There Is No Paradise Where You Escaped - Chapter 95

It had already been three days since they returned to Rodinia. With the master of the manor back, the grand winter estate regained its liveliness. While Vivianne had chosen the path of life at the brink of life and death, Charlotte had stepped onto the opposite path. It was the result of her own choice. Knowing this, no one else objected to Edwin’s harsh decision; they understood there was a reason for it.

However, only two people—Vivianne and Baron Zimmerman—stood in opposition, attempting countless times to persuade him.

Baron Zimmerman’s protests were within understandable bounds. He claimed he would sacrifice his life for Charlotte, insisted Vivianne didn’t love the Duke, and argued that Charlotte’s actions stemmed from her familial distress. He spouted such nonsense without end.

But Vivianne, swayed by that brief bond, became endlessly soft-hearted. She could not fathom what that time, more than a week spent in sleep, might have meant to someone else, and so she acted as she did.

“These are all the letters that arrived today for Miss Aveline.”

They were from Baron Zimmerman, Theo, and various noblewomen. Edwin tore open every letter from Baron Zimmerman and examined the contents closely. To anyone else, they might have seemed like passionate love letters—every line full of effort. Gideon was shaking Vivianne, whom he believed to be Edwin’s weakness, and naturally, Vivianne wavered. So, of course, she stubbornly came to say things like “release Charlotte” or “you have no right,” spouting her own brand of nonsense.

Edwin crumpled Baron Zimmerman’s letters and tossed them into the flames without a second thought. In the blazing fire, the sincerity of Charlotte’s pitiable circumstances and heartfelt pleas turned to a handful of ash.

“Bring the rest to Vivianne.”

“Yes, Your Grace.”

After Charlotte was found guilty, the Zimmerman family fiercely opposed the marriage between the two. Yet seeing that he would not bend his will, one could say that Baron Zimmerman’s love for Charlotte surpassed sincerity—it could be considered a fate bestowed by the heavens. If not for what had happened in Rottermond, Charlotte would now be beginning her mornings in the embrace of a husband brimming with love as deep as the sea—not waking to a morning damp and moldy, reeking of filth and must.

“Nothing unusual with Vivianne? Report her health condition regularly. We never know when another problem might arise.”

“I’ll keep that in mind. Today, Miss Aveline stayed quietly in her room. She’s embroidering with Sophie.”

“Have you delivered the payment to Sophie?”

If one had to name the hero of this incident, it would certainly be Sophie. Despite her broken arm, she had managed to call for a rescue and was promised a reward large enough that she would never need to work again.

“Yes. Sophie refused it firmly at first, but accepted the money at Miss Aveline’s persuasion. Even then, she expressed a desire to continue working at the manor.”

Vivianne was a woman who understood the situation. She must have convinced Sophie to use the money to pay for the tuition of her many younger siblings. Picturing that scene made him want to praise Vivianne—yet she had only lost her sense of judgment before him. She was truly a strange woman.

“I see.”

Having finished his business, Abernathy prepared to leave. There was a faintly hesitant look on his face, and Edwin gazed at him silently. That hesitation was likely because Abernathy, too, wished to bring up Charlotte. But knowing his master’s temperament, Abernathy chose instead to turn away—though he couldn’t help but find it cruel that Edwin intended to condemn Charlotte, who had been with him since childhood, to rot in prison for life.

After Abernathy left, Edwin remained alone, looking out at the falling darkness beyond the window. The shadows of twilight, deepening to navy, clung to the ends of the clouds, only to be swiftly swallowed by the dark.

Standing by the window, Edwin recalled a letter that had recently arrived from Roarke.

Roarke, who had gone ahead to Preston, had written to say he had arrived safely and that there were no particular problems there. He added that, come the approaching spring, if Edwin arrived safely in Preston, their plan would proceed as scheduled.

Just as Edwin turned away from the window, a knock sounded. When he was granted permission to enter, the visitor revealed herself—it was none other than Vivianne. Her expression was the same as ever, like a repeated mark. Growing weary of it, Edwin merely glanced her way before heading to his seat. By the time he picked up an overturned glass on the table and filled it halfway with whiskey, Vivianne had sat down.

Edwin grimaced, arrogantly slumping back in his chair as he swallowed the whiskey.

“When… did you start liking alcohol?” Vivianne’s lips parted with difficulty.

Knowing full well that her interest didn’t lie there, Edwin chuckled lightly. Vivianne’s way of beginning with a preamble to steer the conversation toward what she really wanted was always refined.

“Well… I don’t remember.”

“… I think you drink too often. It’s definitely not good for your health.”

“So?”

“So… I wish you would cut back a little.”

Even considering her reasoning, Vivianne was unusually passive today. When she had stepped forward before to save Charlotte, her gray eyes had burned fiercely—but now, the way she nervously worried her full lips felt suspicious.

“Fine. I’ll consider your request to drink less. What else?”

