There Is No Paradise Where You Escaped - Chapter 76

Edwin’s coat hung loosely around Vivianne’s ankles. At some point, the hand holding her arm let go, and another gently pulled the coat collar up under her chin. Every time his fingers brushed her skin, she shivered.

The anger in Vivianne’s eyes quickly melted away. She turned her head from side to side, inspecting the draped coat, then looked up at Edwin.

His sleek black hair was neatly swept back. His skin was flawless, his eyes long and sharp, his nose high and straight, his lips full and red. He was dressed so impeccably that it was hard to find a single fault—he reflected the very image of her own tantrum from just moments earlier. Feeling embarrassed and ashamed, Vivianne bit the soft flesh inside her cheek.

The scent wafting from the coat gave her the illusion of being held in his arms. Disliking the feeling, Vivianne tried to take it off, but Edwin’s approaching hand wouldn’t allow it.

Edwin naturally took her hand. Though her body stiffened, she clung to him without any fierce resistance. Holding her hand, Edwin gently led her forward. Dragged along, stumbling, Vivianne clutched the front of the expensive coat tightly to keep it from slipping.

Soon, the narrow and stifling boxwood path came to an end. What appeared next was a small, well-manicured resting area. The angel statue atop a horse in the center was far more magnificent than it had seemed from her room.

Vivianne had thought the path would never appear, but realizing they had reached the middle of the maze, she brightened and bounced slightly.

“There was a path after all. I thought there wasn’t one. I saw this statue when I looked down from my room. It seemed so small from up there, but it’s actually really big up close.”

Vivianne’s steps grew lighter with joy, but the firm grip on her hand prevented her from fully enjoying her freedom. Slowing her pace, she stayed quietly by his side.

Edwin didn’t let go of her hand, but he followed wherever she wanted to go. Standing before the statue, a strange light appeared in Vivianne’s gray eyes, as if she were witnessing the descent of a real angel.

Her face—now pure and bright like a child’s—was unfamiliar; he had never seen her like this. Yet it was also familiar, reminiscent of the portrait hanging in the study. He regretted coming here with the simple intention of rescuing her. With each step, Vivianne exuded a sweet floral scent as she smiled innocently. This Vivianne, who had lashed out at him, had sweat on her forehead despite the cool air, and now, she was quickly breaking down his self-control.

“I think I saw a similar piece in Rottermond. Is it by the same sculptor?”

Her innocent gaze turned to Edwin. But the answer she waited for didn’t come.

“… The statue at the entrance of the maze garden was also really impressive.”

Edwin had already abandoned the thought of possessing Vivianne. Taking her would bring not gain, but loss. If that was the case, then he could endure it. If taking her would only bring loss, then simply not taking her was the solution.

“… Next time, I’ll find the path myself. It was nice to see such a beautiful piece of art, but I think it would’ve meant more if I had found my way here on my own and come across it like that.”

But what more did he have to endure here?

Only now did Edwin realize that such things were impossible in front of Vivianne. He had to find a reasonable compromise. If he couldn’t have all of her, then he would take at least some part of the woman he deeply desired.

Feeling awkward in the silence, Vivianne adjusted Edwin’s coat on herself. She glanced once at his hand, still not letting go, then gave it a shake, as if to say they should leave now.

And then, it happened.

Edwin pulled her by the hand, lifted her chin gently with his fingertips, and kissed her.

It all happened in an instant. Vivianne’s eyes widened in shock. As memories of yesterday’s nightmare flashed through her mind, she pushed against his chest, and his burning lips easily yielded.

“…”

Vivianne stepped back, putting distance between them, and looked at him in silence. Her eyes showed a mix of hostility, caution, and profound confusion. He had promised—promised her, as proof of her plea to avoid a shameful death, and he had even helped her put her disheveled clothes back on.

Yet here he was again: reaching for her hand, giving her his coat, kissing her.

She wanted to ask him: What am I to you?

Do you, even a little…

The questions itched in her throat, but she choked them down.

Because she must never ask.

He couldn’t possibly harbor such foolish sentiments for someone from the family who had murdered his parents and siblings.

So the question, bubbling in her mind, couldn’t be let out so carelessly.

She had no courage to face his sneer, to hear him mock her.

It wasn’t any different from the way the men at the auction had looked at her when they came to see the manor.

It would be utterly ridiculous to give voice to her own complex, sensitive emotions over what was surely just the fruit of instinct and lust.

