CHAPTER 10
Vivianne awoke from a vivid dream in the early morning hours. She swung her feet out of bed and walked to the window, pulling open the heavy curtains.
A faint blue light spread across the horizon. The desolate sight of the dawn, dead in its solitude, penetrated her heart deeply and settled there as if it belonged there.
Then Vivianne dressed herself. And as she quietly left the room, the bluish light had receded a little more. Instead, a faint golden hue filtered through the windows and illuminated the hallway. As she reached the stairs leading to the lobby, the household staff were busy preparing for the morning.
Hearing footsteps behind her, she turned her head and saw Charlotte standing there with Marian, looking startled as she glanced in Vivianne’s direction.
“… Oh, Miss Windler. Good morning.”
It wasn’t just Vivianne who was caught off guard. As Vivianne hurriedly greeted her formally, Charlotte returned the gesture with equal politeness.
“You’re up early. Couldn’t you sleep anymore?”
“I couldn’t sleep. I thought I’d take a walk in the garden while no one was around, but mornings come early at the manor.”
Vivianne wasn’t the owner of this place, nor was she an official guest. She didn’t dare to boldly use the garden while everyone in the manor was watching.
“I also woke up early and thought I might go for a morning walk. Shall we go together?”
Missing the chance to refuse Charlotte’s quiet smile, Vivianne had no choice but to follow her. As they stepped outside, the morning sun began to peek over the horizon.
As they made their way along the paving stones of the garden, a cluster of yellow daffodils was the first thing they noticed. Dew shimmered on the bright yellow petals. Charlotte knelt before the bright daffodils and gently stroked the wet petals.
“The Duke asked the gardener to plant daffodils last evening, and it seems the gardener planted them in the meantime. Aren’t they beautiful?”
Though Charlotte always seemed to know how to handle things with care, she mercilessly snapped one of the daffodils. Then she handed the plucked flower to Vivianne.
“Even if it’s not a gift, please think of it as a gesture of respect for the previous owner who once tended to this place.”
“… Thank you.”
Vivianne, unable to refuse, looked at the sullen daffodil with pity.
“It hasn’t been long since I started living here, but life has returned to the place, hasn’t it? When I first saw it, I was so shocked I nearly fainted. It looked like a graveyard.”
It was a careless comment, but one that scraped at Vivianne’s heart. She knew it wasn’t intentional, so she tried to calm herself, suppressing the hurt.
“Looking at how beautiful the manor has become, I often imagine what it must have been like when Lord Aveline was here. I’m sure it must have been even more beautiful then.”
Vivianne smiled bitterly as she thought of her father.
“My father loved the garden here more than the one at Preston’s. Sometimes, he would even tend to the garden himself, planting flowers. This garden bears many traces of his hands.”
“I’ve heard a lot about him. People say he willingly gave up his title. I heard about the Avelines several times in the capital.”
Vivianne’s tense expression began to brighten little by little. It was comforting to hear others speak so kindly of her beloved father. With a warm smile, she was able to put aside the painful wounds for a moment.
“Miss Aveline, you must have many worries, but please don’t worry too much. Until your mother returns, the Duke will be your protector.”
The pleasant atmosphere was shattered by the sudden mention of the Duke.
She remembered the ridiculous joke he had made last night, one she could hardly believe.
Vivianne doubted Edwin’s intentions and wondered how Edwin could expect anyone to believe such a thing, especially with that serious look in his eyes.
Who would fall for such a joke? Who would believe such words?
“Even though you aren’t the owner of the manor anymore, don’t feel uncomfortable about walking in the garden or going around the manor. The Duke and I aren’t narrow-minded enough to criticize you for such things.”
“Thank you for your warm hospitality.”
“By the way, I see you’re not wearing your scarf. Weren’t you wearing it all the time recently?”
“Oh, that… yes. I don’t think I need it anymore.”
“If it’s alright with you, would you leave your scarf with me?”
“My scarf?”
Vivianne’s hand instinctively touched her bare neck.
After telling Edwin that his joke had gone too far, Vivianne hurried back to her room and only then realized—she had forgotten the scarf. The scarf, which hadn’t been particularly important, had slipped from her mind along with the Duke’s mischievous teasing.
“The last time I saw you wearing it, it suited you so well, but it felt like something was missing. I wanted to embroider it for you. I’d like to leave it as a token of my respect for you, Miss Aveline.”
