Chapter 89
“Sorry, I’m sorry… I won’t do it again… I won’t make any more mistakes. I won’t talk back. I won’t frown anymore. I’ll do everything I’m told. I’m sorry… I’m so sorry…”
The only thing breaking the silence in the empty, dark room was a faint sobbing sound.
In the thick, oppressive darkness of the room, there was nothing.
Nothing but a small child curled up in the center of the wide, empty space.
And the sound of the child’s sobbing, her lips swollen, and wounds all over her scratched body.
Even though the room was vast and empty, the way the child huddled up tightly, curling into herself, was pitiful and heartbreaking.
But there was no one there to protect the child.
‘Fiorette, my daughter. Now that you’ve been born into this family, you no longer belong to the Bairon family but to the Bozebourne family.’
The only lesson the child had learned since the day she was born was how to submit.
The child’s parents, who should’ve been a shelter and a source of comfort, didn’t offer her any refuge.
The child had to be perfect.
They couldn’t make any mistakes.
The child had to be smart.
They couldn’t fail to understand what they were told to do.
The child had to be quick-witted.
So that the master wouldn’t have to bother speaking.
The child had lived her entire life with everything taken away from her by the Bozebourne, believing that this was the purpose of her existence.
The idea of escape or rebellion was unimaginable.
The thick darkness was like a swamp she could never escape from—a bottomless abyss.
Who could save her?
‘Wounds on the outside heal if you apply medicine. Illness inside heals if you take medicine. So, what can heal you?’
The child, who no one had ever cared for, slowly raised her head.
At some point, light had begun to creep into the room that had always been shrouded in darkness.
Through her eyes, which couldn’t distinguish anything, she saw a door that had opened.
The child stood up.
With legs so thin from three days of starvation, the child staggered toward the door.
Her small, frail hand slowly pushed the slightly open door.
Bright light touched the face that had been shadowed by darkness, and the despair that had been hiding in the shadows scattered.
[Where are you going?]
But at that moment, the door closed again, and a voice echoed from behind the child.
A fear etched into her body, mind, and heart.
A hand stroked the child’s stiffened neck and head.
[You can never escape from me. Never.]
With a voice whispering in their ear, the despair crept back in, consuming the shadows.
[So don’t struggle, Fiorette. You will always be mine.]
With the voice filling her ears, the child slowly opened her eyes.
The darkness disappeared, and the light seeped in.
Once again, an inescapable reality welcomed Fiorette.
“Miss?”
Fiorette awoke from her dream at the sound of someone calling her name.
A maid was offering her a handkerchief, her eyes filled with concern.
Only then did Fiorette realize that her forehead and neck were soaked in sweat.
She refused the maid’s handkerchief and instead asked her to bring some water for washing as she rose from her spot.
As she shuffled back to her room, the maid who had spoken to her earlier approached her as she headed outside.
“Miss Fiorette, the viscount has returned.”
“…Father?”
Since the incident at last week’s engagement party, no day has passed peacefully for the Bozebourne retainers.
They had to bear the brunt of Gillard’s anger every day, and the Bairon family was constantly mentioned above everyone.
Fiorette recalled that her father had been away for four days.
“Where is my father now?”
“He’s in his study… but, oh, wait a moment. The viscount said not to let anyone in. He included you in that, too.”
Knowing her father’s habit of locking himself in his study whenever things were difficult, Fiorette quietly nodded.
The maid hesitated, her lips twitching as if she wasn’t sure whether to speak.
Fiorette stared at the maid, then spoke.
“If you’ve got something to say, just say it. Don’t beat around the bush.”
“…I’m not sure if it’s my place to say this, but when I was helping the viscount change, I noticed a large wound on his back. It looked like a long scar from something, and it didn’t seem too old. So…”
The maid was speaking cautiously, but seeing Fiorette’s expression harden, she quickly stopped and began apologizing repeatedly in a fluster.
Fiorette watched the maid bow her head over and over, her brow furrowing.
‘It’s all your fault, Fiorette. This all happened because you received help from Sierra in Genoa and couldn’t shoot her in the forest. It’s all your fault, and the Bairon family has to pay the price for it.’
‘…It’s all my fault.’
Fiorette let out a long breath.
Her tightly closed lips slowly parted.
“I’m going to send a letter to Lady Bellieta, so prepare the fastest messenger.”
“Huh? Oh, yes… understood.”
Before she could fully process the maid’s reply, Fiorette was already on the move.
Her face as she walked back to her room looked resolute, as if she had made up her mind about something.
“There’s no turning back now. Not anymore…”
Fiorette’s heavy footsteps echoed hollowly through the empty hallway.
***
With a rustling sound, papers slid off the desk and fell to the floor.
Aden, watching with a bored expression, slowly opened his mouth.
“What was I even expecting?”
His voice, tinged with self-mockery, made me glance up.
