The Serpent of Paradise - Chapter 68

The first formal dinner at Edenhurst with everyone gathered together ended before the final course was even served. The Countess behaved as though she couldn’t remain there any longer. Realizing what her mother wanted, Catherine said they would take their leave, supported the Countess, and hurried out of the dining room.

Before leaving, the Countess and Catherine turned to look at Anastasia where she sat. Their faces, which had always held nothing but contempt and disgust, now contained emotions she had never seen before. Sympathy and pity. And relief. Relief that they weren’t the ones being treated that way.

Anastasia, who struggled to turn her head to bid farewell to those leaving, immediately recognized the emotions that flickered across their faces for a brief moment. It was because neither the Countess nor Catherine had ever looked at her that way before.

Once the two of them left, Anastasia could no longer remain either. When Anastasia said she wished to return as well, Mikhail looked between her and Ilya, then said he understood and summoned Natasha, who was waiting outside.

“Escort her to the annex.”

“Yes.”

Still hanging her head deeply, Anastasia left the dining room like a criminal.

“….”

“….”

Neither of them spoke as they walked down the long corridor. When they passed through the main building and returned to the quiet annex, Natasha suddenly began rummaging through her pocket for something. What she took out was a shawl. It was so thin that when folded, it fit easily inside her pocket.

Natasha draped the shawl over Anastasia’s shoulders.

“Natasha?”

“You looked cold.”

Natasha gave the brief reply, then hurried Anastasia to her room. She bowed her head and spoke.

“I’ll be in the corridor, so please call me if you need anything.”

“….”

“Then….”

Natasha quickly closed the door and left. Alone in the lamp-lit room, Anastasia sank to the floor where she stood. When she felt along her arm, her fingers touched the shawl Natasha left with her. Though thin, it covered her shoulders perfectly well.

As Anastasia toyed with the shawl, she felt grateful that Natasha left the room more quickly than usual. The gazes pouring over her throughout the dinner left her heart in tatters. Even if someone only intended to help her, she didn’t want another person to see her like this.

Anastasia slowly rose. Even if her heart had collapsed, she didn’t want her body to remain crumpled on the floor as well.

She struggled into a chair. Her mind, dazed throughout the meal, gradually regained its composure in the silence.

‘I might simply be jumping to conclusions.’

Recalling Elizabeth’s words, Anastasia tried to calm herself. What Elizabeth said wasn’t particularly significant. Perhaps she was merely being polite because she was happy to see the former servants again. In truth, it was the Countess who despised horses. Hadn’t Elizabeth and Catherine been irritated that after the stables were shut down, they needed to borrow horses from the village whenever they wanted to use a carriage? She must have spoken lightly at the thought that things might become more convenient. But….

Anastasia couldn’t drive the memory of Elizabeth smiling at her from her mind.

Anastasia shook her head. Elizabeth didn’t mention the coachmen again afterward. As though she was no longer interested in them.

Anastasia clenched the shawl, then realized she was still wearing the plunging dress and rose from her seat. Mikhail had only ever given her good things. Beginning with the shoes he first gave her, there were clothes, food, a place to sleep. And Mikhail himself….

Whenever Anastasia embraced Mikhail, she felt the part of her heart that nothing else could fill becoming full. So full that if she could possess only one thing in the world, she would choose Mikhail. But… did Mikhail feel the same?

‘Of course not.’

Anastasia already knew the answer. She remembered the place where she sat in the dining room moments ago. The place for a possession. A dog or a slave.

‘What difference is there?’

She lived on what her master gave her, watched his every expression, and yearned for his affection and love with blind devotion. Anastasia bit her lip. Wasn’t that precisely how she lived now? What was even sadder was the fact that she didn’t dislike that position.

What Anastasia feared wasn’t becoming a dog. It was becoming a dog that wasn’t loved.

Even if it was foolish and pathetic, she couldn’t help it. For a serpent of Edenhurst like her to be at his side was already something like a miracle. Mikhail gave her more than enough simply by picking her up when she was such a wretched mess and caring for her this much. So if he ever took everything back, there was nothing she could do. Perhaps it was only natural. But….

Anastasia went to the corner of the room and looked at the shoes Natasha arranged there. She owned many pairs, but the ones Anastasia treasured most were the leather shoes he first gave her.

Something given could be taken back.

But how could someone take back a heart they had already given?

For a long time, Anastasia silently gazed at her most treasured shoes.

***

Mikhail sat alone in the annex drawing room, drinking vodka. The high-quality clear liquor filled the small glass. Mikhail tossed it back, then poured himself another. Even after more than five glasses, his breathing remained perfectly steady.

The liquor was meant to ward off the cold, so it didn’t take long for heat to spread through his body. Mikhail released a languid breath and slowly loosened the cravat wrapped around his neck.

Ordinarily, he would have gone straight to Anastasia’s room and undressed there. But he didn’t do that today. No, he couldn’t.

Mikhail looked at the door leading to the bedroom, then filled his glass with liquor again. He already had a high tolerance for alcohol, but tonight he found himself even less able to get drunk, allowing him to recall everything that happened during dinner with perfect clarity.

After Anastasia fled the table, the atmosphere in the dining room grew even more hostile. With Anastasia gone, Ilya made no attempt to hide his contempt for Mikhail.

“I see you’re exactly as I’ve heard.”

There couldn’t have been anything favorable among the rumors Ilya heard about him. Despite receiving Mikhail’s financial support, wasn’t the academy the kind of place that refused to grant him even a single honorary position because half his blood was lowborn?

Mikhail invested in the academy to develop new technology anyway, so he didn’t care. But Igor and Yuri constantly disparaged it, saying the academy only knew how to gorge itself and gave nothing in return.

