There Is No Paradise Where You Escaped - Chapter 62

Vivianne, who had not attended the luncheon, finished her meal in her room. After the servants came to collect the empty dishes, she enjoyed a comfortable sunbath under the autumn afternoon light. Sophie, ever full of complaints, grumbled constantly.

“No matter how I think about it, this was intentional.”

Vivianne, who had been reclining in a wing chair and reading a book in the sunlight, looked up. 

“To place the Duke’s and Miss Vivianne’s bedrooms so far apart…”

While the person involved actually felt relieved by the distance, Sophie, a third party, complained as if she herself had been wronged.

“Everyone’s just jealous of the Duke and Miss Vivianne. They must think doing this will change the Duke’s heart or something. But let’s be real—Miss Chadwick and the Duke don’t suit each other at all. If the Duke ever betrayed you and married Miss Chadwick, I wouldn’t acknowledge her as my mistress!”

“Sophie.”

With a crisp snap, Vivianne closed her book. Her voice carried authority as if reprimanding Sophie’s careless attitude.

She had thought the truth revealed at the ball would silence the baseless rumors spreading so widely. But it takes two to clap—since Edwin showed no intention of addressing the gossip, the malicious chatter only grew worse.

She would have preferred to be strangled, shot, or dragged through the mud rather than labeled the lover—or worse, mistress of a man honing a blade of vengeance.

Vivianne placed a hand on her chest, where Edwin had once bitten her. The bruise lingered, and with its memory came the pain of that day, along with the searing heat of his lips pressing into her skin like a brand.

They say even dishonorable men desire women they don’t love. Vivianne had no interest in dissecting his every action. It was something she could simply forget.

The events in the carriage that day were a secret known only to the two of them. If buried deep in their memories, it could remain forgotten, just like the bruises on her chest and neck. In time, even the feelings of that day would fade.

“Sophie. By the way… is it true that Viscount Quinlan hasn’t come to the palace?”

As Vivianne was about to reopen her book, Benjamin’s face crossed her mind.

She had quarreled with Edwin and lost track of Benjamin, who had seemed to hold a clue about her father at the ball. Later, when she finally wrote to him, his reply—“It was just a joke”—left her furious. Vivianne decided that if she ever met him at the palace, she would confront him directly and demand answers:

Do you have any idea how much I suffered because of your cruel joke? Was it truly just a joke? Please, just be honest with me.

“… Yes. It seems so,” Sophie replied.

Vivianne had tried to tie up loose ends, but Viscount Quinlan had already irresponsibly closed the matter.

She sighed, set the book down on the table, and gazed quietly out the window.

It wasn’t full autumn yet. The once-lush green leaves were beginning to dry and crumble. Under the harsh sunlight of fall, the leaves—seeming to burn themselves alive—would meet winter and end their lives.

The thought that she was not so different from those leaves filled her with a deep, inexplicable sadness.

While she sat in contemplative silence, a knock sounded at the door.

An unexpected visitor had come to see Vivianne—none other than Alice Thurston, the Countess of Thurston.

“It’s only been a few days, but it feels like ages, doesn’t it, Miss Aveline?”

The three-way conversation that had begun on the ballroom balcony had never fully blossomed, thanks to an unexpected intruder. Still, Vivianne held no intention of blaming her.

“… Lady Thurston. What brings you here?”

Vivianne’s ash-gray eyes flickered with flustered confusion. Alice responded with a deliberate smile, her gaze softening. She was the one who pulled Vivianne off that balcony and thrust her into the circle of noblewomen, where the truth behind the rumors had been revealed. 

From the Countess of Thurston’s perspective, Vivianne had no doubt become a nuisance, since she had revealed the truth of the rumor there.

Vivianne couldn’t help but suspect that behind Alice’s friendly mask lay a different agenda.

“Did you not receive the invitation, Miss Aveline? There’s a tea party in the tearoom. When you didn’t show, I came to fetch you myself.”

It wasn’t Vivianne who reacted with outrage to the news—it was Sophie. Her face turned red, like a volcano spewing lava from its crown, just like the picture she’d once seen in a book. Fortunately, Alice seemed oblivious to the heated energy behind her.

“I appreciate the invitation, but I’m feeling quite unwell today. I think it’s best if I rest.”

“Miss Aveline.”

Just as Alice let out a regretful sigh and shook her head, Vivianne began to wonder what her true intentions were.

“By now, the rumor has spread far and wide—about a marriage proposal between the Duke and Miss Chadwick.”

Vivianne had suspected as much, but this was the first time someone had spoken about it so bluntly. If Alice had meant to mock her, she wouldn’t have chosen a private conversation. No—Alice clearly had a different purpose.

“Do you know what they’re saying? That the Duke of Baytnes is securing both a beautiful mistress and an even more beautiful wife.”

“I am neither of those things. If that’s what you came to say, then I see no reason to continue this—”

“Then are you planning to just let this rumor fester?”

Vivianne’s voice, sharp and resolute just a moment ago, halted in its tracks.

“People only hear what they want to hear and see what they want to see. Even if you insist there’s nothing between you and the Duke, just being seen together is enough to fuel the gossip, like tossing logs onto a fire.”

“…”

“That’s why you must act first. You need to ruin this engagement—completely.”

Alice stepped closer, eyes gleaming with fierce determination.

“You should be doing everything in your power to stop my marriage.”

“That’s the only way you can avoid both feeling like my mistress—and becoming one.”

As Edwin’s voice overlapped with Alice’s gaze, Vivianne’s heart trembled with nervous tension, as if something were just about to begin.

“A young lady must take control of her own reputation and her own life.”

What Alice had shown until now was not a mask—it was her true self. But this wasn’t the compassion of someone pitying a helpless victim. Alice, true to her words, had forged her own reputation and destiny. 

