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53.
Zeppelin hesitated before finally speaking.
Quiet nights possessed a peculiar talent for coaxing out words one could never utter in daylight.
"Do you know why I despise this place?"
"I couldn't say."
"This is where Father ‌‌first struck me. That day, the lilac fragrance was suffocatingly intense. I was barely...."
"I'm not interested."
Zeppelin had been ‌‌‌‌attempting to extract his anguished past like a confession.
But Rebecca cut him off as if issuing a ‌‌decree ‌‌‌of expulsion.
A sharp smile settled at the corners of her lips.
"Zeppelin, I have no desire whatsoever to hear your story. Just as you never wondered about my feelings when you rendered me barren."
Her voice was monotone, devoid of inflection.
For a moment, Zeppelin thought she was condemning him.
Yet her eyes held neither hatred nor resentment.
Like ‌‌someone whose soul had been hollowed out, Rebecca's gaze was utterly vacant.
Her appearance struck him as unfamiliar.
He realized she had always worn such an expression, and he found himself staring blankly into her ‌‌‌empty eyes.
"You... knew?"
"How could ‌‌‌‌I not? Fabiola—your mother—screamed loud enough to shake the Estate."
Zeppelin's eyes clenched shut as the day's events flooded back, his hands pressing hard against them.
That woman—whom he could no longer bear to call mother—had shamelessly admitted her guilt.
"Because you won't look at me. If a child were born, wouldn't it be ‌‌‌obvious what you'd do to me?"
Brazenly, she had blamed him for everything ‌‌until the very end.
There had been a time when he pitied her. Her marriage to Father had not been her choice, after all.
Zeppelin knew that Fabiola had attempted to elope with her lover but failed, and had been sold into marriage to Father like chattel.
But that was then. Now Fabiola ‌‌was no different from Father himself.
A scoundrel intent on stealing what I cherish—a target to be eliminated without hesitation.
Zeppelin's eyes opened, burning with fierce intensity.
He had expelled Fabiola from House of Devon forever, reclaiming every Estate and lavish luxury he had ‌‌given her.
Whether that woman perished miserably ‌‌‌somewhere in her wanderings was of no concern to him.
Zeppelin glanced sideways at Rebecca.
Rebecca's expression was as detached as the air flowing between them.
He had known that if she—fragile as she was—learned of this, she would crumble. So he had said nothing. ‌‌
He thought he could not bear it if she wept before him in such a state.
Yet now, in this moment, he found himself wishing she would rage at him instead.
He had wanted a doll-like person, not a person-like doll.
Zeppelin wiped his face and asked her.
"Why... are you so unmoved?"
"What do you mean?"
"The dream between us has shattered. So why do you wear a face as if nothing has happened?"
Rebecca nearly let out a scoff.
Our dreams? What a notion.
You and I have never gazed upon the same horizon. We were never bound together by the word "we."
Rebecca turned her face away slowly.
"Does anger and tears change anything?"
"What?"
"Unless I can turn back time, what has happened to me will not disappear. Even if I could turn back time, it would likely remain the same...."
"Rebecca!"
Fearing she would vanish in an instant, Zeppelin grasped her shoulders with both hands as if clutching at a fading afterimage.
But the scorching heat of blisters rising through the thin fabric seared his palms, and he jerked his hands away in shock.
"Ah."
Zeppelin stared down at his own hands in bewilderment.
He was mortified that he had revealed his reluctance ‌‌‌‌to touch her so openly.
And simultaneously, revulsion toward her disfigured form surfaced, leaving him utterly uncertain what expression to wear.
Rebecca smiled faintly upon seeing the cold sweat trickling down Zeppelin's brow.
"Just accept it. The woman you loved no longer exists."
Rebecca rose from her seat.
And finally, she knelt before his feet and pleaded.
"So please, abandon me."
"Rebecca, what are you saying.... How could I ever abandon you!"
"No. You can. Because I love you, Zeppelin. I will leave gladly for your sake."
Rebecca murmured still, her eyes devoid of focus.
Her voice whispering of love rang out meaninglessly, as if sound were being ‌played back from ‌‌‌a mechanical recording.
"My love. To protect you, I must take myself away from you. Please, dispose of me now."
Rebecca Devonshire, who had loved Zeppelin Devonshire, burned fiercely like the final day of her previous life. ‌‌‌‌
In the blue depths of Zeppelin's vacant gaze, she wished to become ash and disappear.
Zeppelin, awakened from hell, blinked his long lashes.
Deep shadows hung beneath his eyes. It seemed he had simply collapsed into sleep after returning from the Garden.
"You have awakened."
Octavio greeted him with a faint smile. ‌
Zeppelin blinked his drowsy eyes still heavy with sleep and spoke haltingly.
"I had a terrible dream. They said Rebecca was barren. That cannot be. My perfect wife ‌‌could never be such a thing."
"Unfortunately...."
Octavio paused briefly, then spoke with deliberate clarity, as if etching his words into Zeppelin's ears.
"It is not a dream. You will never see an heir through Rebecca."
"That is a lie!"
Zeppelin ‌squeezed his eyes shut.
It had to be a dream. It could only be a dream.
'Please, abandon me.'
That voice Rebecca had whispered—it was all a dream.
When the sun rose tomorrow morning, Rebecca would greet him with that beautiful smile of hers, no different from any other day.
