There Is No Paradise Where You Escaped - Chapter 54

Vivianne was finally free after taking all the measurements and stripping the dressing room bare.

She left the shop when all the luxurious goods and dresses had been ordered to be delivered; there were so many that they wouldn’t even fit in a carriage. It was then that she understood why the shop had been so quiet and the rumor that had spread throughout Farrington.

“The rumor has already spread throughout the capital. They say the Duke and you, Miss Aveline, are lovers and will soon be married. Is it true?”

Mrs. Green’s question was so absurd that it left Vivianne laughing in disbelief.

How could a relationship tied to revenge, debt, and death lead to romance and marriage? 

Lovers did not threaten to kill each other, touch each other carelessly, fire guns, or strangle one another. No one inflicted such wounds on a lover they intended to wed. She wanted to know what madness had bridged these two irreconcilable realities.

Vivianne denied the claim, protesting that they were neither lovers nor betrothed. She even feigned humble offense at the disrespectful gossip about the Duke who had sheltered her.

“But he rented this entire shop for you—spent a fortune! Last time, he bought multiple gowns, and now you’re wearing one of them!”

Mrs. Green chirped like a songbird. Vivianne just stared blankly at the gifted dress.

      Why? Why me?

He was the type to show mercy only when someone desperately begged at his feet. Yet now, for no reason at all, he was being kind to her. And whenever that happened, something bad was sure to follow. This, too, would be poisoned. She could not believe it. It was a trap—a cruel scheme.

Standing on the stage Edwin had set up, she forced herself to balance on the scale and stand upright.

When she approached the carriage, Edwin extended his hand. As a gentleman, he offered it; as a lady, she was expected to take it. But her heart hesitated.

He gave his hand a slight shake, urging her. Reluctantly, she took it.

At that moment, her heart lurched, squeezing hot blood through her veins. Feeling uneasy, she cleared her throat and sat down gracefully.

Then, he sat beside her.

His shoulder brushed against hers.

There was no room to put distance between them inside the cramped carriage.

A tingling sensation crept down her throat and lower back.

Her mouth went dry at the worst moments, forcing her to keep adjusting her posture in discomfort.

Then, Edwin’s indifferent gaze landed on her. Their eyes locked.

Her heart lurched again.

It was a deeply unpleasant feeling.

────── ✾ ──────

The autumn afternoon sunlight was warm enough to lull one into drowsiness. Seated deep in the wing chair, Vivianne nodded off as she read her book.

Rodinia would be wrapped in deep silence once the windows were closed, but in Farrington, even with the windows shut, the sounds of voices, footsteps, and the clatter of carriages filtered in.

Rather than feeling disturbed, Vivianne found comfort in the noise. It pulled her away from the isolation of being an outsider, making her feel as if she belonged, as if she stood at the very center of the world.

Then, her languid afternoon was interrupted by Humphrey. He had come to escort her to where Edwin was waiting. The moment she heard his name, her sleepiness vanished, replaced by that familiar, uneasy churn in her stomach.

Suddenly, memories from a few days ago surfaced.

After having her measurements taken at Mrs. Green’s shop, she and Edwin shared their first private meal together. Since she couldn’t handle alcohol, she had champagne barely stronger than juice and dined on fine-quality meat.

For that moment, time had existed solely for Edwin.

Even though they weren’t alone, it felt as if they were the only two people left in this vast world.

It was then that she realized dining out wasn’t about the food; it was about the person sitting across from you. And when that thought crossed her mind, doubt crept in.

What were Edwin’s true intentions?

That was when it started.

Whenever she saw him, whenever their meeting approached, whenever she even thought about him, her ribs would tingle, her shoulders would stiffen, and her mouth would go dry.

When she reached the drawing room, Humphrey opened the door for her. Pressing a hand against her chest, Vivianne stepped inside.

The moment she encountered the strangers filling the room, her eyes widened, instinctively searching for Edwin.

Seated on the sofa, he gestured for her to come closer.

She hesitated only for a moment before walking toward him, drawn not to his presence but away from the quiet murmuring of the strangers before her.

To Vivianne, Edwin was terrifying. But in front of unfamiliar people, he was the safest presence of all.

“What’s going on? Who are all these people…?”

“Sit down. Let’s begin.”

Still bewildered, Vivianne sat, blinking rapidly as her mind struggled to catch up.

Every person in the room was holding something precious. Some even had luxurious boxes stacked beside them.

Then, one by one, they left—except for a single man, who stepped forward and opened a velvet box before them.

The moment she laid eyes on the gleaming emerald necklace and earrings inside, she finally understood.

The jeweler launched into an elaborate speech about the necklace, detailing its long history, immense value, and the envy it would stir. He even made bold predictions about how priceless it would become in the distant future.

When he finally finished, he pushed the box closer to them.

“You may try it on, my lady.”

The jeweler smiled warmly, his friendliness all part of the sale. But Vivianne, pale-faced, quickly glanced at Edwin.

“Look at it.”

He thought she was asking for permission, and so he complied.

The jeweler started to take the necklace out of the box, but Vivianne quickly stopped him.

“W-wait a moment. Your Grace, I need to speak with you…”

“Speak? About what?”

“Shouldn’t I at least know… what exactly is happening right now?”

She whispered cautiously, wary of the watching eyes.

Vivianne forced a strained smile, but the slight trembling at the corner of her lips betrayed her true feelings.

“Can’t you tell just by looking?”

“No. I can’t.”

