CHAPTER 31
The plausible tone of Edwin’s welcoming greeting caused a faint ripple in Vivianne’s eyes. The moment he lowered her gaze to confirm her shabby uniform, she could no longer bring herself to meet Edwin’s tender eyes.
“Didn’t you miss me?”
The question, mingled with a faint chuckle, tickled her ears. It felt as if they had shared a deep affection, and she was searching for the poison hidden behind the sweet traces of the bond they had supposedly formed.
“Ah, well I, um….”
“When someone you despise so much that you want to kill them is out of sight, you start to miss them. That’s why I’m glad to see you, Miss Aveline.”
Her head, which had been hanging low, lifted halfway. Through the gap, Edwin carefully examined her face.
Her pale skin, once radiant, was now slightly tanned by the sunlight. The young lady, raised so delicately, looked worn out from hard labor over the past three weeks. The healthy glow that the sun should have given her seemed instead to accentuate her exhaustion.
“I… I don’t… hate the Duke enough to want to kill you…” she muttered.
Before leaving Rodinia, her cheeks had been fuller, but now they were slightly hollow. When Edwin clicked his tongue, Vivianne finally raised her head.
She fidgeted as if wanting him to notice her scratched and injured hands. The moment Edwin’s gaze landed on them, one hand quickly covered the back of the other. But even then, the scars on the concealed hand didn’t disappear.
Edwin’s cold eyes traced from the back of her hands to her slender arms, then up to her weary, ash-gray pupils, glazed with fatigue. The redness that had once burned on her cheeks like summer berries had long since faded.
Her appearance revealed the path she had walked over the past three weeks.
As she opened her eyes in embarrassment, a heavy hush fell between them.
When his previously bright demeanor turned cold enough to feel uncomfortable, Vivianne felt an urge to cry. Every time his gaze lingered on her uniform, her toes curled involuntarily, and heat rushed back to her cool cheeks.
All she wanted was to flee—to escape to a place where his piercing gaze couldn’t reach her.
“Is the work manageable? I’ve heard you’re doing better than expected.”
A small light flickered in the endless night. Engaging in trivial conversation felt better than enduring his cold, blue gaze; at least it was like breathing in fresh air.
“Thanks to Your Grace, I feel like I’m learning a lot and gaining new insights. I’m truly grateful to be employed as a servant, Your Grace.”
Her bow was as graceful and elegant as ripples on a calm lake. No matter how much she stood there in a servant’s uniform, with her shabby appearance, the noble bloodline she carried could not be erased.
“You’ve likely heard from Abernathy that I’ve left a way open for you to return. If you do, I’ll ensure you can uphold your dignity as a noble.”
His soft voice tried to coax and entice her, yet her firm, gray eyes gleamed even brighter.
“I’ve already erased my dignity, reputation, and past glory as a noble. I have no intention of looking back. I’m going to move forward.”
Her composed sincerity made him smirk.
Aveline seemed to lack the ability to learn. Even though she understood what the other person wanted, deliberately ignoring and avoiding it felt like mockery.
When she showed a will not to be subjugated, it triggered Edwin’s competitive desire to break her.
However, Edwin had no real intention of breaking this innocent woman.
Though Vivianne claimed to have abandoned everything as a noble, even a simple bow carried traces of her aristocratic upbringing. She, who had yet to witness a living hell, still exuded an air of grace that suggested she had the luxury to preserve such things.
Fourteen years ago, if an easy path had been available, Edwin would have gladly chosen it. But his world—a realm shaped by daily battles between life and death—was one Vivianne could never comprehend.
He wished for the lofty Vivianne, who could not even imagine what he had been through, to crumble on her own.
Edwin’s gaze deepened. Beneath the sunlight filtering through the bars, the brighter Vivianne shone, the darker her shadowed face and eyelids appeared, and the clearer the scars on the backs of her hands became.
“Fine. Go ahead. The destination you aim for is all too obvious.”
His lips curved softly with unmistakable sarcasm. Vivianne remained unfazed by this. It was bitter, but that was all. Instead, her dry smile deepened, and her full lips parted.
“Thank you so much. I’ll continue to do my best to repay Your Grace’s debt as quickly as possible.”
Fourteen years ago, Vivianne had vowed never to regret her decisions, even if it meant keeping her promises through death.
So, Edwin wanted to ask her something.
Why didn’t she beg him? Why didn’t she plead for her life? To someone who had accepted death, if he were to tell her to live—if he commanded it—would she fight with everything she had to survive?
However, the questions that rose to the surface of his consciousness crumbled mercilessly in his hands.
Such questions were meaningless. No one would bother asking a living corpse anything.
With a heavy sigh, Charlotte set down the letter from Baron Zimmerman, her eyes gleaming emptily.
After leaving Rodinia, Baron Zimmerman had written to her at least once a week. If the letters had been overly affectionate or filled with declarations of love, they might have been unbearable. Yet, as Edwin and Vivianne had both said, Baron Zimmerman was a good man.
If she became the wife of such a man, she envisioned a future filled with nothing but warmth, comfort, and happiness. But Charlotte lacked the ability, the will, and the desire to shatter the boulder-like emotions she carried.
“Marian, what is the Duke doing right now?”
He had returned after three weeks away from Rodinia. Though she had deliberately avoided meeting him upon his arrival, it seemed he hadn’t even tried to look for her. Feeling endlessly gloomy, Charlotte slumped down, her body drained of energy.
