CHAPTER 32
It had already been a week since Edwin arrived in Rodinia. The end of Gilbert Totten’s Land Economics, which Edwin had been reading, was finally in sight. It seemed like the book would never end, but just as its conclusion drew near, so too was the end of Vivianne Aveline’s story.
Imagining Vivianne Aveline’s defeated and broken look, Edwin closed the book, which now had only a few pages left. The calm surface of the lake, where not a single breeze could be found, was filled only with a cold, eerie silence. Once again, there was no phantom-like golden mermaid today. A lake without beauty was no different from a torn masterpiece. No matter how highly praised, a painting with a major flaw could never be sold at its full value.
Edwin bit into a half-ripe red fruit he had picked on his way to the lake. The sour juice burst in his mouth, and a sweet taste lingered on his tongue. It was quite pleasant in its own way. The astringent taste had a certain charm. It reminded him of Vivianne from that day— the day she had clung to him, saying she would do anything to save the gatekeeper. He had imagined the taste of her full, red lips that day.
“Your Grace.”
A voice called out to Edwin, who was sitting with his back leaning against a tree. Heavy footsteps stopped beside him as he sat with his eyes gently closed.
“A letter from Sir Corbin has arrived.”
When he slowly opened his eyes, a white envelope was extended before him. It bore neither a sender’s nor a recipient’s name, only a solitary emblem engraved upon it. Rather than taking the letter immediately, Edwin looked up at Roarke. The stiff expression on Roarke’s face was mirrored in Edwin’s indifferent blue eyes.
“I believe I told you not to come near here.”
“I thought it would be fine since the lady isn’t around…”
“When has Aveline ever announced her arrival in advance? Never. That woman has never done such a thing.”
“… I apologize. I’ll correct myself.”
Edwin’s gaze, graceful and soft as though painting a picture, landed on the awkwardly extended letter. He took it and opened its contents.
“If Aveline were in the lake today, you would have had both your eyes gouged out.”
Although his words were harsh, they were spoken with a calm indifference, and Roarke received them with the same composed demeanor. Standing there with an unwavering expression, Roarke straightened his back and raised his head toward the sky rather than the empty lake.
“I will be careful.”
“You may leave now.”
“Yes, Your Grace.”
Bowing his head slightly, Roarke turned and left.
The letter Roarke had delivered was intriguing. It exceeded Edwin’s expectations, leaving him satisfied. Smiling faintly, Edwin tucked the letter back into its envelope and gazed at the rippling lake, touched by the cool evening breeze.
The kind of lake he imagined, with a golden mermaid playing in it.
After spring came summer—the season he had spent with Vivianne. Her presence during those seasons felt like a dream.
The girl from the carriage, whom he had once seen only in his dreams, had grown—alive and vivid—giving him yet another dream.
When Vivianne dies and reality takes over, that beautiful dream will be buried deep in his memory.
So, how should I kill you?
The three weeks he spent at Farrington were long. Whenever he couldn’t sleep at night, he longed for the scent of flowers that lingered in the manor of Rodinia. And he knew. In the fleeting memories of Rodinia, Vivianne’s image was also etched.
So, how am I supposed to endure a season without you?
The more his thoughts spiraled, the harder it became to determine the right time to kill Vivianne Aveline.
Edwin gazed at the golden mermaid swimming leisurely in the lake of his imagination. He filled his eyes to the brim with the sight of her splashing like a child, laughing brightly, her gray eyes sparkling with joy.
He bit into the remaining fruit. The juice, too bitter to savor, slid down his throat.
A week and four days had passed. The summer in Rodinia was at its peak, and the blazing, transparent sunlight scorched the land white.
The oppressive heat, which made one sweat even when standing, extended into the nights. Surely, someone of noble origin, likely using the servants’ quarters, was shuddering from the unfamiliar discomfort.
Even in such heat, Edwin, impeccably dressed and as composed as ever, astonished the servants, who were already shocked by the intensity of Rodinia’s summer.
The windows and double doors of the study were wide open. The breeze flowing between them somewhat alleviated the heat. Edwin, seated at his desk and sorting through a stack of letters and documents, paused when Sophie entered, carrying a refreshing drink.
Vivianne’s status had plummeted from that of a noble young lady to a mere servant. As a result, Sophie, too, had been demoted—from attending to her mistress to being treated as just another servant.
Edwin watched Sophie as she placed the drink on his desk. He didn’t show much interest in her until, as she turned to leave, a cubic jewel in her corsage caught the sunlight and caught his eye.
“Sophie.”
