A Snake Entwining Flowers

Thinking about how pale your face must be as you read this letter makes my heart heavy. You might be thinking that you were right, that running away was the right choice.

But I swear, after returning to Ethelwood, Richard has never killed a human to drink their blood. As far as I know, he quenches his thirst with the blood of animals he hunts in the wilderness or the blood Janice brings him.

Charlotte, aside from the dark past of the Kensington family, there is something I must tell you, which is why this letter is so long.

After everything settled, I heard about your situation. I immediately met with the doctor who secretly performed autopsies on Cynthia and Janice’s bodies.

Cynthia died from excessive bleeding caused by a sharp weapon. Janice’s hand showed signs that she had tightly gripped a weapon.

Charlotte, your mother was not attacked by a beast. It was Janice who killed Cynthia.

And Janice’s cause of death was suicide. She slit her own wrists.

Richard is not guilty of any crime. The only thing he didn’t tell you was about his ‘condition.’

The decision is yours to make.

But as his father, I have one request.

If he wakes up, if he survives, please give him just one chance.

All of this is my fault and the result of my sins. You can blame and hate me, but please don’t ruin your life because of it.

I will end this letter here.

I wish you happiness.

—Seymour Arthur Kensington

When she read the last sentence and whispered the recipient’s name, her strength left her. Overwhelming fatigue, sorrow, grief, and anger all mixed together, constricting her heart.

“Richard…”

A teardrop fell from her chin onto the letter, smudging the ink. Clutching the letter tightly, Charlotte bent over, gasping for breath.

Just then, someone knocked on the door.

Knock, knock.

“Charlotte?”

“…Olivia.”

“I heard you got a letter?”

“Oh.”

Olivia’s gaze fell on the letter in Charlotte’s hand.

“What does it say? Who is it from…?”

Seeing Charlotte’s tear-streaked face, Olivia sat beside her, worried.

“It’s nothing.”

“…”

“Just… someone I used to know.”

Wiping her tears with the back of her hand, Charlotte met Olivia’s curious eyes and began tearing the letter into pieces.

No one must know.

Though it wasn’t written, she instinctively knew this story should never be shared.

Before Olivia could stop her, Charlotte threw the shredded pieces into the roaring fireplace. The flames devoured the letter like a beast pouncing on its prey.

“I’m tired. I’ve been knitting all day.”

“Shall I help you to your room?”

“Thank you, I would appreciate that.”

With Olivia’s support, Charlotte stood up and paused at the door.

“…Charlotte?”

Her gaze lingered on the spot where the letter had been consumed by the flames, now nothing but ashes.

“Did you forget something?”

“No.”

Charlotte shook her head and smiled.

“It’s nothing.”

Her smile was much lighter than before. Olivia, puzzled, returned the smile as she opened the door.

“M-Madam…! Miss!”

The maid who had delivered the letter came running, her face pale with fear.

“What’s the matter?”

“Mr. Winkle…!”

The air seemed to stop. Her heart, which had been beating slowly, began to race.

“Charlotte!”

Summoning all her strength, Charlotte lifted her dress and rushed up the stairs. She could barely hear Olivia and the maid calling after her.

“…Huff, huff…”

She reached the bedroom door, breathless, and with trembling hands, she turned the doorknob.

“……”

The door opened silently. Bathed in the warm spring sunlight, he was there. Leaning against the headboard, basking in the light.

His gleaming auburn hair, amethyst-like purple eyes. The long neck and the collarbone visible through his disheveled nightgown.

“Richard…”

Gasping for breath, Charlotte took one step at a time towards him. He turned his head slowly towards her.

Very slowly.

“I’m back.”

He greeted her as if he had just stepped out for the day and returned in the evening.

“…Welcome back.”

She replied with a bright smile.

After a long winter, it was finally spring.

***

To Earl Seymour Arthur Kensington,

A belated greeting to you. Spring is here, and everything is coming back to life. I hope you have been well.

I received your letter. Although it was a surprise to see no sender’s name, as I read through it, I could feel the depth of your thoughts and concerns, and I am grateful for that.