“In Preston, my governess once told me something.”

“…” 

“She said men would pull stars from the sky just to spend a night with a woman… That naive ladies foolishly fall for the smooth, sweet words of such men.”

On that last night in the Royal Palace, she had melted into his kiss because she had been foolishly deceived. It had been a reckless act, born of being tricked by a man who had courted her only to disgrace her.

Edwin stepped closer, his large hand gently cupping Vivianne’s cheek. She didn’t back away but lowered her head defensively so that he wouldn’t steal another kiss so easily.

“You must’ve thought it wasn’t worth the trouble to force yourself on me and make me cry, right? After all, there must be no shortage of women eager to take a place in the duke’s bed. So instead, you dress me in your coat and try to lure me in, hoping I’ll come willingly? If that’s your plan, Duke, then you’ve got it completely wrong.”

“…” 

“I will never… never be some moth throwing herself into your flame.”

Her voice was steady and firm, not a hint of hesitation. Even with the dramatic metaphor of a moth, it was clear what she meant—though to him, it may as well have been a joke.

Edwin brushed his fingers along her sharp chin. His warm breath, so close, seemed to press around her neck, suffocating. Her own breath began to tremble.

“So then, now…”

“Were you about to fall for me?”

Vivianne jerked her head up. Only then did she register how close he was. She tried to step back, but there was nowhere to retreat.

“So giving someone a coat is enough to bewitch, is it?” Edwin said.

“That’s not what I meant—”

Her lips trembled with panic. Edwin’s grip on her hand grew firmer. His thumb gently parted her lips. When his fingertip touched the wet inner surface of her lower lip, a glint of moisture sparkled on his skin.

Vivianne swallowed hard and grabbed his hand on impulse.

“Just give me your lips.”

Her attempt to stop him froze. Her eyes wavered, startled and uncertain.

“W-what…?”

“Your lips.”

His wet fingertip grew bolder, stroking her lips. The sensation of his thumb pressing against them was languid, meticulous, and strangely cautious. A hot, burning sensation spread through the inside of her mouth.

“Let me have your lips instead of having you. Give them to me.”

He demanded it confidently. The same Edwin who had once threatened to take her countless times had now taken a step back—and somehow, that restraint sent a chill down her spine.

“A kiss doesn’t rob you of your virtue. You don’t have to feel ashamed before death.”

His lips moved gently, coaxing. Her gaze fell on them without realizing it. They were perfectly full, perfectly red. She knew the taste of those lips. That narrow, dark night—his kiss had tasted like champagne. That was why she’d gotten drunk. Even though she knew it would only bring her regret, like champagne that was only sweet, she couldn’t escape the addictive feeling.

“So give them to me.”

Edwin’s thumb pressed lightly under her chin. Her lips, which had been pressed tight, parted slightly.

“It’s just your lips. That’s all.”

After that, all the noise faded away.

Just as their first kiss hadn’t begun by her will, nor the second kiss yesterday, so too did this third kiss begin without her will.

Very slowly and gently, their lips met.

In her mind, she knew. She knew she had to stop this kiss. She knew she had to reject the unreasonable demand—to give only her lips instead of herself.

But Vivianne did not push him away.

Edwin let go of her hand and instead wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her into a deep embrace. He gently sucked on her lower lip, letting a sweet scent from his mouth slip between her teeth. The kiss wasn’t rough, but its gentleness stirred something inside her. A warm, sticky feeling spread through her body and made her head spin.

Vivianne’s body melted helplessly.

Her heels lifted off the ground in a silent motion of wanting his kiss.

Edwin lifted her light body and sat her on the pedestal of the statue. For the first time, Vivianne looked down at him from above, breathless, her hands resting on his shoulders.

“Promise me… promise me.”

Edwin’s blue eyes, warm and glazed with heat, dropped to her trembling lips.

“Promise me it’s only my lips you’ll take… that you won’t want anything more.”

Getting drunk on sweet champagne had been enough once, but the intoxication had already set in. And now, that intoxication was leading her to another mistake.

Edwin nodded languidly and drew her in again, kissing her deeply.

Their breath mixed, warm and heavy, between their close lips. Their soft lips tingled with the overwhelming feeling.

In Neway, they said a kiss between a man and a woman wasn’t such a bad thing. Something that could easily happen.

That was what Vivianne told herself.

There was no one to interrupt. No time to regret it.

This was the heart of the maze—a forbidden paradise.