningly low pitch, and her eyes turned fierce, like those of a ferocious young predator.

“If you have something to say, do it tomorrow. It’s late. Please, just go back.”

Vivianne pointed to the door—the same door she had shut and locked herself—unaware that, in doing so, she had unwittingly trapped the intruder inside. In reality, it was Vivianne who was now in a dangerous position.

“Then you should have come to see me instead.”

“Why would I ever—!”

Vivianne barely held back her rising voice and took a deep breath to steady herself.

She quickly suppressed her anger, knowing that dealing with Edwin emotionally would only put her at a disadvantage.

“Then there’s no reason for me to come see you either.”

“I understand what you’re trying to say. But things can’t be the same here as they were in Rodinia. This is Rottermond. If anyone should be impatient, it’s me, Your Grace. You know there’s nothing more important to me than the receipt. But if I act as I did in Rodinia, the Baroness won’t take kindly to it—no matter the reason, no matter the cause.”

She conveyed her point clearly, without letting emotions get in the way. Seeing Edwin adjust his posture, Vivianne thought, for the first time, that her sincerity had finally gotten through to him. He looked as if he were preparing to leave.

Had she known his adjusted stance was merely a preparation to pull her closer, she would have kept her distance. But it was too late. Before she knew it, her body—overpowered by his strength—was dragged helplessly toward him.

Vivianne’s knee pressed into his thigh, but he showed no sign of discomfort. Instead, he trapped the back of her knee and pulled her other leg up onto the bed.

By the time she regained her senses, he was deeply nestled in her arms. With her knee resting on his thigh, her waist was held by both of his arms, and his face was pressed against her chest. His heat seeped through her thin nightgown, clinging to her skin.

Panicked, Vivianne struggled to push him away, but his arms, tightly wrapped around her waist, refused to release her. The more she moved, the more she feared losing her balance and falling onto the bed.

“Where have you been?”

Unlike Vivianne, who was gasping for breath in her efforts to break free, Edwin’s question was calm, almost indifferent.

Closing his eyes, he settled deeper into Vivianne’s embrace, focusing solely on the irregular, rapid beat of her heart. Her heartbeat—frail yet strong, small yet resonant—was proof of her existence.

Edwin, consumed by the desire to focus on the sound and rhythm of her heartbeat just a little longer, remained unresponsive despite her desperate resistance.

“Your Grace. Please don’t do this. You mustn’t…”

“Where have you been this late at night?”

“…T-To Charlotte. She hasn’t been eating properly lately, so we shared a sandwich. That’s all,” Vivianne rushed to explain as if making excuses.

Though Edwin seemed harmless and innocent as he clung to her, his persistence was more like that of a starving predator unwilling to release its prey. His warmth and scent distorted her sense of reality. Every time he moved his head slightly, the softness of his hair brushed against her chin, making her heart lurch and her mind blur.

Vivianne was afraid.

Afraid that this man would take everything from her.

Like a beast curled up in her embrace, he could, if he so wished, lay her down on this bed and claim what he desired.

“So let me go now. Return to your room. If anyone finds out, the rumors will be confirmed. And the Baroness is already worried sick. What if she thinks you’ve… taken a liking to someone as insignificant as me—”

“My mother knows I ran away from Preston.”

Her rejection and resistance came to a halt.

“I never once told her.”

The energy drained from her body, sinking deep into her consciousness.

Vivianne couldn’t begin to grasp the full weight of the Baroness’s emotions—the knowledge that the Aveline family had driven someone to ruin, that they had taken everything from the adopted son she loved as her own.

“Of course, she’d be anxious. Not about you being with me, but about me being with you.”

Realizing that the Baroness’s hostility, anxiety, and concern stemmed from this truth, something cracked inside Vivianne. The fact that her mere existence could be a dagger to someone else was agonizing.

It was a cruel and painful truth.

The man who had always loomed over her with his imposing height and shadow now felt small in her arms. As she stopped fighting and settled into silence, she looked down at Edwin—he was just as she had expected.

