There Is No Paradise Where You Escaped - Chapter 52

As the morning light broke, Vivianne quietly left the room with Sophie. Following the directions Humphrey had given her the previous day, she walked down the corridor in search of Edwin’s bedroom.

Before she knew it, she was standing in front of his door. Telling Sophie to wait outside, she knocked and quietly stepped inside.

The room was so dark that she could hardly see Edwin lying in bed.

Her first night in this unfamiliar place had been restless, her sleep light and of poor quality. Because of this, she had inadvertently learned the time of Edwin’s return in her half-awake state, something she hadn’t particularly wanted to know. It wasn’t until the first light of dawn had tinted the horizon that he finally returned to the manor. She hadn’t expected him to be awake at this hour.

Still, she had come to see him. She didn’t want to repeat what had happened in Rottermond. The last time she hadn’t shown her face, he had come looking for her unannounced. If something like that happened again, she feared she might follow his previous advice—not with an open palm, but with a clenched fist.

As she approached him while he slept, the thick scent of alcohol and cigars hit her and made her frown. 

How much had he drunk?

Edwin was no stranger to alcohol, but he was never one to drink to excess. She’d only seen him truly drunk once. Of course, that might have been a misunderstanding—but his usually sharp eyes had been glazed, his smirk oozing the lewd charm of a notorious playboy. If that wasn’t intoxication, she didn’t know what it was.

And now, with the voices of inebriated noblewomen from that night echoing in her mind, she could only too easily imagine Edwin’s whereabouts from the previous evening.

Vivianne’s face twisted into a frown, her eyes narrowing.

As she stood there, the faint silhouette of his sleeping figure gradually came into view. Edwin’s face was half-buried in the pillow, his bare back exposed as the blanket draped only below his waist. The sheet that should have covered him was nowhere in sight. Puzzled, Vivianne stepped closer instead of retreating, and froze when she realized what her eyes had latched onto.

His buttocks.

Her pupils dilated.

She confirmed it. The man in front of her was completely naked.

Her face grew hot as she scrambled to find the door in the darkness. In her panic, she lost her sense of direction and her steps faltered.

“Vivianne.”

She should have ignored the groggy, drunken voice. But her frazzled mind betrayed her.

“Yes?”

From within the darkness, his half-lidded eyes were clear.

Then, he reached out a hand toward her.

“Come here.”

“W-what?”

“Come. Here.”

His voice, half-commanding, suggested that if she refused, he might just rise from the bed and drag her toward him.

And Edwin was exactly the type of man to do such a thing.

If she hesitated any longer, she knew she would find herself trapped beneath the covers before she could even process what was happening.

Given all she had endured at his hands, Vivianne realized Edwin was capable of anything in this state. She quickly took a few more steps back.

If she were caught now, her reputation and her dignity would be as good as ruined.

“Y-you’re not wearing anything, Your Grace. I’m sorry, I didn’t realize. Please go back to sleep. You’re still drunk. I’ll take my leave now…”

Vivianne hastily mumbled the excuse before scurrying out of the room.

With a thud, the door closed, and silence returned.

Edwin glanced down at himself.

Confirming that he was indeed wearing nothing, he let out a sigh, heavy with exhaustion, before collapsing back onto his pillow.

And just like that, he fell asleep once more.

 ────── ✾ ──────

After witnessing something she wished she hadn’t, Vivianne left the manor late in the morning with Sophie and an attendant recommended by Humphrey.

She had made sure to inform Humphrey of her outing—leaving unannounced could easily result in someone being dismissed again.

Farrington was even livelier in the morning.

Vivianne particularly enjoys observing people, and one of the most distinct aspects of Farrington compared to other cities was its fashion. Even common citizens, if they had wealth, adorned themselves as elegantly as nobles, enjoying a similar level of prestige.

Farrington was, in every sense, a city of freedom, without prejudice.

Vivianne glanced down at her dress. It was one Edwin had bought for her—a simple, neat, and modest outfit she often wore without hesitation.