“The moment he returned, he summoned Aveline, and they’re probably together now. Ugh, of all people to charm, she had to charm His Grace? The Duke, who’s like an impregnable fortress! Aveline must not be human. She’s a fox disguised as a person!”
Marian, gradually raising her voice, became visibly furious. Charlotte, too weak to react, could only let out a hollow laugh.
The first person the Duke looked for upon his return to Rodinia was Vivianne Aveline. After spending so much time with Charlotte Windler, it was Vivianne—whom he had known for only a few months—who came first. From this, Charlotte deduced that Vivianne held a special place in Edwin’s heart.
But why had the Duke made Vivianne Aveline a maid?
According to what Marian had heard, Vivianne had been assigned the most grueling and difficult tasks, and her disheveled appearance had nearly erased any trace of her noble lineage.
If Vivianne were truly someone special to Edwin, he would have stopped her, even if she had recklessly insisted on earning her own money. If their relationship was merely defined by a shared debt, and Edwin was simply exploiting Vivianne’s labor because she couldn’t repay him, that would have been unlike him.
Understanding Edwin’s inconsistent and unpredictable actions was no easy task.
Charlotte pressed her throbbing temples, and Marian rushed over to support her. After helping her to bed, Marian began offering soothing words.
What were those two to each other? Why did they keep each other close while treating each other like nothing?
As these questions became clearer in Charlotte’s mind, raw and treacherous emotions began to rise like smoke.
“My lady, don’t worry too much. Aveline won’t be staying at the manor for long, I assure you. All the servants are on your side. Aveline might already be thinking about running away!”
Marian’s giggling laughter filled the air, but Charlotte turned her back to it, watching the drifting specks of dust in the room. Her feelings of disappointment and helplessness resembled a solitary mote of dust, floating aimlessly.
Then, beyond that, her eyes caught sight of the gift box from Vivianne. Her lips pressed tightly together as she suppressed the tears threatening to burst out.
What made her resent Vivianne so much was that she made her feel incredibly small.
Even though Vivianne treated her kindly and comforted her when she had treated her badly, it was that very kindness that made her feel like a pitiful human being. Charlotte had wanted to shame her, to hurt her, but in the end, she was the one who felt ashamed and wounded.
“You wouldn’t know, my lady, just how many entertaining sights there are every day. I’d love to show you, but it’s best not to witness anything too unpleasant. So don’t worry. I’ll make sure your wishes come true.”
The tears Charlotte had tried to hold back trickled down her temples. She didn’t want Marian to notice that she was crying. Forcing her voice to remain steady, she asked Marian to bring her a book from the library.
After Marian left, Charlotte, now alone, fell deeply into the thick silence. She slowly sat up, wiped her wet eyes, and noticed the letter she had left on the table.
Just then, a cool breeze from the highlands swept in, and the letter fell to the floor.
“I hope Miss Windler is happy today as well.”
Charlotte recalled the closing words of the letter from the Baron.
Burying her face in her palms, Charlotte wept bitterly.
Contrary to the Baron’s wish for her happiness, only her misery seemed to accelerate.
“When someone you despise so much that you want to kill them is out of sight, you start to miss them…”
Even if he had deceived her to keep her tied to the manor, choked her, shot her, or gripped her chest painfully, she had never hated him enough to wish for his death.
The past three weeks had been a series of sufferings, leaving her no room to dwell on Edwin’s torment.
But not him. He wouldn’t feel the same.
The outcome of that event 14 years ago was hatred. The endless hatred he felt toward someone he had to kill—and wanted to kill—was the result of what happened back then. To Edwin, just the sight of her face was enough to remind him of those memories—a living testament to the past.
If it were me… If I were in the Duke of Baytness’ position…
Vivianne, walking down the hallway with her legs about to collapse, saw two maids approaching from the other side. Instinctively, she held her breath and hunched her shoulders.
After Edwin left Rodinia, Vivianne officially began taking on maid duties. But at best, her tasks were menial—following experienced servants around or diligently carrying out whatever they assigned her.
Despite her attempts to give them plenty of space, the maids deliberately bumped into her shoulder, laughing harshly. Their subtle yet overt harassment grew bolder with each passing day.
“That’s how it was at first. I was like that too.”
“Life seemed so fresh when I first arrived in Neway and was told I was worthless.”
It was Edwin’s voice that gave her the strength to endure such humiliation. By recalling his expression as he told her old stories, she managed to compose herself and remain resolute. She endured and persevered.
I have to get used to it. This is how you make money.
Vivianne, who had no choice but to stand out among them, was just weak prey. Instead, she became the victim of pure malice—people eager to harm her for their own satisfaction.
“If you find it unbearable, please let me know. Your door is always open, and you can return there anytime.”
The butler, Abernathy, spoke to Vivianne as if he were waiting for her to give up. Even on the days when he handed her wages, he sighed and scolded her, asking if she intended to continue. Despite the weight of his sighs pressing down on her, she always ended the conversation with the same answer—that she could not quit.
Money has the power to make people cry, laugh, and look ridiculous.
Every time she endured the servants’ whispers and every night when the pain, which felt like her whole body being pounded, overtook her, she would reflect on the past and wonder how she had ended up here.
… To a time she could no longer return to, a time that would never come back.
“Fine. Go ahead. The destination you aim for is all too obvious.”
You knew as well.
That the place I was running toward with all my might, abandoning everything, was you, Edwin. That I was taking step after step toward you, standing at the end of the road that stretched out toward death.
