CHAPTER 23
“Thirty thousand mori? Miss Aveline, isn’t that quite a large sum for you right now?”
Gideon scratched his head, flustered as if the amount she had mentioned was higher than expected. Seeing his resolve and enthusiasm waver, Vivianne grew anxious.
“I don’t know why you need that large amount of money, but staying under the Duke’s protection as you are now is likely the only way to avoid terrible consequences.”
Vivianne was greatly disappointed when his answer was completely different from what she had expected. Noticing the sharp downturn in her lips, Gideon realized his slip of the tongue. With a look of persuasion in his eyes, he scooted closer.
“There was a time when Old Money shunned New Money, preventing them from stepping into high society. Things may have changed enough now for them to even earn titles, but who knows? Deep down, they might still scorn New Money as vulgar. Do you know why they did that?”
Vivianne thought for a moment before shaking her head.
“Because making money is a dirty business.”
The baron’s reply only pushed her deeper into confusion. Why would earning money be a dirty thing? It was a contradictory answer for Vivianne, who had belatedly realized that she needed money to eat, clothe herself, and sleep.
“You have no idea what I went through or the insults I endured to sell my carriages and get paid.”
Gideon smiled warmly as he recalled the long past unfolding before his eyes. Even though the memories weren’t pleasant, the joy he felt when reflecting on how far he’d come always made his heart race.
“I’ve been slapped, knelt all night in front of their manors, and even been dragged away by the police more than once.”
“Isn’t selling a carriage and receiving payment a natural transaction? I don’t understand why you had to endure such humiliation, Baron. If anything, the ones who the police should have taken are the people who didn’t pay you—not an honest seller.”
Seeing her innocent eyes, as if the world she didn’t understand belonged to a different realm, Gideon suppressed the laughter that almost burst out.
“You truly don’t understand, but that’s the nature of earning money. It’s a world full of contradictions, where things happen that feel illogical. That’s why you see so much ugliness and filth. You have to throw your dignity and decorum into the mud and test how far you can fall as a person to make money. That’s how you make big money.”
Vivianne couldn’t find the right words to respond. She gripped her skirt tightly, as if it were an unyielding pillar, afraid she might be swept into that mud.
“That’s how the Duke became the richest man in Neway.”
As the conversation naturally turned to Edwin, a deep shadow fell over Vivianne’s face. Her eyes, filled with admiration, turned toward the distant quince tree’s shade.
“The orphan who survived the Port of Olren and became Neway’s wealthiest and most powerful figure.”
The word ‘orphan’ struck Vivianne’s heart like a sharp arrow. It stung so deeply that it left a painful imprint that could not be removed.
“You don’t know about the Port of Olren, do you, Miss Aveline? Olren is quite a large city, but at that time, the port was essentially a lawless zone. Children born and raised there had no futures other than becoming pirates or criminals or dying from beatings, starvation, or disease.”
Fourteen years ago, the ship Sayer boarded departed from Preston and was headed for the Port of Olren. Sayer, who had sworn to make her regret saving him—who had vowed to come back and kill her—had safely disembarked at Olren but had never managed to leave the port.
Feeling an overwhelming urge to cry, Vivianne lowered her head. Those peculiar blue eyes, filled with revenge, had torn through her heart and shackled her.
“Anyway, making money isn’t easy. And it’s even harder for unmarried noblewomen to find work. So now…”
“Is there really no other way?”
Her voice noticeably trembled, choked with emotion. Gideon, who didn’t know how to turn away from such a pitiful woman, stopped trying to frighten her and instead earnestly pondered how he could help.
But there was no way. In less civilized countries, the downfall of upper-class women often led to slavery. But this was Neway.
Even if they had fallen, they could still enjoy basic rights. However, that didn’t mean they were given opportunities to survive. More often than not, the only news heard about them was that they had met a miserable end.
“Oh, now that I think about it, something does come to mind.”
As Gideon snapped his fingers, a glimmer of hope appeared in Vivianne’s eyes.
“But I’m not sure if Miss Aveline will be able to accept it.”
“Anything is fine. I can accept it. I’m in no position to refuse if it means earning money.”
“But there’s something you need to understand. Frankly, thirty thousand mori is an enormous amount of money. Just because you can earn money doesn’t mean you’ll ever touch that large amount of money.”
“It’s better than doing embroidery.”
Her hasty reply carried her unfiltered sincerity. Gideon, exhaling a brief, hesitant sigh, responded to Vivianne’s earnestness and continued.
“I once heard about a head maid at a place I visited a few years ago to collect payment for a carriage. She was said to have been the daughter of a count.”
He shared this shocking story, hoping to convey its gravity, but Vivianne’s expression remained completely unaffected. There wasn’t even a flicker of surprise. Encouraged by her reaction, Gideon continued.
“I’ve heard that thanks to all her efforts, she managed to gather quite a bit of wealth. They say she owns a house, not just a rented room. The key to making money is simple: how far are you willing to fall? Are you willing to abandon your dignity as a noble? Are you ready to accept this contradictory world?”
Willing to fall… dignity as a noble… a contradictory world.
It felt like standing at the beginning of a vague and distant road. The fear of venturing into the unknown became clear right there, at the threshold, as she prepared to take the first step.
