There Is No Paradise Where You Escaped - Chapter 90

The Rottermond Castle was thrown into chaos when the servants Edwin had sent out returned, alongside those who had been searching the back of the manor.

“I clearly saw Miss Aveline and Miss Windler heading up the forest path together earlier this afternoon.”

One maid, having just learned that the cause of all the uproar was the disappearance of the two women, relayed this to Susanna shortly after their departure to search for Vivianne and Charlotte.

Then the servants who had followed Edwin and Gideon returned.

“It seems the young ladies met with some misfortune in the forest. We found the fence along the path to the meadow broken, and His Grace went down the hill to rescue them.”

The news nearly made Susanna faint, but what truly struck her like a blow to the back of the head was something else.

“… Miss Windler is currently at the manor. We confirmed it with others—she was found in the stables. But she seemed to be in a terrible state…”

Charlotte, who had reportedly gone into the forest with Vivianne, had collapsed in the stables. There were also signs that someone had fallen near a fence along the forest path.

When all these circumstances were pieced together, they pointed to only one conclusion: Charlotte Windler had pushed Vivianne.

Vivianne had likely died from the fall, and Charlotte, consumed by guilt over having killed someone, hadn’t returned but instead hid in the stables.

Twisted with rage, Susanna immediately ordered that Charlotte be brought in and locked up.

Edwin would forever consider it a mistake to have taken Charlotte Windler in as his ward. The offspring of beasts’ love had, once again, brought forth another victim, she thought.

Despair washed over Susanna as she imagined how Edwin, who had once said he would die without Vivianne, must be feeling.

When Susanna heard that Charlotte and Gideon had returned to the manor, she headed there at once. In front of the tightly shut guest parlor, servants stood guarding the door.

As soon as she entered, Charlotte, who had been weeping miserably, quickly lifted her head. Gideon, who was by her side, rose and said something, but none of it reached Susanna’s ears.

Striding toward Charlotte with long, heavy steps, Susanna confronted her and immediately slapped her pale cheek with all her might.

“You wicked thing.”

Gideon, startled, tried to get between them, but Susanna’s anger—surging all the way to her head—could not be stopped.

“Filth like you will always have to pay. But why does my son have to bear that price? If the devil had a child, it would look just like you. Edwin must be pounding the floor in regret for not listening when I told him again and again to get rid of you.”

Her bitter curse, laced with long-suppressed sincerity, overflowed with resentment and malice she could no longer hold back.

Charlotte clutched her stinging cheek, unable to respond, and sobbed. She hunched over, crying helplessly.

“Did you think killing Aveline would make what you couldn’t have yours? I told you again and again—you can’t take anything more from me. If you thought I’d let you take even Eddie from me, you were wrong.”

“I didn’t kill her!” Charlotte, who had been shrinking smaller and smaller, finally cried out in protest.

Susanna raised her hand again.

Gideon barely managed to stop her, caught between the two women and drenched in sweat.

“Vivianne just lost her footing! I didn’t push her! I didn’t push her, I swear!” Charlotte screamed.

“You shameless murderer! You’re nothing but a worthless, lowly thing who came into this world by stepping over someone else’s life!”

Susanna, overcome with rage, hurled curses without restraint. She openly revealed her hatred for Charlotte, abandoning all pretense of dignity or decorum.

Charlotte, wronged and heartbroken, cried even more loudly.

Hell wasn’t some distant place—this place had already become one, shaped by the screams and sobs of the two women.

Susanna glared at the crying Charlotte as if she might devour her on the spot. Then, violently shaking off Gideon’s restraining hand, she commanded the servants:

“Make sure Windler doesn’t take a single step out of this room. Watch her closely—keep that filthy murderer from committing another crime. And as for you, Baron—I suggest you remove yourself from this mess. The marriage is clearly off, so go back to Farrington.”

Before Gideon could reply, Susanna stormed out of the drawing room.