“Yes, Your Grace?”
Sophie, holding the tray close to her chest, stopped in her tracks.
“Where did you get that?”
Edwin pointed to Sophie’s chest. Realizing what he meant, Sophie’s eyes widened, and she quickly covered the corsage with her hand.
“I-it wasn’t stolen! It was a gift—a gift from Miss Aveline! She gave it to me the other day. You can check! I swear, I didn’t steal it!”
Servants could never be entirely free from their master’s suspicions, so Sophie fervently protested and claimed her innocence.
“A gift from Aveline?”
“Yes! Miss Aveline sold her embroidery and bought me a gift.”
Sophie, delighted to receive the gift, didn’t know what the master of the manor, her employer, wanted or demanded from her.
Edwin opened a desk drawer, pulled out a heavy pouch, and placed it on the desk.
“This. Take it. And that. Leave it behind.”
Leaning back in his chair, Edwin alternated between pointing at the pouch on the desk and Sophie’s corsage. Sophie’s eyes, as wide as when she thought she was being accused, shifted between the corsage and the pouch. Realizing what was about to be taken from her, she clutched the corsage tightly, crushing one of its petals.
“I-I’m sorry, Your Grace. It’s a gift, and it’s very precious to me.”
“You won’t get a better opportunity than this. You should take the trade.”
Her eyes wavered as she glanced at the money pouch on the desk, showing signs of internal conflict. However, as if resolute in her decision, she refused to release her grip on the corsage.
“N-no! I don’t need the money. I’m truly sorry, Your Grace. I’ll be leaving now.”
With a deep bow, Sophie swiftly ran out through the open double doors in mere seconds.
Left alone with the pouch, Edwin returned it to the drawer, his expression laced with displeasure.
He tried to focus on the letters again, but Vivianne’s corsage lingered in his thoughts.
The image of Vivianne carefully selecting a gift, hoping to bring Sophie happiness, flashed through his mind, stirring an uncontrollable impulse.
Finding no reason to suppress it, Edwin left the study. After asking Abernathy about Vivianne’s whereabouts, he headed straight for her.
It was the first time since her arrival in Rodinia three weeks ago that he actively sought her out. Vivianne had shown no intention of surrendering. Her tenacity and stubbornness were so impressive that Edwin almost felt like cheering her on.
And so, curiosity sparked within him. How ridiculous would Vivianne look, having fallen from the highest place to the very bottom? And how much amusement might such a sight bring him?
Descending the stairs, Edwin made his way to the manor’s back door. As he stepped outside, the washing lines crisscrossing the yard were hung with sheets fluttering in the wind. Voices carried on the breeze, weaving through the fluttering fabrics.
“Miss! You need to finish soon!”
“How can you be so slow? The laundry hasn’t even been hung yet, and it’s already drying and wrinkling!”
Amid the snickering giggles, a small voice replied. It was Vivianne’s voice.
Through the fluttering white fabric catching the sunlight, Edwin caught a glimpse of her back in the distance.
Her uniform, dirtier than before, and her golden hair, plastered messily to her neck with sweat, shimmered under the glaring sun.
In that disheveled state, Vivianne was struggling to hang the wet sheets. Judging by the basket set down beside her, it seemed to be the last of the laundry.
“If you’re finished, you should hurry to the barn. You’re already so late that Caroline will be furious!”
“Yes, I’ll go now.”
Just as she came into Edwin’s view, Vivianne tucked the empty basket under her arm and disappeared without hesitation.
“Ah, thanks to Aveline, the days feel more relaxed. That idiot just does everything she’s told.”
“That’s what happens when you’re like a kite with its string cut. I’m so curious, though. What could she have possibly said to His Grace to end up suffering like this?”
“Exactly. She must have been so ungrateful, insolent, and shameless to deserve this.”
“Serves her right. A woman like that deserves to be drowned in shit. Marian really seems sharp about these kinds of things, don’t you think?”
“Ah, by the way, we should hurry and follow her. We wouldn’t want to miss the show. Pushing her at the laundry station didn’t really get much of a reaction…”
As their excited chatter continued, a large shadow loomed over them. When the shadow, cast under the transparent sunlight, reached them, one of the maids raised her head and tilted it curiously.
It didn’t take long for them to realize that the owner of the shadow was the master of the manor. The two maids froze in place like statues.
Edwin’s blue eyes briefly glanced at them before turning away. Moments later, Abernathy, who had arrived late with the other servants, quickly assessed the situation and sternly reprimanded the maids.
