What Remains at the End of Regret - Chapter 27

“From the spring I first saw you until now, and forevermore, I will love you.”

Each word, each syllable. The truth he had wanted to say countless times, but swallowed down with a hot breath.

“So, I’m really happy. That I can finally say you’re mine with pride.”

The confession he had prepared so many times didn’t come out as smoothly as he had imagined.

He could feel his heart pounding excessively, so much so that he was worried it might actually burst out of his chest.

“How about you?”

I love you. I’m in love with you.

“Do you love me, even a little?”

It’s not friendship, Vivian. I, with all my heart, am—

“I want to hear it from your lips.”

I love you.

“Vivian, will you marry me?”

In the blue garden, where the sound of a gentle breeze mingled, Vivian’s confused eyes locked with Hayden’s gaze.

The swaying wind softly ruffled her long, wavy hair. A silence where even breaths couldn’t be heard flowed slowly.

The bittersweet scent of black tea lingered on her tongue. Her throat, growing drier and drier, felt parched.

As time passed and the cool breeze completely died down, Hayden slowly raised the corners of his lips.

“You don’t have to answer right away.”

“No! It’s not that I can’t answer, it’s just—”

“You’re going to marry me anyway.”

To lighten the somewhat heavy atmosphere, Hayden uttered a playful remark.

Vivian was confused, but he could read an apologetic expression in her all-too-familiar face.

Hayden smiled faintly.

Even a little bit of your heart, please.

Look at me with love, not friendship.

That was all he wished for.

＊ ＊ ＊

“Boring.”

Edmund, with a cigarette between his fingers, took a deep drag. He savored the flavor, feeling the hot pleasure travel down his throat. Slowly, very leisurely.

His gray eyes, gazing up at the ceiling, betrayed an unerasable boredom.

The only benefit he had gained from serving in the navy. Smoking, which he had started while mingling with burly soldiers since his officer days, had become a habit.

An excellent way to discharge his hidden, dark desires. Cigarettes served as a kind of stress reliever.

After releasing the complex thoughts that were difficult to express in words into the smoke, the frustration became somewhat bearable.

Edmund, recalling the rare sight of his father with a cigarette in his mouth, opened his lips and slowly exhaled the smoke.

If he were to evaluate Albert Lockberg as the head of the family, Edmund would willingly give him a score close to perfect. He was a remarkably talented man, with a natural business sense and strategy that had firmly established the foundation of the massive Lockberg family enterprise.

But if he were to evaluate his father, the late Duke, as a son, the answer was negative.

There was no way he could look favorably upon a father who had merely watched and neglected his abused son.

He couldn’t forget the chilling sensation of the slender hand gripping his throat. The image of the woman, half-crazed with a distorted face, strangling her son, was buried deep in his subconscious like a thorn that wouldn’t come out, bringing a dirty feeling from time to time even after he had fully grown up.

That woman was loved by Albert Lockberg.

What happened to his father?

The woman who had tried to kill her son eventually strangled herself with her own hands. In front of her son’s eyes. Edmund clearly remembered the woman, his mother, gasping for breath as her eyes rolled back in her head.

Even the bizarre smile she had worn just before her death, he remembered it all.

His mother had loved another man her whole life. The memories of his mother, who had loved a man she could never reach until her death, were always similar. A woman like a doll, always ruined by drugs and alcohol. The cause of death of his father, who had loved such a woman, was suicide by gunshot.

That’s why he didn’t believe in it.

Emotions like love.

He didn’t know.

Edmund, having finished the last few puffs of his cigarette, stubbed out the remaining inch in the ashtray. The fingers extinguishing the flame were precise and refined.

Felix’s gaze, fixed on Edmund, narrowed with unbearable boredom.

“I expected it, but there’s even less to see than I thought.”

As Felix had said, this place was quiet and boring. So peaceful that it was hard to believe. It must have felt even more dull to Felix, who had just returned from the fierce Black Sea front.