Left behind, Gideon knelt in front of Charlotte, who was now crying even harder, and tried to comfort her with sorrowful eyes. Feeling her body tremble uncontrollably, he let out a deep sigh.

────── ✾ ──────

At dawn, those who had gone out returned.

Susanna, who hadn’t slept a wink all night, collapsed on the spot as soon as she saw Vivianne’s pale, corpse-like face. Carried back on a servant’s back, she was taken to her room, while Edwin brought Vivianne into her bedroom and laid her down.

Fortunately, Vivianne was still breathing. However, during the carriage ride back, the doctor offered little hope.

“It appears she injured her head in the fall. Thankfully, the bleeding was stopped quickly, and there are no obvious fractures, which is a relief under the circumstances. However, the problem is… that we can’t be sure what internal damage may have occurred. If she did suffer internal trauma… you’ll need to prepare yourselves.”

Sophie said she had gone to the forest path because Charlotte, who had returned alone, seemed strange. That was when she found the broken fence. But fearing that any delay might cost Vivianne her chance at emergency treatment, she didn’t waste time reporting it and descended the hill immediately.

That was when her arm broke.

“She had lost so much blood—I thought she was already dead. But she was still breathing. I found a small cave nearby that looked like it could offer some shelter, so I dragged her inside and hid with her.”

Even with her broken arm, Sophie had performed incredible feats. She built a fire to raise Vivianne’s dangerously low body temperature and transferred the heat of the flames to her with her palms, massaging her to keep her warm. Then, to make sure others could find them, she deliberately made noise to reveal their location.

The doctor praised Sophie’s efforts. If not for her, Vivianne would have died of hypothermia long ago.

After completing the treatment, the doctor removed his gloves and wiped the sweat from his forehead. He carefully dripped medicine between Vivianne’s lips, then packed up his medical bag as if his duty were done.

“Is that all?” Edwin asked coldly from behind.

His gaze remained fixed on Vivianne’s sleeping face. Though her golden hair—matted with blood—had been somewhat cleaned, dark stains still remained.

“I’ve checked for all other external injuries,” the doctor said.

“And?”

Vivianne’s chest rose and fell faintly. Her breath was lukewarm, and when touched somewhere, her fingertips twitched slightly.

Vivianne was alive. She hadn’t died. 

But if not for those small signs, her face looked as peaceful as someone who had already passed away. She seemed to be in such a deep sleep that she might never awaken.

“When will Vivianne wake up?”

Simply being alive—just that—wasn’t enough. It wasn’t enough to say she was going to be okay. Vivianne had to wake up. Edwin needed to see her open her eyes, take a deep breath, and move her lips.

“… As I said, I still cannot guarantee anything. If there was internal damage to her organs… the lady might…”

The doctor trailed off.

Edwin remained cold and emotionless. Even faced with the news of a potential death, he merely nodded impassively. The doctor was relieved by the guardian’s composure, but at the same time, found it difficult to understand.

“Please also take good care of Sophie. I’m sure she went through a lot. Make sure she’s given enough painkillers.”

“Yes, Your Grace.”

Once the doctor left, the room was filled only with the scent of Vivianne. Only Edwin and Vivianne remained.

He stood motionless, staring blankly at Vivianne’s peaceful face as she lay still.

His slow footsteps brought him closer until he stopped before the bed. Edwin reached out and stroked her dry, lifeless cheek. Her skin was cold, with barely a trace of warmth, so faint that even a gentle spring breeze could extinguish it.

Edwin leaned closer, taking in Vivianne’s pale face.

      So this is what you look like when you’re dying.

A face without smiles, without sorrow, without anger—without anything. The more that empty expression settled into his eyes, the more vividly he remembered the Vivianne of the past: the woman who angered easily, who sometimes laughed heartily, who swam in the lake like a carefree child—yet broke into tearful apologies when touched by guilt.

Edwin pressed his lips to Vivianne’s cold ones.

