CHAPTER 38
Translator: Rae
₊˚ ✧ ━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━ ✧ ₊˚
Around that time, Jasper Lawton appeared frequently in society as though flaunting his young and beautiful wife.
At times, he would display her proudly before others as though she were a trophy, sometimes he would keep her openly tucked against his side as if handling a cherished pet.
That such a thing had been the life she wanted was laughable. The status she had betrayed him to obtain was nothing more than the position of an old man’s second wife.
And yet, once she had it in her hands, she did not look happy in the slightest, and yet, she made no attempt to escape that life. As though the free-spirited girl he had loved had been nothing but an illusion, she willingly surrendered herself to that vegetative existence.
It was not difficult to stand by and do nothing about her life.
All he had to do was turn his eyes away and remain silent, just as she had done to him; it was as easy as lifting a finger.
But every time her unhappiness became visible, conflicting feelings coiled in his chest: a fleeting sense of relief, followed by revulsion.
Like a thorn lodged deep in his heart, the more he tried to seize her and pull her free, the deeper she drove into his flesh. At times, he was so disgusted with himself that he felt the urge to vomit.
Even the scraps of news about her that reached him against his will only lit the fuse of that impulse.
“My wife has not been in good health, you see. I’ve decided to send her away to recuperate for a while. I had thought of sending her to her family at first, but commendably enough, she now says that this count’s house is her home.”
That man, like an old serpent, took particular pleasure in provoking Edmund. Using Edmund’s position as her “stepbrother” as an excuse, he aggressively rattled off updates about her whenever she was out of sight.
As though he knew that merely speaking her name aloud was enough to break him with ease.
And in that way, he shook him violently, making it impossible to ever truly forget that woman.
“Young Duke, I have joyous news for you. Truly, I never imagined such a blessing would come to me in my later years. The last time, I thought she was simply unwell…”
By now, he could no longer clearly recall what emotion he had felt then.
Had it been disgust? Or indifference? Or perhaps emptiness?
“This time, I think I really shall send her to her family. She’s no longer alone, after all, so wouldn’t it be better for her to receive care among her kin? What do you think?”
Whatever he had felt, it must have been as meaningless and hollow as that sham of a “family” relationship between him and her.
After that day, Edmund turned his back on the capital once more and returned to where he belonged. Living as a soldier rather than a noble, he could at least avoid being endlessly tormented by feelings he did not want.
But he knew himself well. In the end, he would think of her again. As though the mind held clues that summoned memories whether one wished it or not.
In the year when both his marriage to the princess and his promotion lay ahead of him, a mysterious secret letter arrived for him. It was an intelligence report exposing, in excessive detail, a treasonous conspiracy by the anti-royalist faction.
At its center stood Jasper Lawton, the sole surviving member of the former royal line.
But what seized his attention was neither that man’s name nor the shocking nature of the conspiracy.
It was the handwriting in the letter. Though it looked deliberately scrawled in a careless hand, the distinctive curves that showed through here and there were traces of the woman he had loved more than anyone.
In the same year, Rose made contact with him for the first time, hiding her name, her feelings, and her whereabouts all behind that letter.
“...”
Edmund broke the silence with a crooked smile that came without resistance. By the time his long recollection ended, the quiet bedroom had filled with dawn light.
At last, moving his motionless body, he sat soundlessly at the bedside. He gazed intently at her tightly shut eyelids, then reached out without hesitation.
He gathered a handful of her red hair, softly spilled across the bedding, and impulsively pressed his lips to a trailing strand. The seductive scent of roses pierced his senses as though to numb them.
As though reminding him that the woman before his eyes was no longer buried within those old memories alone.
“Yes. You’re here.”
And this time, I will never be deceived by you. Toward the silent woman, Edmund wore a gentle, cold smile.
“So it would be better for you to come to desire me as well.”
His voice, fragile as though something inside it had cracked, settled secretly over her sleeping form.
“I’ll help make that happen, Rose.”
Even if the rose must be shattered and ground to dust, in this life he would have to hold it in his hand.
***
The softly falling snow turned the front yard of the ducal estate white.
Resting her elbows on the window frame, Rozella found her gaze completely stolen by the snow-white garden.
It was the first snow of the year. The sight of falling snow was beautiful, but ever since childhood, winter had never been a season she particularly
liked.
When she was cold, her body easily fell ill, and when she fell ill, she became sorrowful and lonely.
Most of all, everything she loved disappeared during winter: the little animals of the forest, the streams of water leaping from the fountain, even the trees and flowers gone pale and withered.
And... Edmund.
Come to think of it, this was her first time passing through winter with him. Edmund in summer was familiar to her, but Edmund in winter felt a little strange.
Thinking that, Rozella soon looked somewhere into the garden and smiled faintly.
