There Is No Paradise Where You Escaped - Chapter 58

After parting ways with the ladies, Vivianne returned straight to the balcony, but neither Edwin nor Benjamin was there. She searched the entire ballroom, desperately looking for Benjamin’s shadow. However, she couldn’t find even a single strand of his hair anywhere.

When she finally returned to her original spot, Edwin was there with Sarah Chadwick. The moment she met his gaze, memories of Benjamin’s story surged, making her heart sink.

Vivianne had no desire to step between them, so she turned away. When Edwin inevitably followed and pressed her for answers, she simply said she would return first. It was the same as saying she wanted to be alone. But Edwin left the ballroom with her, and just like that, the evening’s ball came to an end.

On the carriage ride back to Edwin’s manor, the two sat in stifling silence within the cramped space, both staring out the window and letting the quiet settle between them.

Vivianne wanted to ask. She wanted to know.

Had Edwin ever met her father?

Was he involved in his disappearance?

Or maybe it wasn’t a disappearance…

Her thoughts stopped there. Vivianne closed her eyes, letting out a shaky breath.

When the carriage arrived at the manor, the door opened, and as she stepped out, she instinctively took the hand Edwin offered. She obeyed too easily. She formed habits too easily.

She was an easy target for a man who might have done something to her beloved father. The realization only deepened her despair. The moment her feet touched the ground, she shook off his hand and walked ahead, maintaining some distance.

They climbed the stairs to the second floor, keeping a small gap between them. Just as they were about to part ways to their respective rooms, Vivianne stopped and looked at his back.

“Your Grace.”

She wanted to ask. She wanted to know.

Why hold onto hope?

This was a man capable of anything, even destroying another if given the chance. Yet she desperately hoped he wasn’t someone who had enjoyed harming her father, only to spare his only daughter and toy with her instead.

“… Did you…”

She wished that the poison wasn’t hidden in the sweet cake of his gestures—the gifts of clothes, jewels, shoes… the cello. That her fleeting days with him weren’t laced with deceit.

Vivianne held on to a futile hope, an unstable expectation.

“… Did you kill my father?”

Vivianne gripped the hem of her dress tightly as she forced out the words.

Her stomach churned so violently that she nearly gagged.

The question, spoken with all the strength she had left, was so cruel that it tasted bitter even to her.

Edwin slowly blinked as he turned to face her.

So slow, it felt like time had stopped.

A single second stretched into ten minutes.

Her back stiffened under the weight of the tension.

“What if I did?”

His indifferent answer slashed through her like a raging autumn storm.

“Answer me. If I killed Lawrence, what would you do?”

Even as he spoke the most painful words, his voice remained eerily dry, brittle.

As if this was nothing out of the ordinary for him. As if it were a part of his everyday life.

As if he didn’t care.

Vivianne’s breathing gradually became faster.

She had to say something.

But no words came out.

If Edwin had killed my father—

What was I supposed to do?

She repeated his question over and over in her mind.

But no answer would come.

Trapped at a dead end, Vivianne felt hot tears slide down her cheeks.

“… It’s not true, is it?”

With the most wretched and desperate belief in the world, she replaced an answer with that question.

Waiting for him to say “no” was the only thing Vivianne could do.

But Edwin scoffed, as if the mere thought was laughable, and turned away without hesitation.

Vivianne’s eyes widened. Her legs, drained of strength, barely moved as she dragged herself after him and caught his sleeve.

“It’s not true, is it? My father… You didn’t kill him. You’ve never even met him. Say it’s not true. Tell me my father is still alive, that it wasn’t you. Your Grace, please… tell me it’s not true.”

Her desperate cries, tangled with sobs, trembled through the air.

But Edwin’s gaze, looking down at her, did not waver. His eyes only grew colder, his indifference cutting even deeper, forcing Vivianne to face reality.

“My father was hanged to death. Why do you think yours would be any different?”