He laid out the board, inviting her to start on the main topic, but uncharacteristically, Vivianne hesitated. She lowered her gaze, rubbing her thumb against her fingernail, and he had the sudden hunch that whatever she was about to say would be outrageous to hear.

“Vivianne.”

“…I want to make a deal.”

Lifting her head as if she had made up her mind, she spoke. The word deal piqued Edwin’s interest. Realizing her one-sided demands would never work, Vivianne was trying to turn it into a transaction. It was bold enough to spark his curiosity over what she might possibly bring to the table.

“A deal? What kind?”

“Let Charlotte out of prison. Someone like you could manage that much.”

“I think I’ve told you time and again—no matter what you do, my mind won’t change.”

“That’s why… I want to make a deal.”

Edwin scoffed.

Before that dismissive laugh, ripples of doubt flickered in the eyes of the woman who had steeled her resolve.

Deciding there was no need to press her too hard, he jerked his chin for her to go on.

“Let Charlotte out of prison. And then let me meet her. Those are the things I want from you.”

“And what do I get in return?”

No answer came right away. Her gaze stalled again, clouded with hesitation.

Vivianne either had a knack for bargaining, or none at all.

Silence would only raise the other party’s expectations; if she surpassed them, the deal would succeed, but if she fell short, the disappointment would be just as great. This was the moment to see whether what Vivianne was putting on the market would tip Edwin’s heart one way or the other.

“I’ll… give you myself.”

At last, the price she was offering. Upon hearing it, Edwin’s smile quickly faded.

“You’ve wanted me, haven’t you? You said you desired me. I’ll give you the thing you want most—so please, help Charlotte get out of prison… and let me see her.”

Vivianne’s soft voice trembled. It sounded nothing like the resolve of someone willingly sacrificing herself to save Charlotte.

 ────── ✾ ──────

Just before dawn, in the early morning, Gideon discreetly handed the guard a tightly tied pouch and a packet of medicine. The guard—after glancing around—snatched the pouch and quickly hid it.

“You have to be out in five minutes. No longer than that.”

Gideon gave a brief nod and stepped into the prison. Following the damp, suffocating corridor devoid of a single ray of light, he came face-to-face with the prisoners crammed into narrow iron cells. In such miserable conditions, they had become less like humans and more like beasts.

Charlotte’s case, however, was different. The fact that she had been the ward of the Duke of Baytness and was also Gideon’s fiancée meant she was not treated as badly as most. On top of that, Gideon regularly bribed the guards, allowing her to live in far better conditions than the others.

Gideon’s steps stopped before one cell.

Charlotte was sitting in a wooden chair, her back against the cold wall, gazing at the small hole that led outside. Her eyes met Gideon’s, but her gaze quickly drifted away.

“… Why have you come again?”

There was no strength in her voice. Having given up on everything, Charlotte held no expectations for this place, or for what kind of future awaited her.

“Again? Where else would I go when my wife is here?”

“Baron, I…”

In the meantime, Charlotte had grown thin. The sharp light in her gaze was gone, and she looked as though she might collapse at any moment, as if she had been frail from the beginning. Watching her like that made the hand gripping the iron bars seem ready to pull her out of this cruel place right then and there.

“I heard you’ve been complaining of chest pains at night. I’ve given the guard a packet of medicine—it should ease the pain a little.”

“… Do you still send letters to Vivianne?”

“I have to try everything. If nothing else, the Duke would listen to Miss Aveline.”

“You can stop now. I’m already satisfied just knowing Vivianne woke up.”

“But—”

Charlotte turned her back to Gideon, bringing the conversation to an end. Even so, she couldn’t take a single step away from him.

When Gideon realized he had no power to plant hope in someone who had already abandoned life, he felt crushed. Still, he could not give up alongside her—because of the depth of his love for Charlotte.

“No. I’ll keep trying until the end. If Rodinia Manor is overflowing with my letters and he finally says he’ll grant forgiveness, then I’ll keep writing until my arm breaks.”

“…”

“Even if you’ve given up, I won’t. I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you enough. I’m sorrier still that you’re here, Charlotte.”

Charlotte pressed a hand hard against her chest, swallowing down both tears and pain. She held her breath until her head spun, unwilling to let him see her shoulders shake.

She found herself leaning again and again on the hand that stubbornly kept holding on, keeping her from letting go entirely. Time could not be turned back, and so what happened to Vivianne couldn’t be undone. That was what time was—once it passed, no matter how far you reached, you could never grasp it again.

Whenever she stood beside Vivianne and Gideon, she hated the feeling that she was the villain. They were such good people that it made her once-ordinary life feel completely invalidated.

“If you get out of here, I’ll do better. So, Charlotte, will you accept my proposal?”

Even with his warm confession, there was no sign of hope. She knew she would rot here for the rest of her life, just as Edwin wished.

If serving her sentence here could in some way lessen her guilt, Charlotte wanted to do whatever it took. Because in that moment when she had turned her back on Vivianne, she had truly wished for her death. And for that, she deserved to be punished.