Vivianne debated whether to lie and say she had lost the scarf. But why reject her kind offer when it was such a simple matter to retrieve the scarf from the Duke?
“Yes. Then, thank you for your kindness.”
Charlotte, who had been glancing at Vivianne with her face buried in the daffodils, was the first to start walking again. Last night, Edwin had hurt her deeply by using marriage as a weapon.
That wound had kept her from sleeping, and it was purely by chance that she saw Vivianne entering Edwin’s room. When Vivianne finally appeared much later, the scarf around her neck was missing.
Now that she thought about it, it was strange. The ascot tie in Vivianne’s room looked remarkably similar to the one the Duke often wore.
Though Vivianne claimed it was a gift, Charlotte was certain it was Edwin’s, especially because Vivianne’s scarf had ended up in Edwin’s room.
“Hmmm… Miss Windler.”
Vivianne, who had been walking quickly to close the gap between them, spoke up in a cheerful voice as if she was trying to hide her fear.
“I’m not sure if I should ask something like this… I mean, I know it’s ridiculous. It doesn’t make any sense, but…”
The long, desperate rambling made Charlotte frown. Her heart was pounding so hard that Vivianne thought it might burst, leaving her feeling dizzy.
“Is it possible that the Duke… eats people? Oh, I know it’s not true, of course. No, no. That’s such a ridiculous thing to say, I’m sorry. Please forget I mentioned it. There’s no way the Duke would do something like that.”
Her awkward laughter made her feel as if a thin thread inside her had suddenly snapped.
“So, are you afraid?”
“… What?”
Charlotte stopped walking and gently clasped Vivianne’s hand, which was holding the daffodil.
“If the Duke really does eat people, would you be afraid of him?”
Vivianne’s eyes trembled nervously. Her lips moved as if she couldn’t find the right words.
“I don’t know who told you that, but it’s a secret only known to the family, so I hope you’ll keep quiet.”
If I act with innocent eyes, this kind of joke might work. Then, she’ll avoid him—the man I love—out of fear.
Charlotte fanned the flames of Vivianne’s unease as she imagined her running away from Edwin.
“You haven’t told anyone else about this, right? I hope not. Rumors spread quickly, and I really don’t want to know tonight’s menu in advance.”
Who could have come up with such a childish prank? Did they really think that naive, foolish Vivianne Eveline would believe such a lousy lie?
Charlotte laughed and turned around. There were no footsteps following her. She wanted to look back but decided to take a few more steps—just enough to express that she didn’t understand why Vivianne was acting this way. Only then did she turn to look at Vivianne.
Why aren’t you coming? Her eyes asked, as innocent as Vivianne’s.
That evening, Vivianne dipped her pen into the ink and placed the nib on the crisp sheet of paper in front of her, only to lift it back up.
Her eyes darted back and forth as if she was lost in thought, then she readjusted her grip on the pen and slowly began to write.
╔═
To Mr. Shaffer,
How have you been? I am doing well. Life here is very comfortable. Just as you mentioned, the Duke of Baytness is a very good person. I am staying with the young lady under his guardianship, and they make me feel so at ease that I sometimes forget I am merely a guest.
But, Mr. Shaffer, I wanted to ask you something, just out of curiosity. There is a rumor that the Duke of Baytness eats people…
═╝
She stopped writing, lingering on the period. It was something she hadn’t intended to include in the letter, but she had already written the line.
She read the sentence she had unconsciously written.
“Miss Windler and the others—why are they all being so mischievous? Did they really think I’d believe it? Such a childish prank.”
Vivianne wasn’t naive enough to be fooled by the Duke of Baytness’ joke about eating her, and she wasn’t too frightened by Miss Windler’s part in playing along, either. Vivianne crumpled up the letter and took out a fresh sheet of paper, laying it neatly on the desk.
╔═
To Mr. Shaffer,
It’s Vivianne. How are you these days? Contrary to your worries, I am doing quite well here. I still remember the look on your face when you praised the Duke of Baytness, and I believe you were absolutely right. The Duke has been very kind to me, and I am living here comfortably, day by day.
I do have one question, though. Besides all the good rumors about the Duke, are there any other rumors about him? Like, he eats people…
═╝
The soft scratching of the pen on the paper stopped. Vivianne’s eyes wavered as she stared at the words she had just written.
Vivianne put the pen down, got up from her seat, and walked over to the window.
