CHAPTER 34
Sophie, furious, dragged Vivianne into the bathroom, filled the tub, stripped off her clothes, and washed her—all the while cursing and swearing at those who had harassed Vivianne.
It was common for them to mock Vivianne, now a maid, in front of Sophie. This often led to heated arguments and, on one occasion, even a physical altercation with another servant over a corsage the master had tried to exchange for money.
The bystanders, who had done nothing to intervene, lamented Sophie’s insistence on making enemies, advising her to stop siding with Aveline and to get along with everyone instead.
When Sophie was assigned to serve Vivianne after moving from the capital to Rodinia, she had no particular thoughts about it. She was simply delighted—pleased to finally gain recognition from the master and enjoy the higher wages that came with the position. At first, she felt no guilt, even when her master ordered her to report every little thing Vivianne did.
But the more time she spent with Vivianne, the more she was moved by Vivianne’s pure, innocent nature and her endlessly warm and kind heart. Sophie’s emotions gradually aligned with Vivianne’s.
When Vivianne sheepishly smiled and admitted she couldn’t afford a better corsage due to her circumstances, Sophie even thought she might be willing to dedicate her life to this person.
To rid Vivianne of the foul stench clinging to her, Sophie dumped all the bath products she could find into the tub. After all, suffocating from the scent of flowers was surely preferable to enduring the smell of animal excrement.
After rinsing Vivianne and refilling the tub with clean water, Sophie added more bath products. She sniffed the heavily perfumed water, nodded in satisfaction, and placed the still-dazed Vivianne back into the tub. Looking at Vivianne’s now pale, clean face, Sophie let out a soft sigh.
“Miss, are you alright?”
Vivianne blankly nodded.
“Even so, this is a hundred—no, a thousand—times better. No matter what, you’re still a noble lady. How could you possibly do such harsh work… Honestly, when I first heard about your situation, I resented the duke so much.”
Lost in thought, Vivianne pulled her legs close and buried her face in them. The frail young lady, utterly exhausted, no longer had the strength to cry. Sophie gently poured the fragrant, flower-scented water over Vivianne’s now noticeably cleaner golden hair.
Sophie said no more. She quietly waited, letting the sweet floral fragrance envelop her, giving Vivianne the space she needed to recover.
The evening summer air was refreshing, a welcome change from its usual dampness, though it still carried the warmth of the season.
The only sound in the quiet study was the regular click of a locket opening and closing. Sitting at the desk once used by Lawrence Aveline, with Vivianne’s portrait contained within the locket, Edwin emptied his mind of stray thoughts.
A knock echoed through the room as Abernathy entered, but Edwin’s long fingers, still toying with the locket, did not stop.
“Miss Windler has left the manor with her maid, and the money you requested has been delivered.”
He nodded casually. Even as he sent Charlotte, who had been with him, into danger, his emotions remained unreadable.
“Miss Aveline is currently taking a bath.”
At the mention of that name, the locket snapped shut with a sharp noise. Even as the sound faded, his blue eyes, fixed on the empty air, did not blink.
“Shall I tell Miss Aveline to join Your Grace for dinner?”
That tiresome name made even the refreshing breeze blowing in from the window feel unpleasant. As the memory of her soft voice calling his name mingled with echoes of angry shouting, Edwin closed his eyes to block out the memory.
“If she refuses to join me for dinner, tell her I will personally come to fetch her.”
“… Yes, Your Grace. I will pass that on.”
“And deliver the dresses that arrived to Miss Aveline’s room.”
With those final instructions, Abernathy left the study.
In the silence that followed, Edwin slowly lowered his eyes and looked at the closed locket.
What had he been trying to define amidst the repetitive, rhythmic noise?
From the moment he saw Aveline in the barn to the point when he sent Charlotte away, Edwin retraced his emotions. Everything had been impulsive, and he sought to uncover the cause of that impulse.
He found one answer, but still… he couldn’t understand why today’s Vivianne and this emotion were connected, bringing him back to square one.
This emotion that he had been experiencing all day—it was anger, the feeling constantly fueling his impulses.
What awaited Vivianne after her bath was a card relaying the duke’s command to attend dinner, accompanied by a wall of gift boxes.
Sophie opened one of the boxes and pulled out a dress. Simple yet elegant, its sophistication was evident at a glance—completely different from the dress Theo had made for her.
Confirming that all the items filling the room were dresses sent by the duke, Sophie’s face lit up. It was, in a way, an apology for the hardships Vivianne had endured.
Sophie praised the duke’s taste, saying the dress would suit Vivianne perfectly. She remarked that while Vivianne could easily pull off bold, striking colors that captivated attention, the elegant and delicate charm of a springtime butterfly suited her just as well. Sophie urged her to try on one of the dresses.
Vivianne firmly refused and instead examined the card left behind. It was in Abernathy’s handwriting, and the written postscript caught her eye. A weary sigh escaped her lips.
Choosing Theo’s dress over the ones sent by the duke, Vivianne prepared herself. As the threatening content of the card demanded, she made her way to the dining room where dinner would be held.