She could see two cats leisurely strolling through the wide garden in the front yard. She had heard they had been given shelter in a little hut behind the servants’ quarters for the winter, but it seemed they had already run away from home.
Rozella rose from the sofa. She wanted to play with the cats for the first time in a while, and she also wanted to stand in the falling snow. She had no particular plans today, after all.
Taking a thick coat from the dressing room and putting it on, Rozella hurried out of the bedroom. The moment she left the manor, still full of the fireplace’s warmth, a cold too harsh even for her coat came rushing over her.
Entering the garden, Rozella spotted a tail vanishing behind a frozen statue and quickened her steps. But when she strode around the statue, the cat was already lying at someone else’s feet. Looking at the smooth leather boots, Rozella slowly lifted her gaze. Her golden eyes widened, then gently curved.
"Ed."
As if in answer, Edmund lifted the corners of his mouth and took a few steps closer to Rozella. The cat rolling about at his feet let out a rumbling purr.
“You’re home early today.”
"Yes."
He was still dressed for his outing attire, as if he had only just arrived at the estate. The dark gray tie layered neatly beneath his wool coat framed the line of his neck with tidy elegance.
“As I was getting out of the carriage, I saw these two passing by.”
After adding that explanation, Edmund also quietly looked Rozella over.
“It’s cold out, and yet you didn’t dress any warmer.”
Removing his leather gloves, he naturally drew her hand into his. The man’s hand, large enough to envelop her small one completely, was exceedingly warm.
“It’s just… because this is the first snow of the year, I wanted to commemorate it a little.”
Rozella answered, her cheeks reddening awkwardly. She worried it might sound childish, but his hand only slipped more deeply between her fingers.
"The first snow. I see.”
As though realizing something, Edmund lifted his gaze to the sky. Standing against the backdrop of pure white snow, he looked very beautiful. And somehow, strangely subtle.
The figure most familiar to her was that of a fresh, sunlit boy standing beneath the warm summer light. Then why did the sight of him beneath the winter sun feel so unbearably dear?
At that feeling, which came over her all at once, Rozella’s heart thudded low in her chest. She lowered her eyes to their clasped hands, then looked up at him again—only to meet his gaze as he had already lowered his head toward her.
Was it just her imagination? It seemed as though the same emotion she felt was carried in his enigmatic green eyes as well.
“You said you’d be attending the charity party next weekend, didn’t you?”
At the sudden question, Rozella blinked her dazed eyes, then hurriedly nodded.
“Ah, yes. It’s a party hosted by Lady Dickinson.”
Edmund, who had seemed to be weighing something in his mind, answered gravely.
“I would rather accompany you, but I have an important engagement that day which I cannot easily miss.”
Brushing lightly over her knuckles, he apologized—needlessly so.
"I'm sorry. Will you understand?"
Rozella shook her head vigorously and answered with deliberate cheer.
“Of course. Please don’t apologize. State affairs should naturally come first.”
When she smiled as if to reassure him, Edmund gently brushed a snowflake from her cheek with his other hand. The touch that passed over her skin was as warm as his gaze.
“Even so, you’ll need an escort. I’ll send Adam as your guard.”
"Sir Mason?"
Adam was the aide who attended Edmund most closely.
She wondered whether it was really all right to take up his time so readily for her own schedule, but because it was Edmund’s suggestion, she felt it must be fine.
“Yes, all right.”
Satisfied, Edmund withdrew his gaze and soon began to walk. As she strolled through the garden after him, the snowfall began to lighten.
Looking up at the pretty snowflakes drifting down, Rozella felt grateful that she could share this first snow with Edmund.
Even knowing that this happiness, so far beyond what she deserved, would someday come to an end, she wanted to lean on this selfish heart of hers for now.
“You said it was the first snow.”
When his calm voice sounded beside her, Rozella lifted her head. Edmund, too, was watching the snowflakes drifting down in bright disarray.
"Actually, this isn’t the first snow we’ve seen together.”
Rozella, who had been docilely matching her steps to his, tilted her head.
Surely this was the first time she had ever welcomed winter with him. Had he perhaps confused it with some other memory?
A cold wind swept once between them. Rozella’s red hair, tousled by the breeze, fell across her vision. When she hurriedly brushed the scattered strands aside, the man revealed once more before her was no longer smiling.
For a moment, his expression looked hollow. It lasted only an instant, so perhaps she had merely imagined it that way.
"Ed?"
When Rozella spoke cautiously, his eyes finally turned toward her. His soft voice settled by her ear as though nothing at all had happened.
“Come. It looks like it will be dark soon.”
His hand tightened around hers hard enough to hurt for a fleeting moment, then slowly loosened. As he gently led her along, Rozella closed the lips that had been about to speak.
Silence settled between them. Large and small footprints marked the traces of the two of them, only to be quickly covered over by snow again and again.
***
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