CHAPTER 21
Edwin looked down at his palm. The lingering sensation had dulled, leaving behind only a faint numbness—not that there had been much to begin with. The feeling of holding Vivianne’s body had faded like that. A body that could never be a woman to him could not stir any desire in him.
Even though he had known about it all along, Edwin had wanted confirmation. Just as Theo Evans had suggested, he wanted to know if he could feel even the slightest trace of lust for Vivianne Aveline. Now, he was certain. No part of him desired to lie with Vivianne Aveline.
To him, she was nothing more than the product of a promise born of revenge, not someone capable of igniting even the most trivial passion. She was meant to serve as the endpoint to a long and arduous journey—at the right time, in the most perfect way.
To Edwin Baytness, the existence of Vivianne Aveline was just that.
And so, the memory of holding her body, the sight of her green dress hem fluttering as she turned to hide, or the way her wide, round gray eyes gazed up at him as she touched the crown of her head—all of it faded like a mist dissipating in the morning sun.
Heading to the study, Edwin opened Gilbert Totten’s Land Economics, a book he had borrowed from the library. As he became absorbed in the printed words, the sky gradually filled with a shade somewhere between black and blue. He didn’t even notice when the servants lit the lanterns to ward off the creeping darkness.
He did, however, remember dismissing Abernathy, the butler, when he came to inquire about dinner.
‘Tonight must have been comfortable,’ he thought, swallowing a foolish remark meant for someone else. Without realizing it, a faint chuckle escaped his lips.
Edwin closed the book and rubbed his tired eyes. He requested a servant bring the whiskey gifted by Baron Zimmermann and opened the window. A damp, sticky breeze, carrying a hint of moisture, quickly filled the room.
The full moon peeked over the dark, cloudless horizon. Soon, it would rise high, bathing the world in its clear light. Tonight was a night when Edwin wanted to immerse himself in trifling things, as meaningless as Vivianne.
A suitable place to indulge in such a mood came to mind. Ringing the bell to summon a servant, he instructed them to take the remaining whiskey and Land Economics to the lakeshore behind the manor.
Then, glancing again at the now higher full moon, he noticed its pristine light bore an uncanny resemblance to the sun.
Vivianne, who had been writing a letter under the fading embers of the fire, frowned as if she could no longer bear it. She tried adjusting her grip on the pen, but no more words came to mind. Frustrated, she lightly clenched her fist and struck it against her chest.
Why do I feel like this?
If she traced the reason back, the lump in her chest had started with yesterday’s events and had gradually grown larger. Being held by the Duke and insulted by Charlotte had left bitter wounds, but there was no room to dwell on them.
She had to reach death quickly to escape her cruel fate. She had to pay the price for the promise she had made to Sayer fourteen years ago and to dispel the storm cloud hanging over House Aveline.
There was no time to despair over having been caught by mere flesh or insulted by words that weren’t true.
That was why she had deliberately attended today’s luncheon and eaten with such ostentation. To gain the weight the savage and cruel Duke desired, she had stuffed her mouth full, chewed, and swallowed.
Ironically—and most miserably—the more she forced herself to eat, the more her appetite grew. She had to eat what she didn’t want, yet the more food she put into her mouth, the more the taste on her tongue became appetizing. The more she ate, the more distinct the lump inside her became.
Vivianne took a deep breath, clutching her chest, and resumed writing her letter.
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And Father, if you’re thinking of returning here because of me, please don’t. With the help of the townsfolk, I’ve married a good man. He’s wealthy and lives in a coastal city in the West called Thornhook. I plan to leave for there. He’s such a good person, and every day is full of happiness…
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A lie. It was a flat-out lie.
The letter, full of lies, became a mirror reflecting her pitiful self. The lump in her chest roared silently, and her body burned to the point where she struggled to breathe.
In the end, Vivianne rose from her seat without finishing the letter and stood in front of the wide-open window. She hoped the cool breeze might calm her symptoms, but contrary to her expectations, the damp, warm wind only deepened her melancholy.
Late at night, the sky with its full moon was strikingly bright. The land was bathed in white light, as though another sun had risen, blurring the line between night and day.
To some, the white light might serve as a guide through an endless night, while to others, it pierced their hearts with the pain of loneliness.
The brilliant glow of the full moon would never reach her. And likely never would again.
Once more, her consciousness began to drift. As her mind grew hazy, detaching from her body, Vivianne could no longer endure it and collapsed to the ground.
In a desperate frustration that felt like it might drive her mad, she crouched and pounded her chest hard.
Harder, until bruises formed, until her ribs cracked…
At the moment when the absurd thought crossed her mind—that she would rather die by her own hand than at the Duke’s—an unexpected image of Edwin’s soft, pale blue eyes came to her. Strangely, they offered a fleeting sense of release.
“Lake… Lannoy.”
She recalled discovering Lake Lannoy soon after moving to Neway. Vivianne had accidentally taken a side road while memorizing the paths around the manor. The lake’s mysterious colors had instantly captivated her, and upon returning, she had informed her father of her discovery.
Thanks to her father’s absurd request to give her the lake as a birthday present, the area around the lake was closed to everyone. Thus, the lake became entirely hers.
Now that the manor had changed hands, it was unlikely anyone else even knew of the lake’s existence.
Once this thought struck her, Vivianne hesitated no longer. Springing away from the window, she grabbed a shawl and a towel before stepping out of her room.