Feeling suffocated, she opened the window. A breeze, carrying the temperature somewhere between the lingering warmth of the day and the cool chill of the night, blew in. Then, she felt her mind begin to clear.
Yes, I’ll write to Mr. Shaffer later. For now, I’ll write to my parents.
Vivianne moved swiftly away from the window and sat back down.
It was just a cruel joke from the Duke. How could a person eat another person? It was a lie, a result of Duke Baytness and Miss Windler’s conspiracy.
╔═
Dear Father,
Are you reading my letters? If so, please be sure to write back. I am doing well. As for you, Father…
═╝
Muttering quietly to herself, Vivianne quickly filled up a page. She couldn’t bring herself to write that Sayer had become the new owner of the manor. Instead, she wrote that he could take as long as he needed to get back and that she hoped he was in good health. And at the very end, she made sure to write this:
I really miss you so much. I love you, Father.
It was a heartfelt letter to her father.
Edwin woke up a little earlier than usual and rang the bell to summon a servant. After a light bath, his day began with a simple breakfast and a newspaper laid out on the table.
The butler placed the most important letter, one from the Royal Family, on top of the stack of mail that had arrived and recited the day’s main agenda. Nodding approvingly, Edwin dismissed the butler and continued with his usual morning routine.
“Your Grace.”
It had been an ordinary morning until Roarke arrived.
“What brings you here so early?”
“A letter was found in Miss Aveline’s room, unsent.”
The mention of Aveline was as sweet to him as his morning coffee. And an unsent letter? It was a combination that made him curious.
Vivianne Aveline usually wrote letters when she was bored, addressing them to four main places: her mother Monica Aveline’s side of the family in Preston; Anthony Shaffer, who lived in the South; Theo Evans’ tailor shop; and the Central Post Office, where her father Lawrence Aveline had last been seen.
Ah, there was one more.
She sometimes wrote to Maria, the maid who had stayed by her side, but had eventually fled, taking all the remaining money with her.
“And among the letters that arrived today, we found one addressed to Maria, so I set it aside separately.”
With a gesture as if smoothing out two crumpled sheets of paper, Roarke handed Edwin the unsent letter along with the newly arrived one.
Edwin ran his fingers over the perfectly neat handwriting, reading through the brief letter. On both sheets, Vivianne had begun to ask about his cannibalism, only to crumple the letters before she could finish.
He had tried to tease her by making her laugh, but once again she was terrified.
Vivianne, with a stiff expression on her face, denied believing in such jokes, claiming that the joke was too much. Then she got angry and disappeared. But this unexpected reaction amused him.
Had he known that she would naively ask about such things, he would have told her last night that today’s breakfast menu was her.
Would she have spent the night wide awake, worrying about when she would be slaughtered?
Vivianne must have been at a crossroads, her ashen, lifeless eyes darting back and forth in the darkness, anxiously biting her plump red lips that were her only redeeming feature.
Did she lie down, sit down, stand up again, leave the room, pace the hallway, or even find a way to leave the manor?
Edwin folded the two crumpled letters and placed them on the table.
“Shall we leave it just like this?”
“If I don’t leave it like this, what else can I do? Should I really eat Vivianne?”
“No, Your Grace.”
Smiling, Edwin looked back and forth at the envelope addressed to Maria.
The sender was Juliette Pauquet, and the handwriting on the name was quite unfamiliar.
If you act with such sincerity and meticulousness, I want to be fooled too.
Edwin smirked and used a letter opener to cut the envelope cleanly.
At this point, with her unnecessary actions and scheming, it would be polite to just play along.
He pulled out the contents and read the first line.
“To my beloved daughter.”
He skimmed the letter. It was a repetition of the same content he had seen many times before.
╔═
Are you doing well? Is everything okay? I’m doing fine. Are you eating well? Are you sick anywhere? Just wait a little longer. And so on—the tedious repetition of trivial, uninteresting words.
═╝
And at the end, always the same closing:
“From the father who loves you the most.”
Edwin closed the letter and handed it to Roarke.
Familiar with the routine, Roarke handed him a match. Without hesitation, Edwin struck the match head mercilessly against the box.
As the flames began to consume the edges of the letter, the dull words that had bored him soon turned into a small pile of ashes.
There was no trace of guilt on Edwin’s face as he dusted off his now-soiled hands.
He recalled the bold words Vivianne had said the previous night.
“So I’m sorry, but I can’t keep my promise to feel regret.”
Hmmm… is this really going to work out the way you want it?
He was really curious.