The thought that she had unintentionally enjoyed Edwin’s gift made her exhale sharply.

Just how wild had his youth been for him to end up that intoxicated? Drinking until dawn, passing out completely undressed without even the sense to change… What an utterly ungentlemanly man.

Rodinia, in contrast to Farrington, was suffocatingly rigid.

It seemed Edwin, tired of such a city, had wasted no time indulging in his youth the moment he arrived in the capital. Contrary to the spotless reputation he had in Rodinia, the truth was that the duke had spent the night drinking, smoking cigars, and entertaining himself among flirtatious women.

A masterful fraudster.

      Flawless? Pure? Nonsense.

He was no different from any other man blinded by luxury and pleasure—a dishonorable gentleman.

Her criticism of Edwin was justified.

She had every right to condemn him on behalf of the citizens of Neway, who were unaware of the true nature lurking behind his polished exterior.

“But, miss, why are we going to the post office?”

Sophie’s question abruptly cut her off from her thoughts.

And from the scattered threads of her thoughts, a new one sprouted—her father’s face.

“Oh, the post office? … Just in case.”

Before her father went missing, the last place he had been seen was Farrington’s post office.

He had sent a letter there, addressed to his business partner, Karl Schmidt, and shortly afterward, he vanished without a trace.

The authorities concluded that Lawrence Aveline had disappeared voluntarily, unable to withstand his debts and the scrutiny of others. That was why her mother had no choice but to step forward herself. She believed that her father’s letter, sent just before he disappeared, was the only clue to finding him.

So, Vivianne had gone to the address on the letter—Karl Schmidt’s office—only to find it had been shut down.

Now, there was no way to even confirm the letter’s contents.

After her mother left for Preston, Vivianne, determined to find traces of her father on her own, had written to the Farrington post office multiple times.

She had described her father’s appearance and asked them to notify her if they ever came across the name Karl Schmidt again.

But the Farrington post office had never once responded.

That was why she had always planned to visit in person if she ever had the chance to come to the capital. Now that the opportunity had arisen, she wasted no time acting on it.

Today, she would demand answers from the person in charge: Why had they ignored her letters? Had they truly never seen her father? Did they know anything about Karl Schmidt’s whereabouts?

Even years later, her father’s disappearance remained sensational enough to linger in public memory.

Up until the moment she stepped out of the carriage in front of the post office, she had believed this would be a relatively straightforward task.

But as soon as she set foot on the ground, she froze.

At the top of the long, white staircase stood a grand, palace-like building.

The sheer size of the magnificent structure—an ancient architectural masterpiece—was overwhelming.

In addition, the people busily going up and down the stairs looked so intimidating that they seemed completely unapproachable. Meanwhile, the street behind her was already becoming congested with carriages arriving one after another, forcing hers to move aside.

“Miss, why are you just standing there?”

“Huh? Oh, right.”

Snapping out of her daze, Vivianne took a trembling step forward.

As she slowly climbed the stairs, she had to tilt her head back to take in the full height of the building.

It felt as if the world had deceived her, as if she had been tricked into believing something that wasn’t true.

Surrounded by dizzying crowds, Vivianne finally stepped inside. The post office was even more chaotic than she had expected.

She had thought it might be slightly better once she was inside, but the crowd was even denser, the pathways even more confusing.

      How am I supposed to find my father in this place?

Vivianne hesitated, unable to figure out where to go.

Her gray eyes wavered as if she might cry at any moment.

A gentleman shoved past her, knocking into her shoulder before shooting her an irritated glare.

Even though she was used to such encounters, the hostility of a complete stranger in an unfamiliar place was enough to scratch at her heart.

Noticing Vivianne’s distress, Sophie rushed to her side, explaining that Farrington was always crowded and encounters like this were common. There were plenty of rude people in the city, and there was no need to take it to heart.

Gently, Sophie tried to divert Vivianne’s attention away from her confusion.