“If you’re not prepared for all of this, Miss Aveline, you won’t be able to make money. I can’t say for sure if you’ll be able to earn a large sum, but I can assure you of one thing.”
I had already lost everything. All that remained for me were debts and death.
So, no matter what more I might lose now, there was no further bottom to hit.
I had to overcome my fears and take the first step. That was the only way to free myself from the self-loathing that powerlessness brought.
“I can do it. No, I will do it. I’ll overcome anything.”
Her clear eyes shone brightly with determination, and her resolve touched Gideon deeply.
Still, he couldn’t completely dismiss the possibility that this was the reckless challenge of a noble lady unaware of reality.
“Even if it means becoming a maid?”
“Do I have any other path left to turn to? What difference is there between that head maid and me? If I must abandon everything, I will. This isn’t for me—it’s for my family and the friends I love.”
Her refusal to accept defeat and her resolve to carve out a future inspired a willingness in Gideon to help her. He wanted to aid her as much as she needed and see her reach her goal.
“Alright. With that mindset, Miss Aveline, I’m sure you’ll succeed no matter what.”
When her body’s heat calmed down a bit, Vivianne exhaled a deep, hot breath.
“Then, what should I do now? Where should I work as a maid? Is the place where the head maid works in the capital? Or could you recommend a place where I could work as a maid?”
Countless questions poured out, but Gideon simply shrugged, as if he didn’t understand why she was asking.
“Aren’t you already in an excellent position?”
“Pardon? What do you mean?”
“It seems to me that you could start working tomorrow, if you just asked. I think your request would be granted.”
This time, it was Vivianne’s turn to shrug in confusion.
“… Who should I ask for such a request?”
“Who else?”
Vivianne was ready to accept anything, no matter how dire or degrading it might be.
That was until Baron Zimmerman explained who he meant.
“The Duke of Baytness.”
The tea the baron had prepared was already completely drunk. Afterward, Vivianne endured the long wait by staring at the patterns on the tablecloth. The increasing discomfort from the heat bothered her, but she showed no sign of it and stubbornly stayed put.
After the baron left, Vivianne didn’t turn her head. She wasn’t the type to graciously face someone who had choked her, shot at her, or grabbed her roughly.
Taking a deep breath in and exhaling slowly, Vivianne strained her ears to listen. The shriek of a blade slicing through the air, the sound of cold water being swallowed, muffled conversation, and then another shriek of the blade.
She relied solely on sound to piece together the situation.
How much time had passed? When the match ended, Vivianne straightened her back. She stubbornly waited for Edwin, who clearly had something to say to her.
Edwin’s next destination had to be in this direction, and the noise of the two men shouldn’t drift away in the opposite one.
He forgot I was waiting.
Vivianne jumped up from her seat and followed Edwin’s retreating back. She hurried to catch up, careful not to raise her voice in an impolite manner.
“Your Grace.”
As the distance closed, she spoke in a small voice. Edwin, sweating, looked back at Vivianne.
He had told her he had something to say and asked her to wait, so she endured the hot, tedious hours. Still, she didn’t want to blame him for forgetting her.
However, if he had forgotten, she thought it only polite that he show some sign of surprise now. If he had just remembered her, there should have been at least a hint of wavering.
But contrary to his earlier words—asking her to wait because he had something to say—his blue eyes were indifferent.
“What is it?”
That indifferent question pushed Vivianne into a pit of confusion.
“… Didn’t you say you had something to say to me?”
“No.”
His tone was flat and dry. The way he brushed back his sweat-dampened hair gave the impression of irritation, leading her to conclude once again that the refreshing, almost boyish side of him she had once glimpsed was nothing more than an illusion.
“Then why did you…?”
Edwin looked down at her with the coldness of a winter lake. His emotionless gaze made Vivianne take a step back, recoiling from his heartless eyes.
“I waited for a long time. Your Grace said you had something to tell me. And now you’re saying you don’t? Why on earth would you…?”
When Vivianne raised her voice, she glanced at Roarke, but he was already far away.
“I understand why you’re acting like this, but I hope you won’t do it again in the future.”
Vivianne struggled to suppress her anger and conveyed her emotions as plainly as she could.
“And what reason do you think I have for acting like this?”
“… I suppose it’s because it would take too long to pay off my debt, fatten me up to your satisfaction, and then kill me. So you want to take revenge on me like this instead. Tormenting me this way must make you feel a little better.”
It was the only form of revenge he could take on her—the one who had deliberately made her suffer.
No man, at least as Vivianne understood them, was indifferent to petty criticism. A man, she believed, would turn red-faced, summon every ounce of gentlemanliness he could muster, and make every effort to overturn a negative judgment against him.
“Then endure it, if you know.”
Today, more than ever, she felt the world was against her—not that it hadn’t been before.
Her lips stiffened as the man calmly accepted her criticism without a hint of offense. She hadn’t expected him to deflect her words with such simple and nonchalant ease.
“Why are you complaining?”
He smirked and turned to walk away.
Outraged, Vivianne let out a sharp breath. A hot, damp breeze blew against her, and she fanned herself furiously, trying to push back the oppressive air.
