EID Chapter 118

Chapter 118

Tying the Knot

Edgar put the cigarette, which had been loosely held between his fingers, into a portable ashtray and closed the lid. His gaze remained fixed under the lamplight.

The Pagoda at the Lancelot Hotel, located in a sparsely populated area, was a discreet meeting place considerate of its guests. But tonight, access was strictly controlled, leaving the surroundings as quiet as a secluded island.

In that silence, footsteps echoed across the moonlit garden—neither fast nor slow, but steady. Edgar was just about to place a new cigarette in his mouth. A smile crept onto the corner of his lips. Tonight, it seemed, the goddess of fortune was on his side. He welcomed it.

Without hesitation, he snapped the new cigarette and tossed it into the ashtray. Click. The metallic lid’s snap resonated over the sound of approaching footsteps.

From the darkness, the steady footsteps on the stone path grew closer. The figure entered the circle of lamplight, momentarily capturing Edgar’s gaze.

“…….”

Edgar’s face gradually twisted.

“Unbelievable.”

He burst into a laugh mixed with cursing, running a hand irritably through his hair and lifting his head. The starlight of this night, taunting him, looked unusually beautiful against the pitch-black sky. It reminded him of that night by the Vichen River, when he had kissed her lips.

Olivia did not come.

By the time Johan stepped out of the shower, evening had fallen. Outside the window, it was dim, but the lights inside the suite were bright. Droplets of clear water splashed from his hair as he passed through the dressing room.

The breeze entering through the open window brushed against his bare upper body, as if wrapping him. Soon, the cool, refreshing scent of his skin care settled quietly in the space.

“Miss Blanchett asked me to find the fastest passage to Nostia.”

So, this time it was the New World. Coincidentally, it overlapped with the destinations of Kyla Johansson and Angela Birkin a few days earlier. There was probably no connection between them.

It was likely chosen with only one thought in mind: to go as far away from me as possible.

A wry sigh escaped him, laced with cynicism.

A polite knock came just as Johan was buttoning up his shirt. When he said they could come in, the hotel staff entered, reflected in the mirror.

After a formal bow, the staff approached.

“Sir, the watch from Le Mont has arrived.”

Johan, skillfully tying the deep blue tie beneath his shirt collar, merely turned his head to glance at the box the staff held out. The golden logo on the dark navy leather box, symbolizing Patek, shimmered under the light.

With a nod from Johan, the staff, having completed the delivery, withdrew.

Johan tightened the knot of his tie to the base of his neck and slowly reached for the box on the table. He opened the lid. The smooth glass surface and round golden frame reflected the light.

The shattered glass cover had been perfectly restored, and the broken dial, which had stopped time, now ticked regularly once again.

Johan stared at it for a while, then turned the watch over. The engraved letters on the back caught his eye:

1897. 06. 16. To my love, Johan.

He continued to gaze silently. He could almost hear his wife’s voice. His Adam’s apple swallowed hard over the neatly tied tie.

It seemed that this was the first time an uninvited emotion had struck Johan—unexpected in his life. A birthday gift from the wife who had divorced and left him:

To my love, Johan.

He fastened the watch to his wrist. The cold metal touched his skin.

Even if that petty thief hadn’t provoked him that day, or if he hadn’t teased for the watch during their chance encounter in Litton, it might have remained a fleeting curiosity—an emotion to eventually forget. But now that it had surfaced, he had to see it through.

“…Even if I have nowhere to go… I don’t want you….”

He naturally slung his bag over his neck and draped his right arm through it. Finally, he put on his suit jacket. Once he adjusted the tie one last time, he was ready to go.

Across the Pagoda, Maurice appeared—Johan’s assistant. Edgar laughed at the indescribable emptiness he felt.

Maurice carried a box that left Edgar dumbfounded. The blue ribbon was missing, but it was clearly the box containing the frame Edgar had sent to Olivia.

Edgar put a cigarette to his lips, lit it, and flicked the match out. The thick smell of sulfur dispersed into the cool autumn night. Inhaling deeply, he exhaled while watching Maurice climb the marble steps with steady footsteps.

“It’s been a while, Marquis.”

“Did you even search through the trash, Maurice?”

His low voice cut through the night with the white smoke. Edgar chuckled softly. Tonight would hardly be a pleasant one.

Maurice approached hesitantly, presenting the box politely.

“It was sent by the representative.”

Edgar let out a short laugh. There was no need to explain; he already envisioned the scene. There were only two possibilities: either he really had searched the trash, or Olivia had personally requested it. Either way, the mood was foul.

Edgar took the box in one hand, lighting his cigarette with the other, and opened the lid.

Ha. A snicker slipped past his lips, smoke rising into the air.

“Interesting.” Edgar grinned, showing his teeth.

Maurice’s heart skipped a beat. The pale blue-gray eyes fixed on the box. Moonlight struck the cracked glass ruthlessly, pricking his eyes. The photo beneath was grotesquely warped, as if warning that the broken relationship with Olivia could never be mended.

“Well, I’ll be going then.”

Observing Edgar’s gradually contorting expression, Maurice bowed quickly and left.

The children of his half-sisters—though their blood was thin, their presence was as imposing as Johan’s. Maurice shook his head and hurried out of the Pagoda.

Edgar’s gaze remained fixed on the ruined frame. Veins stood out on the back of his hand gripping the corner of the box.

He inhaled deeply, exhaled harshly, and lightly traced Olivia’s face with the hand holding the loosely gripped cigarette. He cut himself on the jagged edges of the glass.

“Never look at me again.”

Edgar tugged at his tie and pressed the throbbing vein on his forehead with his fingertips.

This was unfair, wasn’t it? He laughed irritably, taking one last drag of the cigarette.

He needed to be properly apologized to. Right, Olivia?

By the time the faint smoke from the heavy, chilly night air had dissipated, Edgar was descending the Pagoda stairs.

Night had deepened on Royal Park Street. Perhaps from her nap, Olivia felt today had stretched endlessly. Droplets fell from the ends of her hair as she stepped out of the bathroom. She wrapped the ends in a dry towel, patting them gently before standing in front of the mirror.

“I’ll do it for you, Miss.”

“It’s fine, Ann. I’ll do it myself.”

Ann, having finished her kitchen work and prepared tea, took the towel from Olivia’s hands.

With nothing else to do, Olivia turned to silently observe the faintly illuminated walking path in the park.

Was he still waiting?

Unnecessary thoughts crowded her mind. She hadn’t even intended to go.

She had burned the postcard. She had asked Ann to throw away the frame. All unnecessary items for packing the suitcase had been discarded without hesitation.

Though starting required courage, ending it had been remarkably easy. There was nothing left to exchange, nothing of his left with her. She felt free.

Ann began brushing her hair when the doorbell rang. Both Olivia and Ann flinched and glanced at each other.

“Who could it be at this hour, Miss?”

Ann’s trembling hands conveyed her surprise through the comb tangled in her hair. Olivia paused to think.

“I’ll go see.”

“No, I’ll go, Ann. Could you get me some clothes?”

It must be Edgar. Even though she had firmly ended things in Winston, it hadn’t been properly conveyed. Then it was time to tie things up for good.

As Olivia changed from pajamas to indoor clothes, the doorbell rang again. She loosely tied her wet hair together and checked the mirror before leaving the bedroom. Compared to the last time she saw him, her face had filled out nicely. At least it showed she hadn’t gone without food or sleep because of him. Satisfied, she descended the stairs.

As she walked the hallway leading to the front door, the doorbell rang a third time. The intervals had shortened. Olivia opened the door as the cool autumn night air swept in. A chill in his voice followed immediately.