Vivianne’s lips parted as she stopped breathing. Her hands, which had been clutching Edwin’s sleeve, slipped away, her tears falling with them.

“My mother. My siblings. One by one, they were hanged on the scaffold. Tell me, Vivianne—who in their right mind would have let your father walk away unscathed? Hm? Answer me.”

Vivianne stumbled back as if collapsing in on herself… but only for a moment.

Edwin yanked her by the skirt, dragging her frail body toward him with ease.

Amidst her sobs, irregular gasps escaped between her tear-soaked lips.

There was nothing she could do. Before Edwin’s malice, she was nothing more than prey.

“My family never lets a target escape. That’s why Mayr hunted Sayer Raven with such fervor—because he was a loose end. A lingering threat. And yet, someone let him live. Pushed him toward vengeance. And now you expect me to tell you otherwise? To say your father is alive? To soothe you with lies?”

Shattered words, sharp as glass, pierced through her chest and tore her apart from within.

“You seek absolution, and yet you dare ask me that, Vivianne?”

His bitter laughter scraped against her soul, wringing out every last drop of hope she had left.

“Disgusting.”

It felt as if her throat had been slashed with a merciless blade. The very sensation of life dulled, and the world before her eyes turned unreal, hollow. As if she were already dead.

“It’s your contradictions that sicken me the most.”

The moment Edwin released her skirt, Vivianne’s legs wobbled.

His cold gaze lingered for just a second longer before he turned away.

Left alone, Vivianne crumpled to the floor, tears streaming freely.

And then, like a lifeless doll, she collapsed entirely.

Even as she lay sprawled on the floor, her tears did not stop, soaking into the carpet beneath her.

────── ✾ ──────

On the night Edwin and Vivianne returned from the Count of Thurston’s ball, a minor dispute had erupted. As a result, Humphrey forbade anyone from going upstairs.

Later, when things had settled, he went up to the second floor—only to find Vivianne collapsed in the middle of the hallway.

“Call a doctor.”

That was Edwin’s cold reply the moment Humphrey reported the situation after moving her to her room. Though puzzled by his master’s reaction, Humphrey focused on Vivianne’s well-being and summoned the doctor immediately.

Fortunately, there were no external or internal injuries; it was purely a psychological issue. The doctor reassured them that she would recover with enough rest.

However, as the days passed, Vivianne’s mental state worsened.

Everyone in the manor felt like they were walking on thin ice because of her condition. The rumors circulating in the capital—that Edwin was deliberately neglecting Vivianne—began to seem more plausible.

After the Count of Thurston’s ball, Edwin and Vivianne became the subject of gossip once more. The rumors claimed they were neither lovers nor betrothed. Instead, whispers swirled that Edwin and Sarah Chadwick were secretly discussing marriage.

Furthermore, there were groundless rumors that Vivianne Aveline was having a secret affair with Benjamin Quinlan.

“Tomorrow evening, I’ll be attending an orchestra performance. Make the necessary preparations.

I’m taking Vivianne with me.”

The two had argued the night they returned from the ball, and Edwin, for all his indifference, had seemingly abandoned any interest in her. That made the rumors more believable.

Yet, despite showing no concern, Edwin suddenly announced that he would be attending the orchestra’s concert—an event he wouldn’t have given a second glance.

Since he had once prepared a cello for Vivianne, there was no doubt this outing was meant for her as well.

Believing there was no real issue between them, Humphrey waited in the lobby.

Soon, he spotted Vivianne trudging toward him, led by Sophie’s gentle but firm grip.

Her ashen-gray eyes remained lifeless, and her expression was as vacant as ever.

And behind her, Edwin appeared—impeccably dressed, composed, exuding the perfection of a nobleman.

Without acknowledging their past argument, he stepped in front of Vivianne and extended his hand.

When Vivianne merely stared at it, unresponsive, Sophie hesitated before grabbing Vivianne’s hand and placing it in Edwin’s.

And just like that, Edwin took her hand and led her outside.

This time, it was Edwin, not Sophie, pulling her along.