From a fallen noblewoman to a maid taking on the dirtiest jobs, and from a maid humiliated by having manure thrown at her for others’ amusement to an untouchable, noble lady—Vivianne’s status had swung from earth to sky and back again.
Her graceful stride, upright posture, and squared shoulders made everyone question whether she was the same Vivianne they had seen that morning.
When she arrived at the dining room, Vivianne first looked for Edwin, but he was nowhere to be seen. Under Abernathy’s escort, she took her seat and quietly waited for the duke.
It wasn’t long before he appeared. Meeting his cold, unreadable blue eyes, devoid of any discernible thoughts or emotions, Vivianne remained composed.
Edwin sat down and stared at Vivianne, who hadn’t even bothered to stand to greet him.
“You can’t claim you didn’t see the dresses I sent.”
“Am I required to wear them?”
“You should. That’s your responsibility.”
Their conversation was bleak and dry. The space between them, devoid of even the smallest spark, felt chilling—like the calm before a storm.
The half-crazed Vivianne of the afternoon was nowhere to be seen. Whatever magic Sophie had worked on, Vivianne’s sunburned skin had turned soft and pale, and her previously dry, unruly golden hair now gleamed with silky smoothness.
However, wearing Theo’s dress was no different from being a challenge. If she intended to provoke him, Edwin had no intention of conceding.
“I will no longer take any responsibility,” she said.
“Do you think that’s possible?”
Her gray eyes met his, displaying a mix of fatigue and resignation. Edwin wondered just how far her stubbornness would go.
“It was you who took away my chance to take responsibility, Your Grace. It was your mistake to place me back in this seat after I had endured the scorn of others. I’m giving up. You took away the hope I could run toward, so I won’t run anymore.”
The main course arrived, but neither of them paid any attention. Instead, leaning back in his chair with an air of arrogance, Edwin lowered his gaze and allowed a faint smile to play on his lips.
“Are you planning to abandon your mother?”
Edwin played his trump card, intending to shake Vivianne. For a moment, she seemed to waver but quickly gathered her composure.
“Isn’t it all over anyway? I’ll die by your hand, and my parents won’t come back. When you stole my hope, you also made me abandon the belief that my parents were alive,” she said, her voice trembling as she spoke words she didn’t want to admit.
Vivianne’s voice wavered, but she swallowed her tears and maintained the decorum expected of her in this setting.
“So, whether you strangle me, shoot me, or tear my body apart and serve it on this table…”
Her words were cut off as Edwin burst into laughter. The loud, mocking sound, so overwhelming that it seemed to drown her in its echo, made Vivianne shut her eyes tightly.
“Do you know why you can’t work in this manor?”
Vivianne opened her eyes before he even finished the question.
She had learned too many times that a gentleman’s smile wasn’t always what it seemed.
“Because you’re still spouting such absurd nonsense.”
“…”
“You’re still deluded into thinking this place is some kind of fairy tale and that the man in front of you is going to devour you, like in a dream. That’s why.”
Vivianne’s flustered eyes darted left and right, struggling to regain her composure.
“You’re too naïve, too easy to prey on. A foolish woman who smiles even as others claw at her—there’s no idiot who’d give someone like that a job.”
Vivianne’s expression crumbled at once, filling Edwin with a cruel delight. The thrill of tasting victory in war was unforgettable, a memory that would linger forever. Today’s Vivianne would become a face he would recall over and over again in his lifetime.
“You’re incompetent. That’s my conclusion, and that’s why you were dragged out of the barn.”
Vivianne’s gaze dropped. Tears she had been holding back fell onto the tablecloth. Her flushed cheeks and glossy lips robbed him of the full pleasure of his victory.
This time, something other than anger stirred within him. Even he couldn’t pinpoint the cause or reason for it.
“Your Grace… What is it you want from me? Please tell me. Is it so you can accuse my mother and take revenge on my father because I can’t repay the debt? Is your ultimate goal to completely destroy and ruin my family? I don’t know anymore—how much longer I have to endure, or what I’m supposed to do…”
Vivianne wept helplessly, her endurance over the past month now feeling meaningless.
“I want to protect my family too… I want to do everything I can to shield them from you, Your Grace.”
Her sobs carried guilt—the guilt of someone who dared to speak of protecting her loved ones in front of a man who had lost his own. Suffocated by her own shame, she couldn’t lift her head, retreating into a small, invisible shell.
“So you’re asking what I want?”
Edwin’s voice was calm, even cold, as he murmured. Vivianne nodded vigorously, wiping away her tears.
“I’ve always told you what I want.”
His level, unshaken tone momentarily sparked a glimmer of hope in Vivianne.
“Beg me. Beg me to spare you. Plead for your life.”
But whether that could truly offer her hope was uncertain. His words felt more like poison, something that would ultimately trap her in her own despair.
“Do you think I won’t listen if you say that?”
Vivianne gasped, her chest heaving. The emotion in her numb gaze overflowed uncontrollably like floodwaters surging after a heavy rain.
“I told you. If you did, then I’d show some mercy.”