You may have already heard the news.

Richard woke up a while ago. The doctor called it a miracle.

The major cause was not the gunshot wound but the severe head injury he sustained when he fell. The impact on his brain was significant, and there was a high chance he would never wake up again. He could have died after a few years in that state.

But he came back, against all odds.

Though he is not fully recovered and is still undergoing rehabilitation, he is improving day by day. Yesterday, we walked in the garden together. We watched butterflies flutter among the blooming flowers.

Some might say…

“How can you live with the son of the woman who killed your mother?”

Earl, I am now six months pregnant.

How can I describe the indescribable feeling I had when I found out I was expecting? It was terrifying and overwhelming, but at the same time, I felt like I had someone who would always be on my side.

The world seemed both frightening and not so scary, as if I could do nothing and yet everything at the same time.

Janice probably felt the same way.

I think I can understand a little of what she felt when she came to Mistymoor Hall with her swollen belly.

To Janice, Richard was her last hope and her everything. He was a treasure worth giving everything for. That’s why she clung to him and went to such extremes.

I’m not talking about forgiveness. Who can truly forgive whom? I haven’t even forgiven myself. And I am neither a saint nor an angel. I get jealous and sometimes have malicious thoughts.

When I think of my mother, I still feel hatred. I hope Janice is in hell, suffering for her sins.

But, aside from that, I understand her. As a human to another human, as a mother to another mother.

To repay you for the courage it took to tell me the truth, I must say that I believe a tragic fate tied the three of you to a wheel of suffering.

The Earl, Janice, and Richard were all both perpetrators and victims to one another.

I was able to come to this conclusion thanks to your long letter. I am grateful for it, even if belatedly, through this letter.

Earl, we have decided not to go to Ethelwood or Katia. We plan to build a home and settle here on Cardel Island.

We want to find ways to atone for and rectify the wrongs committed by Ethelwood, even if just a little.

I know you might be worried. The rebel forces are still at large, and we don’t know the whereabouts of their leaders, making this situation potentially dangerous.

But I realized something as I held him that night, as he grew cold.

I decided not to fear them anymore. By understanding and accepting their perspective, I no longer find them frightening or repulsive.

Understanding might be the greatest form of love one human can give another.

So I have chosen to understand them, and Richard from that night as well.

Richard and I are gradually dismantling the exploitative structures that pillaged the island’s resources and oppressed its people. We are using our funds to improve welfare, refurbish the orphanage, build schools, and start charitable endeavors.

Although he still seems uneasy about our actions, he is supporting me a lot more than before. His temperament has softened considerably.

As for the matter of blood drinking you were concerned about… I have encouraged him to replenish as he used to.

Honestly, it scares me a bit. Drinking fresh blood is not exactly a pleasant thought. But more than anything, I want him to stay with me for a long time.

We are researching extensively and looking for others like him. We hope to eventually find a solution that everyone can accept. We will keep trying and never give up.

As I write this letter, I can hear his footsteps coming to the bedroom after talking with the secretary.

I should wrap this up now.

I will write again once the baby is born.

Until then.

—Charlotte Winkle

P.S.

Lastly, along with the news of my pregnancy, I have another piece of good news to share.

We have decided to adopt a child named Deon from the orphanage.

He is a very kind, smart, and lovely boy.

I hope you can meet him someday, along with our baby.

<A Snake Entwining Flowers — The End>

 

 

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T/N: If you’ve read up to this point, I sincerely thank you for the time you took reading this novel. I had a good time knowing about Charlotte and Richard’s story, although sometimes Richard makes me scared. He’s just so unpredictable! Haha. If you wish to support, please consider leaving a review on NU. I don’t know why so many people rated it as 1-star, perhaps R18 scenes with lots of alluding to animalistic characters are not their cup of tea :”) Anyway, that’s all from me. If you want to read my other ongoing works, feel free to check out Limits of Paradise and Enemies Meet in an Arranged Marriage. Until then!