As expected, Felix, who had been touring Foberg for a few days, soon lost interest and grumbled, complaining. It was because he couldn’t find anything else to attract his attention.

“We should throw a party or something. It’s too boring to bear.”

You’ll allow it, right? Edmund, who had been indifferently answering Felix, who was looking at him as if asking that question, straightened his loosened shirt.

“Do as you please.”

“Yes!” Felix, clenching his fist and shaking it slightly, finally got excited and stood up.

The silver coin that had been tossed into the air spun in the air with a clear and cheerful sound. Felix, catching the falling coin, smiled contentedly.

Felix, who had begun to raise his voice while listing the people to invite, insisted that they must invite Catherine von Werberossa, the only daughter of Grand Duke Francis, who was famous for being beautiful and elegant and had captivated Litten’s high society.

Edmund, who had completely ignored Felix’s words, who seemed to have regained his energy as if he had achieved his goal, got up from the sofa and walked to the window. Edmund’s eyebrows twitched as he slightly pulled back the curtains that had been drawn to block the sunlight.

A four-wheeled carriage, almost extinct in Litten.

A carriage that would relieve his boredom was approaching the entrance of the mansion, making the sound of horses’ hooves.

“Shouldn’t you be looking for a bride soon? Look carefully this time. If it’s Lockberg, there will be lines stretching all the way to that sea.”

His cousin’s seat, who should already have a fiancée, was still empty. Even Felix, who was serving on the Black Sea front, had a fiancée. With the name of Lockebrg, he should have been engaged long ago, but Edmund didn’t seem to be interested in such things.

Of course, Felix, who was maintaining a rather formal relationship with his fiancée, was rather envious of his cousin, who was enjoying his freedom to the fullest, so it wasn’t that he couldn’t understand. He also knew about his cousin’s unstable times.

Felix, approaching Edmund, put his arm around his stiff shoulder and swaggered.

“Or do you have a hidden lover?”

Felix’s gaze followed Edmund’s to the carriage outside the window.

“Get rid of it.”

Edmund, looking coldly down at the heavy arm on his shoulder, commanded coldly.

“Okay, okay.”

Felix, who wasn’t stupid enough not to feel the murderous intent in his eyes, immediately backed down. Tch, how picky.

Felix, staring silently at Edmund’s back as he turned around and left the room, cursed at the unlucky back of his head just as he was about to disappear completely. A heartless cousin with no blood or tears.

But soon, Felix shrugged his shoulders and stretched out on the sofa again.

He had gotten what he wanted, so it could be considered a successful outcome. Should he go back to sleep? The boring countryside had amazing sunshine.

His body, which had been working night shifts like eating meals, had been drooping ever since he came to Foberg. Today was no exception.

He should take a nap with the gentle sunlight and the sound of lapping waves as a lullaby. Felix, folding his arms and closing his eyes, soon had his breath evenly filling the room.

＊ ＊ ＊

Edmund, opening the door to the greenhouse, strode to the table in the center and took a seat. The greenhouse was damp, as if the sprinklers had already been activated. The familiar scent of daisies permeated the air amidst the fresh smell of grass.

He intended to wait patiently until Vivian arrived. Edmund, crossing his legs and holding a book in one hand, quietly turned the pages and absorbed the words.

The gardener, whom he had encountered before entering the greenhouse, had rushed up to him and bowed. He had been about to pass by, but suddenly stopping and asking was an unlikeable action.

“Is there a lot to do?”

“Yes, yes? If it’s the garden, it’s not small, but I can’t do it—”

“Never mind that. The greenhouse.”

“Ah, the greenhouse. Since the Lady Dowager has been ill, the Young Lady has not been able to come… I have done most of the necessary work. I heard that she will be arriving soon, but there will be little to do.”

The gardener replied calmly.

“Thank you for your hard work. You may go now.”

After obtaining the desired information, Edmund immediately walked towards his destination.

Into the glass greenhouse, into the large cage that would bind Vivian Mabel’s legs.

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