There Is No Paradise Where You Escaped - Chapter 78

Charlotte’s footsteps quickened as she crossed the hallway. Her pale complexion gave the impression that she was enduring something. Hurriedly returning to her room, Charlotte locked the door. At that moment, a wave of nausea surged in. A maid, approaching with concern, immediately turned back to fetch a bucket. A wrought-iron bucket glinted dimly in her bleary vision.

Charlotte tried to cover her mouth with both hands, but quickly reached her limit and finally couldn’t hold back, vomiting violently.

The blood rushing to her head increased the pressure in her eyes. The pain in her eyeballs soon morphed into a throbbing headache, which in turn intensified her nausea.

Even amidst this relentless agony, the one thing that wouldn’t leave her mind was Edwin’s face—always ruthless and cold. He was a man no one was allowed to have. No one had ever had him, and no one had ever settled in his heart. Not just her—everyone seemed to want him, but no one could possess him.

Exhausted from vomiting, Charlotte gasped for breath and collapsed to the floor.

The maid’s bothersome questions continued.

“Are you ill? Is something wrong? Should I call a doctor? Shall I inform the Duke?”

Charlotte irritably pushed away the maid who tormented her with relentless questioning and was left alone in the silence. She sat hunched over, staring blankly into the air.

Vivianne was special to Edwin. Charlotte knew it. Anyone who knew him would have thought the same. So no one could carelessly mistreat Vivianne Aveline. Also, the fact that he had dismissed many of the maids because of Vivianne clearly showed how much she meant to him. No one in Neway had ever been held in his arms, but Vivianne had shattered that truth.

He must have fallen in love with her at first sight when he happened to see her. He had likely spent a fortune to buy this otherwise useless manor. A man who never moved his funds without formal transactions had even lent money to Vivianne, for her, and only for her, because he wanted to be close to her.

But the proud Vivianne hadn’t so much as flinched at any of Edwin’s attempts to win her over. She was always uncomfortable, kept her distance, and remained cold. Edwin may have, for the first time in his life, found someone he truly wanted to reach—but that distance couldn’t be closed.

Yes. Until she confirmed their secret tryst in the library, that’s how she had imagined the two of them. She believed Edwin’s one-sided affection would never reach Vivianne. That Vivianne, burdened by her debts and with nowhere to go, could only endure his advances.

But the innocent face of Vivianne she remembered had come crumbling down. Vivianne, who had so firmly drawn a line and said such a thing would never happen with Edwin, had gone back on her word—and given herself to him.

There had been a strange rift between Edwin’s unusually impatient voice and Vivianne’s faint, sob-like breathing. The flushed faces of the two haunted Charlotte’s mind—they wouldn’t leave her.

The image of Vivianne closing her eyes and giving herself to Edwin—and of him holding her small head as he kept pushing in—flashed through her mind, and the nausea hit her again.

Charlotte had no choice but to grab the bucket again, gagging repeatedly despite having nothing left in her stomach.

After a while, the vomiting subsided, but now a sharp pain gripped her chest. Without a sound, Charlotte clutched her chest and curled up in pain.

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Late at night, Theo, having turned off all the lights in the dress shop, gathered his things. Among them, the most important was Vivianne’s letter. Vivianne, having returned from Farrington, had sent a late reply.

For her—someone who had crossed into Neway and stepped out of Rodinia for the first time—it had been nothing short of an adventure. The castle in Rottermond, which he had never visited, appeared vividly in his mind as if he had seen it for himself. Even the complicated, dazzling, and seemingly endless nights of Farrington were vivid, as though he had experienced them too.

Theo was planning to write a letter in return once he got home. And in it, if possible, he would ask her to come down to town to visit his dress shop.

He didn’t want to trouble Vivianne, but he also didn’t want her to have to ask the Duke of Baytness for anything. That arrogant and conceited duke—there was no telling what he might do if Vivianne hesitated while asking him for a favor.

The thought of her leaving Rodinia with such a man made Theo uneasy, but at least it wouldn’t be a trip with just the two of them. He had decided to place his trust in Charlotte, who loved the duke. But in the letter, Charlotte had already promised marriage to another man. Feeling betrayed and lost in thought, Theo clenched his teeth in frustration.

If only I had a little more power. If only I were the kind of man who could protect Vivianne.

Scowling, Theo irritably kicked a pebble at his feet. The clatter of the stone rolling into the darkness was followed by the sound of a drunken song echoing nearby.

Theo sighed deeply when he spotted a large, shadowy figure swaying faintly in the dark.

