Chapter 04 – Lady Mergebille
Edmund, who had left the villa at dawn, returned to the house around late afternoon.
Would Vivienne be awake? If so, how would she have reacted to his absence? Would the faint, unnecessary scent of blood on his clothes trigger her sharp senses?
Such thoughts made his hand tense slightly as he grasped the doorknob. Despite the chill that must have seeped in from outside, the woman did not turn around.
“Hello, Mother?”
Vivienne Mergebille was standing by the curtains that covered the balcony. From the door, only the back of her figure was visible.
“I know. You were worried.”
The voice of Lady Mergebille came through the receiver, so loud that even the distorted call noises seemed audible.
Edmund stood there, waiting to hear what she would say. Would she accuse him of abandoning her and leaving? Or would she, even now, act like a submissive daughter and return home, apologizing and begging for forgiveness?
That she had been so unaware as a child. That she should never have left the house in the first place.
Had the true owner of this house, whom he had locked inside, not attempted to escape in the early hours, he would not have left Vivienne alone to tremble in anxiety.
Of all times…
“Mother.”
After a long silence, Vivienne spoke.
“I’m with a man.”
Her words escaped just as Edmund’s twisted expression registered disbelief.
“I believe your brother’s colleagues would have informed you about this sometime yesterday dawn. I’m sure you also concluded that calling the police to escalate the matter would be unwise.”
Unlike the other party, Vivienne’s chillingly calm voice created an uncanny dissonance.
“The press doesn’t need to know, after all.”
After another long pause, she spoke again.
“…Mother, as you said, am I not the most precious asset of the Mergebille family?”
A self-deprecating laugh mixed with tears, which the other party likely couldn’t see. A deathly silence followed her words.
“If you don’t believe me, check for yourself. The first drawer under the left side of the vanity mirror.”
Edmund, having moved beside her, snatched the phone from her. Vivienne, apparently unaware of his presence until then, looked up at him in surprise.
Meanwhile, the voice came through the receiver.
-
Birth control pills? Where did she get…
Birth control pills.
“Good afternoon.”
The voice, lower than usual, flowed from the receiver. Vivienne reached for it in surprise, but Edmund deliberately blocked her with his shoulder.
-
I know your intentions. His Highness’s son is reportedly staying at his maternal uncle’s estate, so you must have someone behind you. But our girl has done nothing…
In that instant, Edmund lifted the receiver, and Vivienne, as if seeking refuge, leapt into his arms. Nothing was audible. Whatever words followed must have been important, yet all he saw were her eyes looking up at him.
He had thought her irises were red, but upon closer inspection, they were reddish-brown with a heavy mix of red.
A pink tinged with an orange shadow in certain light. Her delicate, noble face imagining her asking another man for help left a strangely irritating feeling.
Recalling the birth control pills brought a cold clarity to his previously tangled thoughts. At that moment, Vivienne stepped back two awkward paces, looking embarrassed.
Click. The receiver rested quietly. Edmund released it and gazed at her.
“Was it about a child?”
That innocent-looking girl had spread herself to a man. Already, three men had been entangled with her: himself, the son of the aristocratic chairman, and some unknown fellow.
“…….”
“Whose child? Your fiancé’s? …Or someone else’s father?”
“My fiancé’s mistress gave it.”
Vivienne passed him and sat at the dining table. Edmund, glancing back, followed and sat opposite her.
She took bread from an unknown basket and began cutting it with a knife.
Edmund looked over the teacup, bread, butter, and jam before meeting her eyes again.
“Mistress?”
“The same woman mentioned on the radio alongside my fiancé yesterday—Janet Bell Watkins.”
“…….”
“She said it might be useful someday and gave it to me as I moved rooms with my fiancé.”
Speaking as if it were nothing, she bit into the bread and then looked at him.
“Why?”
Then, as if to check, she glanced at him with a ‘Did I get something on my face?’ expression. Just as he opened his mouth, she turned her head, and the knife fell to the floor.
Habituated to waiting for a footman to pick it up, Vivienne, perhaps mindful of the previous day’s salon incident, pushed her chair back and bent down to retrieve it herself.
Edmund’s hand on the table clenched instinctively. Veins stood out across the back of his large hand.
Perhaps he remembered those innocent eyes looking up at him. Thoughts drifted to the soft chin he had held, the lips he had brushed with his thumb as they moistened.
Soon, he felt the warmth transfer to his fingers—contact that felt like touching fire.
“Anyway, it’s not about a child.”
The knife was placed on the table, and Vivienne’s cute head popped up over it. Her two pink eyes surveyed cautiously.
“Were you angry thinking it was a scam?”
He silently buttered his bread and began eating the neatly cut triangle slices.
Vivienne chattered on.
“It doesn’t matter, really. Whether there’s a child or not, the information you seek won’t change. There’ll be no hospital visits, no meddling in shops.”
“…Are you okay with your fiancé’s mistress provoking you like that?”
Vivienne, rising to fetch a new knife, shivered slightly at his words. Edmund, turning his head, spoke to her back.
“And being separated from your family…”
“There’s no child.”
Vivienne returned immediately, sitting politely, as if nothing had happened, spreading jam over her bread.
“Wasn’t this the time to exchange what we wanted to hear?”
“Oh, this is what you wanted to hear? …Not what I just said, though.”
He wondered briefly if her composed expression had cracked, but dismissed it. They wouldn’t be playing house forever, so it was trivial. Oddly, she had overreacted.
“I’m not as pitiful as you think, Your Highness.”
After a long pause, Vivienne spoke again, leaving the small piece of bread untouched.
“Those who truly deserve pity are my family.”
“May I ask why?”
“Because they lost me.”
Her consistent pride remained unparalleled.
Leaving her meal, Vivienne moved to the armchair. Edmund cleared the plate and turned, finding her fiddling with the radio’s channel selector.
“When do you plan to start what you want to do?”
“I already did.”
Edmund glanced at the bread and tea, noting the packaging bore brands popular among the working class nearby. His gaze shifted back to Vivienne.
“Oh, do you mean blending in with commoners to buy breakfast?”
Her faintly mocking tone betrayed some emotion.
“No.”
His eyes fell on the shiny coins beside the basket.
“I was curious about what coins look like.”
“…….”
“Now, I want to be among the people listening to the Emperor’s New Year greetings. It’s my first time hearing it broadcast on the radio.”
Though Edmund regretted this inconvenience for her, he considered his time too precious to waste. Around then, Vivienne approached, took his fingertips, and tugged him lightly.
“Let’s go. If we go out now, we can find a place with a radio to listen.”
Edmund thought it wasn’t so bad to let her pull him along. Short, fleeting desires—he wanted to indulge her.
He had been told she was starved for love, treated her family as mere resources, and coldly ignored by her fiancé.
“The ones who truly deserve pity are my family.”
“Why?”
“Because they lost me.”
Could it really be true?
His gaze shifted from Vivienne’s frail-looking shoulders to the evening gown she wore—the same one from yesterday. She looked cold.