Feeling a flicker of warmth inside her lips, he pulled away.

He had wished for Vivianne’s death, but not at someone else’s hands.

Even as the death he’d longed for since childhood approached, he felt nothing. Because he couldn’t kill her with his own hands, he should’ve felt rage. And since Vivianne was close to death, he should’ve felt joy. But none of it satisfied him.

Vivianne, lying like a corpse, stirred nothing in him. She was just a withered daffodil now.

Edwin pulled the thick blanket up to her neck, then added more logs to the fire burning fiercely in the fireplace. Then, without a word, he left her room.

────── ✾ ──────

The place he headed next was the drawing room, where Charlotte was being held. Having already heard all the news, he could piece together the day’s events without issue.

When he flung open the door, Baron Zimmerman and Charlotte were sitting side by side. At the sight of Edwin, Charlotte’s tear-stained eyes instantly filled with terror.

With long, heavy strides, he crossed the room and sat opposite the frozen Charlotte, casually crossing one leg over the other. His expression didn’t change, as if no incident had occurred at all.

“Explain, Charlotte.”

His voice was as dry as ever. The way he questioned her—like an interrogation—was no different from usual. But that very calmness was more terrifying.

It would’ve been more human if he had shouted, if he had emotionally demanded, “Why did you do it?”

“Your Grace, allow me to explain. Right now, Miss Windler is—”

“Were you there too, Baron?”

Even as Edwin spoke, his icy blue eyes never left Charlotte.

“Or was it something the Baron instructed you to do?”

“She didn’t do it on purpose,” Gideon interjected on Charlotte’s behalf. “It was an accident. She ran away out of fear after seeing Miss Aveline… pass away. It’s true she was wrong not to report it sooner, but please understand—she didn’t intend for Miss Aveline to die, Your Grace.”

Everything Gideon left unsaid was deliberate. He chose not to mention how Vivianne had asked Charlotte for help, and how Charlotte had ignored her and walked away. The dead could not return. So the living had to survive.

“I see.”

Charlotte, who had been trembling like a leaf with her head bowed, slowly lifted her eyes and met Edwin’s.

“Charlotte.”

“…”

“The cause and effect don’t matter to me. That’s not why I’m here. Whether you pushed Vivianne or she simply misstepped and fell—what difference does it make?”

“Your Grace, Miss Windler—”

“But someone has to take responsibility for this.”

Gideon was rendered speechless by the Duke’s cruel words.

To Edwin, what mattered now was not the truth, but that someone be held accountable for the consequences. Regardless of the circumstances or reasons, those were beyond his concern. Vivianne had met with an accident while she was with someone. Therefore, that someone had to pay the price.

Gideon wasn’t the only one whose face turned pale at such blind, one-sided judgment.

“You’ll be sent to Rickford Prison in Farrington. After that, you’ll stand trial.”

“Y-Your Grace…”

“And instead of execution, you’ll receive life imprisonment. You’ll rot in a cell for the rest of your days.”

Gideon slammed the table and jumped to his feet.

“Your Grace! That’s far too harsh a sentence! Yes, Miss Windler made a mistake, but it was her first time facing something like that—she panicked. You’re turning this into something far more serious than it is. Isn’t Miss Windler part of your household? How could you not give her even a single chance to beg forgiveness—!”

“I am giving Charlotte a chance, Baron.”

His icy gaze and chilling expression sucked the warmth out of the room. He was sharper, calmer, more merciless than ever—like the calmness before a storm.

“Vivianne barely survived. That’s why I’m choosing to settle this with life imprisonment.”

Then his gaze fell back on Charlotte.

And she, stunned by the unexpected turn of events, opened her tear-soaked eyes wide.

“If Vivianne had died…”

The way Edwin looked at her was like a drawn blade, or the barrel of a gun pressed beneath her chin, ready to fire without hesitation.

“… I would have shot you dead right here.”