There Is No Paradise Where You Escaped - Chapter 79

Vivianne stood in front of the door, smoothing her skirt and adjusting the lace one last time before knocking. When she opened the door and stepped inside, the brightly lit lamp greeted her. The servant tending the fireplace left the bedroom at Edwin’s command.

Seated at the table with a book in hand, Edwin looked up at Vivianne and lazily narrowed his eyes. Behind him, the horizon spread wide through the window, colored by the deep twilight.

“Come in,” he greeted her warmly.

His gentle tone lit up Vivianne’s face. She touched her cheek with the back of her hand as she slowly walked closer.

On the table sat a large box wrapped in gift paper.

Edwin nodded toward it.

Everyone—including the two of them—already knew what was inside: a cello. But the careful wrapping showed someone’s sincere thoughtfulness, and it tickled her heart, whether it had been done by the man in front of her or the instrument seller.

With shy fingers, Vivianne slowly unwrapped the paper.

When she saw the high-quality cello case, she wondered if she was really allowed to receive something like this. It had been ordered while she was still in Farrington, yes, but the timing of its arrival felt as though it could easily be misunderstood. It felt like the cello had been given in exchange for the kiss she had allowed—a gift stained with a reputation she didn’t want.

But the moment she opened the case, that guilty, overthinking burden melted away. The scent of a brand-new cello, untouched by anyone else, sent a shiver through her chest. Vivianne’s eyes sparkled with a pure, innocent light. With an admiring gaze, she took out the cello and bow, smiling brightly. It was a smile she herself was unaware of.

“Do you like it?”

“Yes. I really do.”

She nodded and gently brushed her fingers along the strings. The emotion in her voice gave him a sense of fulfillment.

Pluck, pluck. She lightly strummed the strings, her eyes widening in admiration.

“The sound is beautiful. And the resonance, too.”

Suddenly aware of herself, Vivianne realized how foolishly she must’ve been smiling. Embarrassed, she cleared her throat and, trying to suppress her happiness, returned the cello and bow to the case.

“… Thank you so much. I don’t know if I deserve such a generous gift.”

“It’s not a gift. It’s a bribe.”

As she finished fastening the case latches, Edwin stood up and approached her. Her heart shrank at the sudden shortening of distance. Just being that close made time slow and space disappear. Holding her breath, Vivianne stared nervously at her feet.

Edwin unfastened the latches she had just closed, took the cello from the case, and handed it to her again.

Vivianne accepted it without thinking, her eyes trembling faintly.

“Play the cello in front of me every night. That’s what I bought it for.”

A buzzing sound filled her ears. Amidst the steady noise, Edwin’s voice came through clearly. Her lips felt dry, so she ran her tongue over them.

“Play something now.”

With a faint smile, he sat back down.

“… But I can’t remember a single piece right now.”

“Anything. Whatever comes to mind. Even just a few bars.”

Vivianne, fiddling with the cello, hesitantly sat down and cradled it in her arms. She rubbed her sweaty palms on her thighs and stole a glance at him. His eyes didn’t clearly show whether he had any expectations, but the pressure to do well remained the same.

Holding the bow, Vivianne recalled a short melody. She tried playing right away, but the high-quality instrument only made her clumsy performance sound worse. Embarrassed by her poor playing, she froze.

“Why did you stop?” Edwin asked calmly, his composure a stark contrast to Vivianne’s flushed face.

A scathing remark would have been easier for her to handle than this detached question.

“I-I can’t remember. But the sound of the cello is so beautiful… It doesn’t even feel like something that suits me. If it had met a different owner, it could’ve produced far better music.”

She quickly changed the subject, afraid he might ask her to play again despite her being so unprepared.

“Well. Is that really true?”

At times, she wondered if this man was always a little drunk. The deep curve of his lips as he smiled, the way his long, sharp eyes crinkled—it was the same expression she’d seen when he was tipsy. Butterflies fluttered in her stomach, and the ticklish sensation spread to her fingertips, which then she brushed against the strings.

The crackling of burning firewood and the smoky scent filled the stillness. Slowly lifting her head, Vivianne looked at Edwin. His blue eyes, reminiscent of a lake, glistened as they reflected the flickering embers.

“… Is there, um, a song you’d like to hear? I could practice and play it for you.”

Before the silence grew heavier, Vivianne stirred the air with her words. Only then did Edwin avert his gaze and sink into thought. The wavering fire cast deep shadows across his face. Beneath the shadow of his lashes, his blue eyes shone faintly.

Vivianne’s gaze traced his high nose bridge down to his red lips, and her throat burned like the logs in the fireplace. 

She knew exactly what those lips had done to her. And she knew what she had allowed them to do. Those red, plump lips had pressed against and licked hers, and had slipped something of him between the parting of her mouth. Recalling the slick, tangled sensation that made her thighs clench involuntarily.

Vivianne tore her eyes away, struggling to erase the memory of that kiss.

“Lamento d’Amore… Do you know it?” His voice seemed to flow out like a stream of consciousness.