It had to be that way....
Zeppelin spoke with a trembling voice.
"What am I supposed to do now? I've never even imagined a life without her. Octavio, you've always given me wise counsel—surely you know a way out of this?"
A cunning smile seeped into Octavio's lips.
He wished to be that single ray of light shining into Zeppelin's otherwise dim existence.
Ever since meeting Rebecca, Zeppelin had laughed like a boy lying in the warm sunshine.
Octavio had never approved of that.
But now that eternal sun was setting.
The age of night was approaching.
Octavio pulled the cord of the lamp.
The bulb flickered several times before finally illuminating brightly. The light passed through the lampshade, casting a soft crimson glow.
Zeppelin ‌‌‌flinched at the sudden brightness, his brow furrowing in discomfort.
"You need only continue as you have been, my lord. Just as I taught you."
"You're telling me to abandon Rebecca."
"Whether people or objects, once they've served their purpose, it's only natural to dispose of them. ‌‌‌‌If something offends the eye, simply remove it. There are always new things to be found."
Zeppelin covered his eyes with his forearm.
He spoke with hesitation clinging heavily to his words.
"But I love Rebecca. ‌‌‌What ‌‌could possibly replace love?" ‌‌
Octavio swallowed his scorn and answered calmly.
"What exactly did you love about Rebecca, my lord?"
At his question, Zeppelin searched his memories.
Though the recollection had grown distant ‌‌and faded, it was enough to make him smile.
"Her hair shattering in the ‌‌sunlight, that ‌‌beautiful voice calling my name, the perfect nose ‌‌‌and lips that mirror my own, and those eyes that captivate me so completely I cannot look away...."
"How touching. But where ‌‌‌‌has all of that gone now?"
"...."
"You do not love Rebecca, my lord. You loved her. And love that has become the past has likewise outlived its usefulness and must be discarded. Only then can you move forward."
"My future has always ‌been Rebecca. How can I move ‌‌forward without her?"
"Surely not. Was your dream not your own beautiful kingdom, rather than Rebecca? If I may be so bold, there are certainly women more beautiful than Rebecca. It will take some time, but I shall procure ‌‌one for you."
Zeppelin fell silent for a moment.
Octavio did not press him. He simply held a cunning smile at the corners of his mouth, waiting patiently until the words took a form he could swallow.
"Still, for now... I don't think I'll need that."
"Of ‌‌‌course. You have much to attend to at present, do you not? And there is also the child soon to be born."
"My child...." ‌‌
"One never knows. Alicia may bear you a daughter who is your very image."
"Even though it's not Rebecca's child?"
"What does it matter whose womb briefly ‌‌‌housed it? What matters is that your blood flows through its veins. Imagine it—another beautiful ‌‌‌‌life in this world, one that mirrors ‌you perfectly."
A faint smile gradually spread across Zeppelin's lips.
Even if the child were not Rebecca's, it ‌‌seemed not so terrible to walk through his kingdom hand in hand with a second generation bearing his likeness.
Seeing his smile, Octavio bent ‌‌‌one knee.
He pulled the blanket up to Zeppelin's neck and covered both of his ears with his hands.
It was what Octavio had always done ‌‌‌whenever Zeppelin, who had feared thunder since ‌‌childhood, grew frightened.
Strangely, being treated like a child didn't anger him.
Zeppelin stared up at Octavio blankly.
Octavio smiled, revealing a particularly sharp canine tooth.
"Fortify your heart. Let no one ‌‌‌‌open that door. If you desire something, take it. If you have no need for it, discard it. And if you cannot ‌‌possess it, destroy it—ensure that no one else can claim it either."
"If I have no need for it, I can just discard it...."
Zeppelin burrowed into the blanket.
Hidden within the sumptuous layers of quilted fabric, he looked like an appetizing main course.
Octavio licked his lips and lit ‌‌‌‌‌the scented candle.
Before ‌‌‌‌long, a subtle fragrance permeated the room.
Soon, the sound of Zeppelin's breathing grew rhythmic and ‌‌‌steady.
Octavio watched the blanket enveloping him rise and fall until the candle burned away completely.
It was a sight that ‌‌‌never grew tiresome.
* * *
Sunlight streamed through, and Zeppelin opened ‌‌‌his eyes. He had slept in late for once.
He sat at the edge of the bed for a moment, his expression vacant.
Feeling disconnected from reality, he clenched and unclenched his fists several times.
Soon he rose and habitually made his way to the ‌‌‍‌‌‌‌‌mirror room.
And he was startled by what he saw.
His ‌‌‌‌‌dazzling appearance remained unchanged, yet his eyes perceived what he had lost more keenly than ‌‌what beauty he held in his grasp.
A single blemish had sprouted abruptly beneath his chin.
Zeppelin felt a sudden chill of dread.
He was seized by worry that Rebecca's illness might be contagious.
Though it was merely a simple blemish, he had scarcely ever suffered from ‌‌‌‌blemishes even during adolescence, so this was nothing ‌short of catastrophic.
The Runaway Countess Returns
E-book Publication

January 12, 2022
Author

Ginbamhaneul
Publisher

Desert ‌Fox
Publishing House

Woongjin ThinkBig Co., Ltd.
Submission Received

naver.me/54VzzLSn
Blog.

blog.naver.com/wj_fennecfox
Twitter.

@wjt_fennecfox

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