Vivianne arrived at the barn, placed the empty basket on a stack of hay, and wiped the sweat from her forehead.
Seeing the stacked hay reminded her of yesterday’s nightmare. The vivid memory of flipping hay until her body felt as though it might break still made her shoulders ache.
The pain from last night had been so intense that she’d worried she might lose the use of her shoulders altogether. She had cried quietly from the agony, fearing the worst. Though the pain hadn’t completely subsided, it wasn’t severe enough to stop her from moving—if she gritted her teeth and pushed through.
Shaking off the memory, Vivianne stepped into the barn without hesitation. She spotted Caroline bent over on the barn floor. Determined not to show any sign of exhaustion, Vivianne forced a smile, pulling the corners of her mouth upward.
Thud!
Something unexpected hit her. Startled, Vivianne flailed her arms in an attempt to regain her balance. Then a pungent smell overwhelmed her senses, snapping her back to reality.
“Oh my! Miss! Why were you there? What do we do? I’m so sorry! Are you alright?”
Staring down at herself in stunned disbelief, Vivianne realized what had just happened.
It was livestock manure.
She had been doused with the contents of a bucket that had been collected to be dumped all at once.
Caroline, the cause of the mishap, stomped her feet. Even while worrying about how fiercely the smell was emanating, Caroline, holding her nose, was on the verge of tears.
“I didn’t do it on purpose! I was trying to take the bucket out, but my foot got caught, and it just…!”
Vivianne’s stiff lips wouldn’t open. She needed to say it was okay, needed to look at Caroline, but she was afraid—terrified—of confronting Caroline’s sincerity.
“I’m really sorry, Miss. I’ll have to clean all this up too… What should we do? Should I help you? I do have other tasks to finish, but if it’s too much for you…”
“It’s fine.”
At some point, Vivianne managed to compose herself, and her lips finally moved. The effort it took to lift her head and form a smile was evident.
“Just be more careful next time. Go on. I’ll take care of it here.”
“I’m really sorry. Then I’ll leave it to you.”
Caroline walked away, her footsteps retreating as if circling around the infernal pit she’d left behind.
Silence descended, but the shameful smell lingered. Having been drenched in animal manure in the height of summer, Vivianne couldn’t help but worry if the smell might carry all the way to the town. The odor was so overwhelming it brought tears to her eyes.
Her manure-soaked, disheveled clothes felt sticky and disgusting. Vivianne endured and worked silently, even though she felt like she was going to vomit. Meanwhile, her skirt, damp with manure, clung to her thighs, and the unpleasant sensation crawled across her skin, pushing her to the edge of despair.
It was around that time that Edwin’s footsteps reached the threshold of the barn.
There she was—Vivianne, drenched in excrement, crouching as she cleaned the dirty barn floor.
What a funny sight it was.
The downfall of Preston’s prestigious aristocratic house. The fall of the noble lady. A woman who once seemed to embody the delicate fragrance of flowers is now surrounded by a foul and repugnant odor.
It wasn’t unexpected. In fact, it was what Edwin had hoped for.
And yet, he found no amusement in it.
She had been used to being treated with care and pampered. Vivianne, without any immunity to such mistreatment, endured it without shedding a single tear.
Her disheveled, pitiful form, struggling on the ground with her small hands, brought back a memory from long ago.
That woman had once been the noble girl sitting in the carriage fourteen years ago. She had been a girl with cascading golden hair, smiling innocently—a foolish young lady who sympathized with others after hearing their circumstances.
Did that girl, who once worried about the future of others as if untouched by the trials of the world, ever foresee this future for herself?
Could she have known that one day she would endure such humiliation under the mocking maids who would throw filth on the precious body of a noble lady?
“Your Grace.”
Vivianne’s eyes followed the sound from under the shadow of the barn. When her gaze met Edwin’s, her face blanched as if struck by lightning, and her thick lips trembled.
Her gray eyes, now clearly shaken, showed a mix of complex emotions.
And in the face of those eyes, Edwin was seized by a fourth, unrefined impulse.
“Drag her out.”
He gave the cold order to Abernathy. Vivianne, still dazed, snapped back to reality. When Abernathy signaled the servants behind her, Vivianne stood up abruptly, as if protesting.
“W-wait! P-please, Your Grace! Just a moment!”
The servants moved to drag Vivianne out of the barn. At her desperate cry, they hesitated and looked to Edwin, but his stern eyes showed no intention of backing down.
“Drag her out.”
The order was given without hesitation. The servants grabbed Vivianne’s arms and dragged her out of the barn, despite her fierce resistance.