With a brisk snap of her fingers, Alice said:

“Choose the most beautiful and valuable jewel you own. Then, from head to toe, pour every ounce of care and effort into your appearance, so that no woman in Farrington can compare to you.”

By now, Sophie had cooled from her earlier fury, but her face burned with the same determined fire as Alice’s as she hurried over with quick steps.

The golden afternoon of autumn deepened, warm and ripe.

────── ✾ ──────

Stay strong, but don’t let worries weigh you down.

From the moment she stepped out with Alice, Vivianne kept her father’s words in her head like a mantra.

Still, her reason for following Alice wasn’t quite as either Alice or Edwin had framed it—to disrupt or sabotage the engagement. It was simpler than that: she didn’t want to break her promise to the Baroness. And truthfully, Vivianne hoped Edwin would find happiness with the one he loved.

Vivianne didn’t know if Edwin had fallen for Sarah Chadwick, but the fact that they had danced together and watched a performance side by side—that alone was a kind of declaration. So all she could do was appeal sincerely: that there was nothing romantic between herself and the Duke, and that she would soon be leaving his side. That she hoped Miss Chadwick wouldn’t be hurt by misunderstanding and rumor.

Whether it would work or not, she didn’t know. But as Alice had said, one must shape their own reputation and life.

When they arrived at the tearoom, where the tea party was in full swing, every pair of eyes turned toward them. A momentary silence filled the room like cold water had been poured on it.

In that chilling silence, Vivianne pressed her lips together.

Alice suddenly looped her arm around Vivianne’s and clung to her in a show of affection.

Before Vivianne could even react, Alice led her straight to the table where Sarah Chadwick was sitting. Pausing there, Alice casually looked for a seat among the disapproving noblewomen. And finding none, she nonchalantly instructed a servant to bring a chair.

“Sorry, but there’s no seat here. Would you mind sitting elsewhere?” One woman said.

“Oh, a seat appears when you make one,” Alice replied sweetly, her smile as bright as her intentions.

Vivianne stood awkwardly, hesitant even after the chair was brought over. If not for Alice, she might’ve remained frozen in place and embarrassed herself.

“I wasn’t aware maids had started attending noblewomen’s tea parties,” someone muttered with a giggle, clearly aimed at Vivianne. But such jabs couldn’t hurt her anymore—she would rather be treated like that.

“Is your maid attending this party, madam? You should whip her and send her out. She’s ruining your good name,” Alice said with a click of her tongue as if pitying the woman.

The woman who had spoken was left with no way to defend herself from the unexpected retort.

“My, my. Lady Thurston and Miss Aveline seem quite close. I’m jealous,” another lady chimed in playfully. Laughter rippled around the table, except from Sarah Chadwick.

“Yes, indeed. I’m thoroughly envious of their friendship,” another said.

“Well, I’m afraid I’ve already claimed that spot. So your envy won’t do you much good,” Alice replied.

“Ohoho, you’ve made quite the strategic alliance,” another teased.

For Vivianne, trying to smoothly blend in among the reigning queens of the social scene was no easy task. Her cheeks flushed as she became increasingly embarrassed to sit there.

“Oh, by the way,” someone said suddenly, “have you seen Miss Aveline’s necklace?”

Just as Vivianne began to sink into discomfort, Alice pointed toward her neck.

The necklace was a striking piece of diamonds and sapphires. Vivianne couldn’t recall the jeweler’s description, but she remembered how Alice had opened her jewelry box, discovered the necklace, and insisted this was the one she had to wear—even instructing that the dress be coordinated to match it.

“They say it’s the famous Tears of the Sea, don’t they? The one that supposedly led a royal family to ruin. With a necklace this expensive around her neck, I must say—I envy the Duke’s wealth today. Though, to be fair, given how famous it is, there are quite a few fakes out there too.”

Alice cast a sidelong glance at one of the noblewomen nearby. The woman, clearly feeling the jab, looked away with a sour expression, feigning disinterest. But the others were now fully focused on the sapphire necklace around Vivianne’s neck.

Under the autumn sunlight, the finely cut sapphire shimmered with exquisite brilliance.

As the noblewomen were distracted by the necklace, the silence Vivianne had so desperately wished for finally arrived. She knew that if she didn’t speak now, she’d never be able to break through the noblewomen’s constant stream of mockery again.

“Lady Thurston.”

Surprisingly, it was Sarah Chadwick who spoke first, before Vivianne could say anything.

“I believe those who give pleasure to others should be compensated appropriately, with something of equal worth,” she said. Then, turning her gaze from Alice to Vivianne, she added, “Because that’s their role, after all. Still, I must say, the Duke certainly has a sharp sense for numbers—he is the head of a large enterprise, after all. If he hadn’t been, I might’ve been a little disappointed in him.”

Though Sarah Chadwick delivered her barb with a pleasant, innocent smile, Vivianne’s composure wavered.

“Oh, and I heard something as well, Miss Aveline,” she continued. “The Duke apparently ordered a Carter cello for you? Since you enjoy the cello so much, I even recommended a concerto for the performance. I do hope it lived up to your expectations.”

Sarah Chadwick clearly intended to assert her dominance over Vivianne—to put her in her place before marriage, to mark the boundary she should never cross.

“If there’s a chance, I hope you’ll play for me sometimes too. After all, Carter instruments are notoriously expensive. The more they’re played, the better they age, so I’d be happy to help ensure it gets the attention it deserves.”

Vivianne, who had hoped to appeal with sincerity, quietly clenched her fists under the table.

Alice glanced at her, reading the humiliation in her expression. Until now, Vivianne had sat there with her lips sealed—hardly a match for Sarah. Alice refused to let her be trampled.

Just as Alice opened her mouth to speak on Vivianne’s behalf—