“Pick the one you find most beautiful. You may choose a few that are just moderately pretty if you’d like. If it’s too hard to decide, you could buy them all.”

Vivianne sighed as the realization sank in—the crowd that had filled the drawing room moments ago had been there solely for her.

Even in Preston, she had never indulged in such extravagance.

Her father had been wealthy enough to build a lavish manor across the sea in Neway, yet he had never squandered large sums on trivial luxuries.

This man, however, seemed to have no restraint over his overflowing wealth. As if it weren’t enough that he had purchased Rodinia’s grand manor at a staggering price, he had also bought her a new dress simply because he found Theo’s gown too eye-catching. And that wasn’t all—he had provided her with gowns, shoes, and handbags for the palace banquet.

Now, he was spending even more to adorn her bare neck, ears, and hands.

What kind of trap was this? What kind of poison-laced cake had been placed before her?

The more Vivianne thought about it, the heavier her heart became.

She couldn’t keep letting herself be dragged along like this.

Determined to regain control, she asked the jeweler to give them some privacy. Only when Edwin gave his permission did the jeweler finally leave the drawing room.

“Your Grace, I truly have no idea what is going on right now. Why should I choose jewels?”

Vivianne’s voice, once cautious, regained its full volume as she widened her eyes and questioned him.

“Must I justify what I buy for you to wear?”

“… That’s exactly my point. Why are you making me choose something to wear? Are you seriously planning to buy all of these for me—again?”

“And why not?”

His tone was disturbingly casual, without the slightest trace of concern. It was so mundanely indifferent that Vivianne felt even more bewildered.

“I just need to ask… Are you planning to leave all of this as a debt for me to repay? I’m sorry, but I’ll never pay it back. I won’t repay you for the dresses you sent before, and I won’t pay a single penny for what was purchased a few days ago. So, no matter how much you ask me to choose, I will never pay for any of it. No matter what happens.”

Vivianne drew a firm line, but instead of getting upset, Edwin simply laughed.

Her face burned red with frustration, and the weight of his effortless amusement made her shoulders sag.

“Do you even have the means to pay?”

His words struck directly at her weak spot. Vivianne’s ears flushed as she stuttered for a response.

“Y-you know I can’t. Isn’t that why you’re tormenting me?”

“What fool spends a fortune just to torment someone?”

Vivianne’s lips parted slightly, as if to argue, but then quickly pressed shut. The weight of her mother’s circumstances lingered on her tongue, yet she had too many reasons to leave them unsaid.

“… Or do you think you can buy my favor with all these extravagant gifts, hoping I’ll willingly throw myself at you?”

Her voice lowered as she avoided eye contact.

Under normal circumstances, she would have been furious at her own words. But this time, the pain and bitterness outweighed any anger.

“If that’s what you thought, then you’re mistaken. If I were the kind of woman who could be bought with such things, I would have already become Mayr’s mistress. Our family would have survived without trouble, and by now, I would have given birth to a string of illegitimate children who might one day inherit Mayr’s legacy—spending my youth in chains, living under the same roof as my parents.”

At that moment, the grandfather clock struck, announcing the hour.

In the rhythmic silence between their shared breaths, Vivianne imagined the other life she could have lived.

She would have had her children taken from her, left the palace with nothing but her own body, but what came after losing everything was peace.

A tranquil life where no one tormented her.

A life spent with her beloved parents, passing each day without worry, filling it with things both trivial and fleeting. Perhaps that happiness would have been better than what she had now.

Knowing that made the bitterness of regret tighten around her throat.

      Yes.

I should have just become Mayr’s mistress.

Youth is a flower that withers for everyone, but for her, it was something that faded faster and more painfully.

Only one casualty: Vivianne Aveline. One sacrifice would have sufficed.

“Vivianne.”

She couldn’t answer the low call of her name.

For some reason, looking into those ice-blue eyes felt as though it would make her cry.

The emotions she was barely holding back would eventually claw their way up her throat. So Vivianne held on strong.

She wanted him to see—wanted him to understand—that she was as miserable and hurt as he wanted her to be.

“Vivianne. Look at me.”

He grabbed her stubborn chin and applied just enough force. Reluctantly, Vivianne lifted her head, but her eyes remained fixed on a completely different place.

“Vivianne.”

Once more, he called her name.

Her trembling pupils finally turned to Edwin.

His gaze was so kind, so gentle—it made her doubt his sincerity. Clear, untainted eyes, like those of a boy untouched by the cruelty of the world, stirred something deep inside her.

      Why?

Why would you do this to me?

I should have been the target of hatred—the one who slaughtered his family and then saved him from death just to feel superior. Affection was a luxury I couldn’t afford.

He should have scorned me, mocked me, tormented me, and enjoyed my humiliation.

I don’t know about others, but at the very least, he should have hated me.

“I ordered a cello for you.”

Edwin’s low, soft voice broke through her turmoil. His usually cold gaze, just this once, carried warmth.

“I heard you sold yours.”

Vivianne was filled with a sharp, eerie question.

      Why? 

Why would you do this to me?

“So I bought one for you.”

The tears she had fought so hard to suppress finally broke free beneath his blue eyes.

One by one, they fell, landing on the warm hand cupping her cheek.

“It’s yours.”

Was it intentional or mere coincidence that he had comforted her with the thing she loved most—when she was sad, when she was in pain, when she was happy?

Perhaps it didn’t matter.

What mattered was that the warmth against her cheek no longer felt uncomfortable.