The manor, late at night, was eerily quiet late at night as if not a single mouse was around. She exited through the back door connected to the kitchen. Following the path through the darkness, she frequently glanced over her shoulder. After confirming several times that no one was around, she walked a while longer before stepping, without hesitation, into the dense greenery.
How much time had passed? As the bushes began to thin, Vivianne quickened her pace, and the moonlight grew clearer.
The cool sound of water rippling in the wind reached her ears. The shadows that had obscured everything vanished and the view of the lake, shimmering in the moonlight, appeared before her.
Her mind, which had been struggling to hold on at the edge of consciousness, finally gave way, slipping into a dreamlike state.
Beneath the moonlight, surrounded by the gentle ripples of water and shielded by the dense trees that swept away all the noise of the world, she felt, for a brief moment, like the princess of a kingdom.
A lie.
Her world, once suffocating and filled with ashen smoke, was suddenly vibrant with beauty. White light, blue water, green trees, red fruits. This place was a fairytale, a reality, and a dream all at once.
She could no longer tell which life was real and which was fake.
As she stood at the dock, the smell of the water grew stronger, and the lake’s soft murmurs became clearer. Looking down at her reflection on the lake’s surface, she watched as a gentle breeze caused ripples to spread across the water.
Vivianne, crouching down, put her hand into the lake, disturbing the surface.
The water felt as cold as Edwin’s icy eyes. She flinched, startled by the memory of those blue eyes, and quickly looked around.
The surroundings were silent; everything was still.
Relieved, Vivianne neatly placed the towel and shawl beside her. Then, without hesitation, she began to undress.
After folding her nightclothes neatly, she sat at the edge of the dock and dipped her feet into the water. With a soft splashing sound, her body shivered, and every hair on her skin stood on end.
The icy cold, almost enough to make her mind blank, reminded her of him again.
Leaning forward, Vivianne scooped up the lake water with one hand and slowly poured it over her calves, thighs, stomach, and chest. As she became accustomed to the cold temperature, she lowered her body into the lake, inch by inch.
She pushed on, sinking deeper until the water reached her neck, then her head, stubbornly immersing herself in the lake’s embrace until the chill faded.
And just as her breath reached its limit—
“Pwah!”
She burst back to the surface, gasping for air. The piercing sensation in her head cleared, and the heat of the lump burning inside her chest cooled.
Feeling somewhat relieved, Vivianne’s complexion brightened, and she submerged her head once more.
This time, she swam freely. Using the full moon reflected on the water as her guide, she circled it, occasionally splashing playfully as she surfaced.
Yet, she often paused to simply gaze at the moon—a radiant orb glowing like the sun, blurring the line between day and night.
It felt, almost as if by some miracle, that the sun was speaking to her. As she strained her ears to listen, she realized it wasn’t words, but a song. The sun was humming a solemn tune, breaking the stillness of the night.
The gentle, soothing melody caressed Vivianne’s head like a soft, warm touch.
“Lies…”
Tears welled up suddenly, tightening her throat. The lump in her chest writhed, climbing up her throat. Her breathing quickened, and a hot sensation burned in her eyes. Soon, the emotions that had festered in her chest burst out of her mouth along with tears.
Under the tall trees surrounding the lake, the lantern, the book, and the whiskey given by the baron were trifles meant to pass the night.
If not for Vivianne Aveline, appearing out of the dark in her pure white nightclothes, those trifles might have been the main characters of the evening.
Unaware of the lit lantern nearby, Vivianne stopped at the dilapidated dock, where an old, rotting rowboat was tied. Curious about her intentions, Edwin quietly extinguished his lantern.
Vivianne dipped her hand into the lake but quickly pulled it out, startled by the cold. Then, perhaps sensing a presence, she glanced around her surroundings.
Finding nothing, she let out a sigh of relief and began undressing. She set her shawl and towel aside, willingly discarding the nightclothes she had worn.
Under the full moon’s glow, her skin appeared almost unnaturally pale, though it was half-shielded by her loose, golden hair.
Her body, once all skin and bones, had gained some weight, and the shape of a woman, once thought unrecognizable, was now clearly visible.
From her shoulders and chest, down to her slim waist, and to her hips that accentuated her slender form, every part of her figure naturally drew the eye.
Even the beasts of the auction house had never seen Vivianne like this. Yet, why had they been so desperate to claim her?
As Edwin pondered this, Vivianne leaped into the lake, swimming for a while before diving beneath the surface. Then, suddenly, she vanished entirely.
When she didn’t resurface for what felt like an eternity, the unease gnawed at him.
Had she drowned?
No, that couldn’t be. She mustn’t die like this. That wasn’t what she had promised.
Just as his patience reached its limit and he moved to stand, Vivianne burst above the surface, gasping for breath.
Clicking his tongue in irritation, Edwin reached for the book resting on his thigh, only to find it had already fallen to the ground. A glance at the closed cover reminded him he hadn’t marked the page, and he let out an annoyed sigh.
Then, lifting his head, Edwin heard a sound from the lake.
Sob, sob.
Vivianne couldn’t stop the tears that kept flowing, sobbing like a child. But no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t stop the never-ending stream of tears or the uncontrollable wailing from her throat.
The noble and elegant young lady was nowhere to be found. In her place was a child—pouting, jealous, sulking—unable to conceal such raw, primary emotions.
Such a side of Vivianne had likely never been shown to Theo Evans, nor, perhaps, even to her parents.
And so, the peculiar joy Edwin felt wasn’t an unusual reaction.
Something only he could see. Something permitted only to him.
As if he possessed every part of her, the sound of her sobs echoing around him filled Edwin with an inexplicable delight.