“Miss, where exactly are you trying to go? I’ll guide you.”

Vivianne forced herself to collect her thoughts and scanned the bustling crowd once more.

But her father was nowhere to be seen.

Now, she understood.

She finally saw with her own eyes why the post office had never responded to her letters—why her father’s whereabouts, after being last seen in the capital, had remained unknown.

“… No. Let’s just go back.”

A sigh, heavy with sorrow, escaped her lips as she made her decision.

She turned away, forcing her feet to move.

Amidst the noise of the crowd, she heard the sound of her own footsteps.

Her shoes pressed against the ground of Farrington.

The same ground her father had once walked.

      Father, I’ve come to Farrington. I’m here, in the last place you stayed.

The image of her father’s face blurred in her memory. The clearest ones left were from childhood times when they had laughed together.

      Are you here? If I wander these streets, will I find you again?

…But.

But, Father…

With a deep breath, she stepped onto the post office’s stairs once more, her chest tightening with emotion.

Tears welled up in her eyes.

As they spilled, they dripped onto the tips of her shoes.

      You’re alive, aren’t you?

…Right?

Like branches growing uncontrollably, her thoughts spread—budding with leaves, blooming with flowers, bearing fruit.

But the tree that had taken root was one of despair.

 ────── ✾ ──────

On the morning before lunch, Edwin stepped out of the bathroom, shaking the water off his damp hair.

He vaguely remembered what had happened earlier that morning.

Despite his exhaustion, the moment Vivianne’s scent had brushed past his nose, he had snapped awake, like a hound catching a scent. The memory of reaching out to her was hazy, as if it had been part of a dream.

      What if I had taken her hand?

What if Vivianne had been by my side when I woke up?

Scoffing at his own useless imagination, Edwin poured himself a glass of water.

Just then, Humphrey appeared, greeting him with a polite “Good morning” and offering him some soup.

Considering how much he had drunk the night before, Edwin’s stomach was surprisingly fine.

He instructed that a regular meal be prepared instead, then moved on to the most pressing question.

“What about Vivianne? What is she doing right now?”

      What had she been up to since leaving my bedroom like that?

If she hasn’t eaten yet, perhaps I could summon her to dine with me.

Yes, as soon as Humphrey answers, I’ll call for Vivianne and keep her in my sight.

“The young lady has stepped out for a short outing.”

Thud.

The empty water glass hit the table with a dull sound.

“… An outing?”

With his back to the sunlight, Edwin’s eyes darkened, deep shadows pooling within them.

Within those shadows, a sharp, icy glare formed—like the blade of a knife.

“She said she needed to stop by the post office and then wanted a walk. I assigned her an escort. The maid, Sophie, is with her as well.”

“When will she return?” Edwin made no effort to hide his irritation.

Humphrey stiffened at his lord’s uncharacteristic display of blatant displeasure.

“She didn’t say, but she should be back soon. She left early in the morning, so it’s about time she returned.”

Humphrey tried to soothe him, but the cold blue eyes, now turbulent like a midwinter storm, showed no signs of calming.

“From now on, do not let that woman leave alone.”

“She was accompanied by Sophie, an attendant, and the coachman—”

“My point is—” 

Today’s Edwin was unfamiliar even to Humphrey. For the first time, he was revealing emotion—something he had always meticulously concealed. But it didn’t seem to be a good sign.

“Do not let her leave the manor without me.”

His voice had steadied, but his words carried the weight of an undeniable command.

Humphrey, understanding completely, smiled faintly and bowed his head.

“Yes, my lord. I will keep that in mind.”

“And summon the jewelers of the capital. Only those who deal in the rarest and most valuable treasures.”

Humphrey’s eyes flickered with brief surprise, but he quickly regained his composure and answered as before.

“Yes. Understood.”

A great upheaval was about to descend upon the House of Baytness.

An unprecedented storm was preparing to sweep in at the most unexpected moment.