It was the town’s infamous drunkard—a mysterious man from the South. It was rare to find him sober, and he often picked fights with others. Not long ago, Mortimer from the apothecary had given him a thorough beating.

Yet here he was again, drunk out of his mind. If he tried to pick a fight, Theo knew he wasn’t the type to let it go quietly. He silently hoped the drunkard would just pass by.

The drunkard staggered along, singing loudly. As the distance between them narrowed, he finally seemed to notice Theo and lowered his voice. Theo hoped to pass without incident, but things didn’t go his way. Though the man quieted his singing, he abruptly turned in Theo’s direction.

The sudden movement caused their bodies to collide, and the precious letter Theo was carrying fell to the ground.

“Oh, oh. I’m so sorry!”

The drunkard grinned foolishly and, unable to keep his balance, bent down to pick up the fallen letter.

Theo frowned silently, not bothering to respond. Just as he ignored the crouching drunkard and reached for the letter himself, the man snatched Vivianne’s letter away with startling speed.

“What do you think you’re doing right now?”

Theo sighed with irritation, utterly dumbfounded. He tried to snatch the precious letter back from the drunkard’s hand, but the man, his gaze deeply fixated on something within the letter, showed no intention of letting go. His bloodshot eyes trembled, and the hand gripping the letter was visibly shaking.

“Give it to me,” Theo demanded.

But before he could finish speaking, the drunkard let out a roar, tore the letter to shreds, threw it to the ground, and began stomping on it.

There was no way Theo would just stand by and watch that happen. With a snap, his restraint shattered. He grabbed the drunkard by the collar.

In the depths of night, the noise that shook the town from sleep continued until dawn.

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Sophie returned to Vivianne’s bedroom, her face filled with unrelenting concern. For days now, Vivianne had been losing her grip on reality. There had been moments like this back in Farrington, too, but this time it felt different.

When Vivianne read a book, she didn’t turn the pages. Her mind was filled with other thoughts all day long. The only time she seemed remotely present was during lunch or dinner. Vivianne, who never looked in the mirror before meals, now stood in front of it for long periods, smoothing wrinkles from her dress or arranging her hair. And after eating, she would sit again, staring blankly by the window, or open a book she had never truly read.

When Sophie asked what was wrong, all she ever got was, “Nothing.”

Late in the evening, the rest of the belongings from Farrington arrived in Rodinia. Sophie, having received instructions from Abernathy, made her way to Vivianne with hope in her heart. She thought that hearing the Duke’s gift had arrived might finally lift Vivianne’s spirits.

“Miss Vivianne,” Sophie said gently as she entered the bedroom, where Vivianne sat quietly with a book. But her unmoving eyes didn’t respond, as if she hadn’t heard her name.

“My lady?” Sophie tried again, but still no answer.

“My lady!”

Only after Sophie called out loudly did Vivianne flinch in surprise, her body trembling as she looked around for Sophie.

As if waking from a trance, Vivianne straightened up and closed the book she hadn’t been reading.

“Huh? What? What’s going on?”

Sophie wondered if she should call for a doctor. She was genuinely worried. If things were the same tomorrow, Vivianne would need to see a doctor to determine the cause of her illness. Her condition was far from promising.

“The Duke is looking for you, Miss Vivianne. Your gift has arrived.”

“What? Who?”

“… The Duke. Your cello has arrived, my lady.”

“Oh, the cello… ah…”

Vivianne slowly rose to her feet. Sophie thought she might be heading out of the bedroom, but instead, she walked over to the mirror. She inspected her slightly disheveled hair and began tidying it neatly.

Sophie tried to help, but Vivianne, now adept at handling her own hair, didn’t need assistance.

After fixing her hair, Vivianne examined her dress. Watching her inspect every wrinkle with hawk-like precision, Sophie couldn’t help but wonder:

Is she trying to look good for the Duke?

As Vivianne, now ready, headed toward the door, Sophie—who had swallowed her question—quietly followed behind. But then Vivianne stopped and turned back to face her.

“I’ll go alone. Could you wait here for me?”

“… Will you be all right?”

“Of course. I’ll be fine,” Vivianne replied with an awkward smile.

It was suspicious, like someone trying to hide something. Something was definitely wrong with Vivianne. That much was certain.

But what exactly had happened? Their days had gone on as usual—nothing out of the ordinary.

As Vivianne left the bedroom, Sophie’s worries only deepened.

She glanced out the window and saw that it was already dark. Drawing the curtains, Sophie thought about how cold the nights had been lately. She would need to light the fire in advance to warm the room.