Sayer, who had survived a searing pain, clung tightly to her as if he had never grown since that day, as if he had never been able to shake off the fear and sorrow of that fatal day.

Everything about him ached.

That day, Sayer’s face became even clearer in her mind, and the words she had longed to say to him piled up in her heart.

Unconsciously, her hand reached out, only to stop at the ends of Edwin’s hair.

Vivianne knew that she shouldn’t touch him. Shouldn’t hold him. Her hand, hovering in the air, wavered before gently settling on his broad shoulder.

Wax dripped from the candle onto the holder. The flame flickered precariously but quickly regained its steady burn.

Vivianne, now calm, radiated a faint warmth. Her heartbeat grew clearer, her breathing even. Her body seemed so soft that it could be crushed with just a little force. Edwin thought he might fall asleep using her embrace as a pillow. Sleepiness washed over him, and an irresistible urge to rest settled in.

When Edwin slowly raised his head and looked into her melancholy eyes, he sensed danger for the first time.

The urge to undo her neatly braided hair. To leave his mark upon her unblemished skin. To confirm whether her lips truly tasted like unripe summer fruit, just as he had imagined.

The determination to bury his nose into every inch of her body and track down the source of that sweet scent clashed violently within him.

“I desire you, but I never coveted you.”

Vivianne’s gaze trailed silently to his lips as they moved.

“Now I do.”

Her eyes snapped back up, sharp and unyielding. She didn’t look particularly shocked. As if she had expected this, she firmly drew a line.

“No. Absolutely not. I will never… do that with you, Your Grace.”

“That? What exactly is ‘that’?”

Reality came rushing back, and Vivianne’s struggles grew more forceful. Her resistance gradually created a space between them. Just as she began to feel hopeful, thinking she might finally reach the floor…

Vivianne’s world turned upside down in the blink of an eye.

In the next moment, Edwin was no longer in front of her.

He was above her. And her hands, which had been shoving at his shoulders, were now pinned against the bed.

Edwin had stepped—no, invaded—a place no one was ever meant to enter.

The very thing she had feared had finally happened. She wanted to scream, but she didn’t have the strength to withstand the storm that would follow. Instead, she clenched her lips shut and fought back with all her might.

But there was no way she could overpower the weight of the man pressing down on her.

“Say it. What exactly is ‘that’ you’re thinking of?”

“This… Trapping me. Using me to satisfy your desires—this is what I mean.”

Her furious glare brimmed with unshed tears, which soon spilled over, streaming down her temples.

Edwin, staring down at her coldly, loosened his grip on one of her wrists.

The moment Vivianne was free, her hand shot up and struck his cheek.

It was the harshest retaliation she could muster.

Her palm throbbed, stinging with pain.

Yet Edwin remained unbothered, unfazed, as if she had never struck him at all. For a fleeting moment, Vivianne doubted whether she had actually hit him.

When his hand reached for her again, she squeezed her eyes shut.

But instead of another act of control, his touch was something else entirely—warm, gentle fingers wiping away the tears at the corner of her eyes.

“You think I enjoy feeling this way?”

His voice cracked like a withered leaf. The tenderness of his touch was just as heartbreaking as the sting in her palm.

“Wanting to feel your warmth, your scent… craving to bite, suck, and taste you—does that sound pleasant to you?”

Then Edwin released her other wrist. Just as gently, his fingers brushed against the dampness beneath her other eye.

“That’s why I’m holding back. That’s why I’m not taking you.”

Suddenly, the shadow pinning her down retreated. Edwin pulled her upright as her tears slid down her cheeks.

“I have no desire to take a woman who will one day die by my hands. But who knows? If the day ever comes when I decide I must have you—then I will take you.”

His words were eerily indifferent, yet laced with something far more dangerous.

Leaning in, Edwin cupped her tear-streaked face with both hands. Her hot tears trickled down, seeping between his fingers.

“So prove it to me. Prove that you’re a worthless woman. That you’re not worth having.”

Vivianne was left with an impossible command. But for whom was it truly meant?

“Then we will be completely free.”

Completely free… Those words were so sweet to her ears.