Aden, who rarely showed his feelings, was staring at the papers with a somewhat indifferent expression, flipping through them absentmindedly.
…Sorry about that.
I didn’t mean for you to misunderstand.
Looking back, I had no right to be upset if Aden had misunderstood.
I had something really important related to Rippleton that I needed to discuss privately.
I thought I needed to confirm something with Aden since I wasn’t sure.
But since I didn’t have all the materials gathered and it seemed like I’d be stuck working late, I just asked him to give me some time then.
I hadn’t expected that to be misunderstood as an invitation to spend the night together.
‘…How would I know that, though?’
Honestly, I couldn’t remember if anyone had ever had feelings for me like that before.
Layton was trash, and before that, I hadn’t been interested in men at all.”
Plus, with Bellieta always around, there was no way I’d catch anyone’s attention.
Plus, with all the studying and work I had to do, why would I even care about guys?
Of course, I lived my life only trusting myself.
So Layton’s betrayal hurt me even more and made me furious.
I realized my thoughts were going off track, so I quickly shut them down.
No need to dwell on useless thoughts.
The past is the past. What matters now is what’s right in front of me—Aden.
A misunderstanding is a misunderstanding, and it was my fault for causing it.
I let out a small sigh and stood up.
Aden’s gaze followed my movement.
“…”
“…”
…What am I supposed to do now? I stood up, but now that I’m up, I have no idea what to do.
And those eyes.
Those eyes that look indifferent but somehow expectant make me feel like I should meet those expectations.
I stared at Aden, caught in a quiet staring contest.
The longer we stood there, the more awkward it became.
Was it always this awkward when I was alone with Aden?
My mind kept drifting to the weirdest things.
The air felt so awkward and uncomfortable, and for some reason, all I could think about was why monkey butts are red—stupid, random thoughts like that filled my head.
“…Do you want to go for a walk?”
Eventually, I couldn’t take the awkwardness anymore, so I forced a smile, pointed out the window, and suggested we take a walk.
Ironically, it had started to rain just a little while ago, and the autumn rain was now tapping on the window.
Aden glanced at the window I pointed to, then looked back at me.
“…”
An awkward silence filled the room again.
…Nothing’s going my way today.
I let out another small sigh and walked over to where Aden was sitting, grabbed his arm, and pulled him up.
Aden, who quietly let me pull him up, followed me as I led him out of the office.
“Where exactly are we going?”
“Just follow me.”
It was late at night, and everyone else had already gone to bed.
We walked through the silent hallways, and when I opened the back door of the mansion, a chilly breeze brushed past us.
I checked how much it was raining, then pointed toward a dark area with my finger.
“Over there.”
“You’re planning to go there in the rain? Shouldn’t we at least grab an umbrella?”
“It’s close. Hurry!”
I covered my head with my coat and ran off in the other direction.
I heard his confused voice behind me, but soon enough, I heard his footsteps matching mine.
We made it to the nearby greenhouse and quickly went inside.
The dark greenhouse was filled with nothing but the sound of raindrops.
Shhh, tap, tap
Listening to the refreshing sound that echoed in my ears, I made my way to the center, which I knew well.
“Why did we come here? It’s dark, so you won’t be able to see anything.”
“You’ll be able to see it soon.”
Clap clap
As I clapped my hands lightly, the walls of the greenhouse seemed to glimmer for a moment, and then suddenly, the entire space was bathed in golden light.
Aden’s expression, usually so unreadable, showed clear surprise as he took in the scene.
He quickly tried to control his expression when he noticed me looking at him.
“Amazing, right? My grandfather built this greenhouse as a gift for my grandmother, who loved flowers, so she could enjoy them even at night while drinking tea.”
Beautiful light and gentle sounds surrounded us.
Flowers glowing in the soft light, and butterflies flitting above them.
This greenhouse was a testament to the love someone had for another.
“You know, a lot of people have seen this greenhouse, but no one’s ever seen it glowing at night. You can’t see it from the outside.”
“Interesting. Is it… magic?”
“Probably, yeah.”
When I touched the glowing wall, I could feel a warm heat.
Even though I was close, it didn’t hurt my eyes, and when I touched it, it wasn’t hot.
“You couldn’t see it from the outside, and whether it was nighttime, cold winter, or rainy days, you could still enjoy the flowers.”
“You can tell how much my grandfather loved my grandmother just by looking at this greenhouse. Everything that started with this wall was made with her in mind.”
I wanted to be like that, too.
I wanted to be someone who could pour everything into one person, like these warm walls.
I believed that if I could become a person like that, I could have beautiful love too.
But my choices had been wrong, and in the end, all I was left with were painful scars.
If someone asked me if I was scared to meet new people, I’d say yes. I was scared.
Was I asking for too much?
Like the warmth I felt at my fingertips, all I wanted was to be someone who could give that warmth to someone else.
“Can I… be that kind of person too?”