Mikhail recalled Ilya’s face, which irritated him from the moment they first passed each other. Ilya was a young man who wasn’t skilled at concealing his emotions. Anastasia was the same.

“Tsk.”

Mikhail clicked his tongue. It irritated him that the two shared something in common. Especially something he himself lacked.

The bastard’s expression when Anastasia entered was quite a sight. At first, he looked surprised. Then he became indignant. As though he, rather than Anastasia, was the one being humiliated.

Mikhail initially felt satisfied as he watched Ilya’s face distort, but gradually began to feel displeased. The sight of him behaving as though he alone understood Anastasia irritated him.

‘I’ll have to send him away soon.’

Mikhail was the master of Edenhurst, after all. A guest unwelcome by the master couldn’t remain at the estate for long.

‘I shouldn’t accept any more.’

This was what happened after accepting just one guest. Who knew what he would have to witness if several more came? Then Mikhail thought of the Sokolov estate. He planned to take Anastasia to Sokolov as soon as possible. But….

Unable to drink the vodka remaining at the bottom, Mikhail slowly swirled the glass. A question suddenly occurred to him. Was taking Anastasia to Sokolov truly wise?

He made her a promise. He promised to take her to the Sokolov estate. And not only to Sokolov, but also to the academy, the capital, and Sokolov Harbor. Even farther, all the way to Ils.

“….”

The liquor circling the bottom of the glass gradually came to a stop.

Once she left Edenhurst and entered the wider world, Anastasia would meet many more people. Even now, she chattered happily whenever she discovered something new in a book. If they went to Sokolov together, how much would she boast all day about the wonders she experienced? And then, how many times would those lips, which called his name dozens of times each day, still speak his name?

Mikhail raised the glass and swallowed the remaining liquor in one gulp. It wasn’t even enough for a single mouthful, yet strangely, his throat felt exceptionally parched.

Even after emptying the entire bottle of vodka, Mikhail didn’t return to the bedroom. For the first time since he began staying in the annex with Anastasia, he didn’t sleep beside her.

***

After returning to the guest room, Ilya roughly stripped off his clothes and sat at the desk. The sight of Anastasia in the dining room and Mikhail’s shameless attitude kept resurfacing in his mind.

“Vulgar bastard….”

After covering Anastasia in his marks and seating her beside him, the gaze Mikhail directed at Ilya held a cold warning. A warning not to dare even look at the woman because she belonged wholly to him.

His insides burning, Ilya poured water into the glass beside him and gulped it down. But the burning only intensified. Ilya bit his lip and resented God. If only he came to Edenhurst a little sooner and saw Anastasia before Mikhail Sokolov did, she wouldn’t have been treated this way. He would have valued and cherished her more. If it were him….

After continuing with such pointless fantasies, Ilya dropped back into the chair.

‘But I did come here.’

Before Mikhail Sokolov swallowed Edenhurst, Ilya visited this estate several times. Yet he never saw Anastasia. Was it that he couldn’t see her, or that he didn’t want to see the foreign object within the Lauderdale family?

“….”

Ilya sat frozen for a long while. Then he noticed a letter lying on his desk. It appeared the underbutler left it there while he was at dinner. Suppressing his troubled thoughts, Ilya picked up the letter.

“Oh dear.”

Ilya sighed as he read it. The letter came from the academy. More precisely, from the head of his department.

The department head asked whether he arrived safely at the Edenhurst estate and wrote that their patron was extremely interested in the church records of the surrounding region, so Ilya should remain there for an extended period and frequently report the situation by letter. He also wrote that the patron once stayed at Edenhurst long ago and missed the place, so it would be appreciated if Ilya sent news of Edenhurst as well.

‘Is the patron someone who was acquainted with Count Lauderdale?’

If so, it made sense that he would ask Ilya about the circumstances at Edenhurst indirectly. Everyone had been unable to help the Lauderdales because of their enormous debts. Things quieted down after Mikhail acquired the Edenhurst territory, but since the Lauderdales didn’t even travel to the capital, no one would know their exact circumstances.

Ilya quickly began writing a letter that was half a report. Ordinarily, he wouldn’t have written with such diligence, but his hostility toward Mikhail drove him to compose a long, indignant letter. He wrote that every member of the Lauderdale family lived beneath Mikhail Sokolov, who wielded his wealth as a weapon, constantly watching his every expression. Because of that, the name of Lauderdale, a distinguished house in its own right, was being trampled beneath the feet of a vulgar merchant.

He also added a passage about Anastasia. He wrote that Mikhail Sokolov was toying with an innocent woman who knew nothing.

***

“Lord Pavel. A letter has arrived from the academy.”

“Give it to me.”

Pavel accepted the letter from the lord chamberlain while wearing a bathrobe that hung completely open at the front.

He entered the bedroom with the letter, sat on the edge of the bed, and tore it open. At the sound, the sleeping Empress Dowager stirred with a murmur.

“What is that?”

“A letter from the dog I sent to the countryside.”

“The one you sent to Mikhail Sokolov?”

“Yes.”

Pavel Rublov unfolded the letter with one hand while skillfully caressing the Empress Dowager’s body with the other. A coquettish voice once again flowed from her lips.

“It appears the rumors were true.”

“Wh-what rumors? Ah!”

“The rumor that Mikhail Sokolov is completely infatuated with a woman.”

“A L-Lauderdale wench?”

Without taking his eyes off the letter, Pavel applied more pressure with his hand.

“Stop! Pavel! Ah, ah!”

The Empress Dowager’s body shook violently, then went limp. Pavel looked at her and answered.

“Yes. She is a Lauderdale wench, but….”

Pavel’s eyes narrowed.

“Of all the scraps he could pick up and devour, it seems he chose something as lowly as himself.”