03. The others
Carynne loves Raymond.
But as time passed and she started to become disconnected from everyone except Raymond, Carynne had more time to think.
Did love mean that they had to be alone together?
Would things really change after one year?
There was no such thing as a world inside a novel.
But Carynne still felt like she was inside it.
This time, however, there were now two people trapped there.
* * *
The catalyst was a fingernail.
Raymond didn’t say who the owner of that fingernail was. He seemed like he might tell her the truth if she’d just push him, but Carynne didn’t want to.
Discovering her fingernail didn’t change anything.
Raymond casually accepted her question and said it was necessary, then cut it off.
After that, Carynne couldn’t find anything strange, and Raymond didn’t give himself away. Even without talking about it, their conversations flowed smoothly, and the scenery around them was peaceful.
There were many things better left unspoken.
Right now, they were lovers who were madly in love with each other, but a year from now, they might be people separated by death again. They didn’t want to make things uncomfortable with unnecessary conflicts.
Carynne felt that way, and so did Raymond.
Time flowed as it always did, neither too fast nor too slow.
The early summer had arrived. The roses at the Tes Mansion bloomed magnificently, just as Isella used to boast.
It was a radiant summer.
The lushly blooming roses remained beautiful even in the owner’s indifference, and there were still various breeds like a tribute to the deceased mistress.
Among them, the prominently blooming roses stood out. The outer petals were white, and the inner petals were red.
It was the first time she was seeing this kind of rose. After making a wreath out of the roses, from a distance, it resembled a crown in its beauty.
The harmony of pale pink petals, not bright red, and gentle white petals was incredibly beautiful. Carynne plucked one of the roses and shook off a small insect that clung to it.
Despite the beauty of the roses, their lack of care was evident. Faint traces of leaves being nibbled by insects were visible, and there were many weeds mixed in. The branches were also untrimmed.
Still, this touch of wildness added to their charm. It wasn’t bad at all. For now.
With insects present, old-fashioned clothing, and limited cosmetics, this place still exuded peace. So, there was no need to worry.
But Carynne kept thinking about one person who continued to gnaw at her mind, no matter how much she tried to shake it off, like the bugs in this rose garden.
Is Isella Evans still missing?
Carynne didn’t like Isella, but she didn’t hate her either. After all, what was the point of getting angry at a fictional character? That was her creed.
Even when her father got swindled by that man and lost all his property.
Even when she became a maid for a young woman who was, hierarchically speaking, supposed to be Carynne’s maid instead.
Even when she got slapped for mere soup getting cold, or when she had to endure the sticky hands of middle-aged men, or when she worked day and night until she collapsed while walking.
It’s okay. It’s okay.
She didn’t hate. She didn’t love. She wasn’t afraid. She wasn’t sad.
Everything was a part of the story. She had the conviction that, as time passed, she would eventually reach ‘the end’ and return to her place. That was the only thing she sought.
She would repeat the cycle. She wouldn’t regret. She thought that this was natural.
Right now, everything has come alive once again.
Donna was once again a laundry maid who couldn’t do her job well, and Tom was probably getting a beating from Thomas right now.
But Carynne couldn’t understand why Isella kept bothering her so much.
No, maybe this, too, was only natural.
If Carynne were the heroine of a romance novel, wasn’t Isella just a supporting character?
The supporting character who causes trouble for the heroine until the end and then exits disgracefully. An ending that suits her.
“Do you like my necklace?”
“You’re my maid right now!”
“How dare you… How… How dare…”
Isella was jealous of Carynne. It was blatant. Starting with trying to capture Raymond’s attention, then drawing people’s attention in social circles, and just moving around and smiling.
Carynne couldn’t comprehend it.
In the end, it was just about outward appearance. Just because she had the tendency to draw people’s attention.
Carynne had no money, and she had no powerful parents. Even if she became Verdic’s legitimate daughter, nothing changed. Verdic ruthlessly whipped her, his non-biological daughter, and when Isella woke up, he eventually led Carynne to her death.
All that remained for Carynne was Raymond’s sympathy. Because of that, Verdic killed Carynne dozens of times more.
Carynne thought about the fingernail.
She looked at her own fingernail. It was hard to tell. Someone had pulled out that fingernail.
Raymond had pulled it out. To obtain information. Or perhaps to vent his frustrations.
Isella was missing.
Was Isella the owner of the fingernail?
But, what’s wrong with that?
Even if Raymond loved Carynne, needed her, and pulled someone’s fingernail for that reason, why should Carynne blame Raymond? Why should she be surprised by it?
However, Carynne found the idea that Isella might be the owner of that fingernail strangely uncomfortable.
Why was this thought so unsettling?
She was okay about being inside a novel.
She was okay with coming back to life.
She was okay about having died several times.
However…
Isella never once killed Carynne.
“The offspring are also guilty, Carynne. Everyone is influenced by their parents. They inherit wealth and a name, so why do you think they shouldn’t inherit crimes? And if they grew up under such a person, it’s obvious. That child will become a criminal too.”
Isella looked at Carynne pitifully as she said this. Carynne had this thought back then—Would Isella accept the same fate if the same situation happened to her?
Isella’s father, Verdic Evans, killed Carynne Hare several times.
So, did Raymond kill Isella? Would Isella accept the death that’s brought upon her?
Of course not. Just like everyone else. Raymond was the exception, and Carynne thought that was enough.
But the idea of Isella Evans being tortured and killed by Raymond was something she was unexpectedly uncomfortable about.
If Carynne had personally killed Isella, she wouldn’t have felt bad. She would have felt even more thrilled if she had done it in front of Verdic, too.
And yet, the assumption that Raymond had tortured and killed Isella was strangely uncomfortable to her.
What’s the difference? Carynne continued to ponder. All she could do, in this mansion where there were only two of them, was think.
Then, she reached an immature conclusion.
She’d been dismissing so many things due to the premise that this world was inside a novel, yet she herself had already admitted that the world was, in fact, not inside a novel.
This was about real people now.
She was a human being, and Isella was a human being, too.
And Isella, in the end, was one rare human being who had never killed Carynne even once.
“…Haa.”
But Carynne sighed with her eyes closed. She couldn’t make heads or tails of this at all. Who was she sympathizing with?
Ultimately, this was also merely unnecessary and cheap sympathy, or perhaps her own amusement, which was something she didn’t need to think about. This was a luxurious surplus of emotion.
Carynne sighed.
She had spent too much time with Isella, that was clear.
But her contemplation was very brief. In this life too, there was peace for a while, but eventually time would pass, and events would unfold.
She listened to the song of a mockingbird. The scent of roses wafted in the air. The poetry book she had been holding was lying beside her.
“……”
Carynne realized that she was lying on a bench in the garden, having apparently dozed off. Her mind was foggy, and she slowly opened her eyes.
She sensed someone’s presence.
And it wasn’t just anyone—it was still Raymond. His golden hair glistened in the sunset.
However, he wasn’t acting quite normally.
Carynne wondered if she had fallen asleep and he might not have been able to wake her up. But even if that were the case, Raymond seemed to be acting too strange.
‘…What’s going on with him?’
Raymond either didn’t notice Carynne’s gaze or was preoccupied elsewhere.
But he wasn’t doing anything in particular. He wasn’t speaking, and he wasn’t watching. Raymond was just restlessly pacing around Carynne.
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