Vivianne stumbled through her memories, focusing on the flickering lamp of recollection. Soon, her face lit up as the memory returned. She hadn’t seen the sheet music, but she knew it was a fairly well-known piano piece.

She remembered Sánchez used to play it often, though it had been so long that she couldn’t recall the exact melody.

All she knew was that it had been written by a once-rising composer and that the composer’s works had gained great popularity in Erinique, near Neway.

“I don’t know it well, but I’ve heard of it. I think the composer was from Erinique. How do you know that song, Your Grace? Ah, well, I suppose it wouldn’t have been hard to come across, since Neway and Erinique are close.”

Edwin’s blue eyes deepened. After a brief pause, his lips slowly parted.

“I happened to hear it during the Battle of Greenford.”

Vivianne didn’t know Neway’s history in detail, but even she had heard the name Battle of Greenford to the point of exhaustion. Sophie and Charlotte had mentioned it, and the nobles in Farrington never got tired of bringing it up when bored.

“How did you know the title?”

“There was sheet music. And the song wasn’t composed by someone from Erinique.”

“… Then by whom?”

“My brother composed it.”

The smile faded from Vivianne’s lips. Even if he hadn’t meant to, Edwin knew exactly how to stop her heart. The same man who could make her heart race also knew how to make it freeze. Perhaps he had been the true owner of her heart from the very beginning.

The silence Vivianne had tried so hard to dispel sank even deeper. All she could do was hold her breath and wait for his voice. That was the most she could manage.

Within that heavy quiet, Edwin recalled the battle.

On the night of the attempt to reclaim Greenford from Erinique, Neway’s operation to breach the coast was thwarted from the outset. Erinique, already aware of the strategy, launched a devastating barrage that annihilated Neway’s vanguard fleet. Survivors from the wreckage clung to debris, howling in despair.

Amid the chaos, Edwin survived—without even a second to spare for the luxury of choosing between life and death. The distance from the wreck site to land was several kilometers. Even if he swam through the cold, midnight sea with all his strength, there was no guarantee he would survive once he reached shore.

But Edwin swam the entire distance. For one reason alone.

“I’ll be waiting, so please live.”

“Please survive.”

That single voice urged him on without pause. With every ounce of strength, he swam toward the place where that voice might still reach him. Around that time, the first light of dawn began staining the horizon. When he finally reached the rocks near the shore—relatively close to land—the troops who had once pursued him were nowhere in sight.

In the end, everyone in the vanguard fleet had sunk beneath the sea—everyone except him.

At the foot of a cliff, Edwin spotted two Erinique soldiers secretly smoking. He dove underwater, crept up on them, took them down, stole their weapons, and slipped into the enemy’s camp. He didn’t stop to calculate his chances—he simply had to survive.

His mind was filled with nothing but the joyful chatter of the girl from that day.

It had been easy to sow chaos among the unsuspecting Erinique soldiers. He set fire to the camp, assassinated the commanding officer, and as Neway’s surrounding forces noticed the confusion in the enemy camp, they launched a full offensive.

Thus, with the successful recapture of Greenford—a key strategic point—the first war with Erinique, who had long coveted Neway’s territory, came to an end.

All of this happened in the short span between dawn and afternoon. A single, blood-soaked dream.

While clearing out the last of the Erinique forces in Greenford, Edwin heard a piano playing from a ruined building. Inside, he found a lone Erinique soldier playing his final song.

Edwin slowly blinked, pushing the memory away.

He remembered deciding to spare that soldier, moved by the music. But when the man suddenly turned on him, brandishing a blade, Edwin had no choice but to kill him. On the blood-soaked sheet music, he found a name: Jerome Raven.

And all the memories of that moment were cast into the shadows.

“… I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”

Vivianne’s voice broke the suffocating silence, pulling Edwin from the past back into the present.

He hadn’t spoken to make her feel guilty, yet seeing her willingly sink into guilt made him want to torment her even more.

If he could torment her enough, maybe the memories that had surfaced would blur like mist.

Edwin stood up and took the cello and bow from Vivianne’s arms, carelessly placing them on top of the case.

Confused, Vivianne flailed her arms like a child whose favorite toy had been taken away. She let out a quiet sigh as she watched her cello being handled so roughly.

Then Edwin pulled her arm toward him, wrapped one arm around her slender waist, and covered her lips with his.

As always, Edwin’s kiss came without warning—fast and unrelenting.

Vivianne’s eyes widened in surprise, but soon she closed them naturally. She held onto Edwin’s arms wrapped around her waist.

Her cheeks turned a deep shade of red. The flame he passed onto her spread thick and fast through her body.

As the kiss deepened, Vivianne’s breath grew ragged. His large hand climbed up her back, gently caressing the nape of her neck.

It felt like thousands of butterflies were fluttering in her belly, the ticklish sensation reaching all the way to her scalp and making her entire body tremble.

Time slowed down.

Space dissolved.

And so, the deepening night went unnoticed.