────── ✾ ──────

A light autumn rain drizzled down.

As Vivianne stepped out of the carriage, she failed to avoid a puddle, sending water splashing in all directions.

Raindrops soaked her pristine shoes, but she paid no mind. She simply walked, following where she was led.

Where they were headed, what they were doing—it was all beyond her concern.

Only when she came to her senses did she realize they were at a theater. And that she was seated in a box on the second floor.

The setting was familiar.

Back when she lived in Preston, she had often attended plays, operas, and orchestra performances with her family.

The memory of her father surfaced, and for a brief moment, her mind sharpened—only to blur again.

At that moment, the performance began.

The orchestra played powerfully.

It was Seidel’s Cello Concerto.

The deep, sorrowful cries of the cello blended beautifully with the orchestra. The melancholic, minor-keyed music slowly reeled in Vivianne’s drifting consciousness, one note at a time.

The more she tried to push them away, the clearer the faces of her father and mother became.

And the guilt of sitting beside a man who might have killed her father—of betraying her father—grew unbearable.

Vivianne realized she was in no state to listen to the performance.

Just then, Sarah Chadwick and Lady Danvers arrived and took their seats behind her.

Vivianne hadn’t cared to question why Edwin had brought her here, but now, unwillingly, she understood.

Edwin had come to meet Sarah Chadwick.

Sensing their presence behind him, Edwin turned slightly, and the three exchanged brief greetings.

Once again, Lady Danvers’s sharp gaze bore into Vivianne, stinging like a blade.

She clearly disapproved of Vivianne occupying the seat beside Edwin.

As the cello’s mournful wail reached its climax, the ache in Vivianne’s chest became unbearable. Unable to endure it any longer, she rose from her seat and left the box.

Edwin watched her vacant seat before gesturing to Roarke behind him to follow her.

Without objection, Roarke immediately went after Vivianne.

Not long after, Sarah Chadwick moved forward and took the seat where Vivianne had been.

 ────── ✾ ──────

Vivianne stepped out of the theater as if fleeing and stood under the awning, blankly watching the falling rain.

The cold air, damp against her skin, slightly diluted the sadness the cello had left behind. She wiggled her wet toes absentmindedly, then suddenly felt a reckless impulse.

Vivianne wanted to let herself be completely soaked, to fall ill with a fever. A fever so unbearable, so agonizing, that it would eventually kill her.

This pain would never stop. It would tear her apart—the torment, the sorrow, the suffering—until the very moment of death. She wished she could just die.

She wanted to become the earth, to become the wind, to be reborn as a hawk soaring through the skies. She didn’t need to feel joy or love, as long as there was no more sorrow, no more pain.

Fanned by these thoughts, Vivianne stepped purposefully out from under the awning.

“You mustn’t, my lady.”

At the deep voice behind her, Vivianne halted. Even in a moment like this, Edwin’s surveillance persisted.

It had been this way ever since that day. He sent Sophie, Humphrey, and others to check on her. No—he had them watch her.

“Let’s go back inside. The air is cold.”

Vivianne let out a quiet sigh. She had no choice. Accepting her helplessness, she lowered her head and turned back. She didn’t want to return to where Sarah Chadwick and Lady Danvers were, but with Roarke watching her, she had no other option.

Sarah Chadwick now sat beside Edwin. And behind them, Lady Danvers.

The moment Lady Danvers saw Vivianne, she smiled in satisfaction.

Reluctantly, Vivianne sat down in the seat Sarah Chadwick had occupied just moments ago.

“What a perfect pair, don’t you think?”

The orchestra’s cellos, now in the third movement, had moved beyond sorrow and into fury—raging, wailing, crying out in injustice.

“Even the Queen would have been pleased to see this sight.”

Lady Danvers watched the pair before her with great satisfaction.

Sarah Chadwick leaned in to whisper something to Edwin, and Edwin responded. Then, Sarah Chadwick giggled.

They truly were the perfect pair.