Chapter 59
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 59
“You look like an angel!”
“Yes! Mary did a wonderful job!”
“You look like a fairy!”
“Exactly!”
Artemisia and the young child sang her praises in unison. Evangeline watched their chatter with an uncharacteristically soft expression, as if listening to the chirping of birds.
It was her usual, arrogant indifference, yet Gabriel felt a faint warmth radiating from her. Perhaps it was just his imagination.
Seeing her being fitted for a dress like an ordinary noblewoman, indulging a young child’s excited chatter, made him feel as if he were looking at the real, complete Evangeline Rohanson.
Lady Rohanson seemed to be growing more comfortable in her human guise. To be precise, she was becoming more like ‘Evangeline Rohanson.’ Or perhaps Gabriel was simply falling under her spell, and that was why he perceived her this way.
Noticing Gabriel lost in thought, Schmitiana put him on the spot.
“Now, Sir! You know what to say, don’t you?”
His impression? The examples the other two had given were the most beautiful nouns in the world. Fairies, angels… Gabriel wracked his brain for something they hadn’t used yet, and a familiar phrase came to mind. It was triggered by the word “angel” Mary had just mentioned.
Of all the words written on the white slip of paper found in the ashes of Donau’s remains, the most memorable was “Angel of Light.” No phrase could describe Evangeline Rohanson better. Since “angel” had already been taken, only one part remained.
“Lady Rohanson is like the brightest star.”
Light, in the most literal sense. He had called her the brightest star, but that description required further elaboration.
Evangeline Rohanson was a star that shone with an uncanny brilliance. Of all the things that rose in the sun’s absence, could any shine brighter than her?
“We’ll leave you two to it! Have a wonderful time.”
Wearing a sly grin, as if she were up to something, Schmitiana ushered the other two out of the room.
The door, briefly opened, clicked shut. Cut off from the outside world, only Gabriel and Evangeline remained.
“Would you care for a dance?”
This time, Gabriel was the first to extend his hand. Though he didn’t know why she had requested a dance, it was a welcome opportunity to hold her hand again. His body temperature ran high; perhaps, if he held her hand long enough, her chill would finally dissipate.
“One dance won’t be enough.”
She had claimed she needed a practice partner, that she had never danced before and feared making a mistake. Yet, there was no way Evangeline hadn’t already memorized the steps. She possessed an exceptional memory for anything that caught her interest or was deemed necessary to learn.
Of course, getting inside that boundary of her interest was notoriously difficult. Just recently, Michel had wept into his pillow because Lady Rohanson had failed to recognize him.
“I would be delighted to accompany you for as long as you wish.”
Her reason for requesting a dance, then, must be to fully immerse herself in the role of ‘Evangeline Rohanson.’
Why did this Light wear the guise of Evangeline Rohanson? He couldn’t begin to fathom the sheer patience required for a being that looked down on humanity to play at being human.
Gabriel placed his hand on her waist and assumed the starting position. He felt a profound sense of gratification as she leaned into him.
There was no music. Yet, if a melody were playing right now, it would undoubtedly be a dirge for Gabriel.
While Evangeline was trying on her dress, the sun had set, and darkness now pooled beyond the windows. Noting the late hour, Daisy had drawn the heavy curtains shut.
With the curtains drawn, the room grew even dimmer. In this darkened world, Evangeline alone shone with absolute brilliance. It was as if she monopolized all the light, causing her surroundings to sink into deeper shadow while she, the star, stood out all the more.
Gabriel likened himself to a dark ring orbiting that star. Though stripped of his own light, he could not tear his eyes away, doomed to hover endlessly by her side.
It seems this is what happens when one lays eyes upon you.
And he was not the only one. Even those who had once trembled in sheer terror never thought of leaving once they stepped into the garden Evangeline cultivated. Her cherished maids, the children she had rescued, Michel, and even Schmitiana—all of them had turned their backs on the sun they once worshiped, gazing instead at this singular light.
“My convictions…”
“…my philosophy…”
“…and my ideals.”
Everything he had built since the day he was born felt utterly futile.
“It’s as if you’re rebuilding the world from scratch, entirely to your whim.”
Such was the gravity of her influence. It felt as if a new compass had been forged.
Were it not for her, Gabriel would never have paid heed to a being that defied all reason. Were it not for her, Daisy would never have returned to the Rohanson Mansion. And Schmitiana would never have abandoned her long-held artistic principles to tailor maid uniforms so far removed from her usual tastes.
“That sounds rather like a confession.”
Evangeline spoke with a thoroughly unimpressed expression.
A confession… It was hardly born of a warm, fluttering heart. Gabriel himself could not put a name to the feeling. Was it dread, or was it terror? Whenever he was with her, a chill ran down his spine, as if he were staring at an alien entity. His heart hammered in his chest, mimicking the panic of witnessing something monstrous.
Whenever she shed her mask as a noble lady to reveal the arrogant, listless being beneath, he found himself unable to look away, despite his fear. If he had to give it a name, it was closest to curiosity. It was no different from peering through a slightly ajar door. That curiosity was likely the very reason Gabriel had gone so far as to deceive the Temple to shield her.
“You like me?”
Rather than correct her, Gabriel simply watched her reaction. He figured that claiming affection would sound far more palatable than admitting to mere curiosity.
But it seemed he had made a grave miscalculation. He had touched a nerve.
Her faint smile froze, and all warmth vanished from her face. It felt as though they had reverted to the moment they first met. The tiny, budding warmth evaporated, leaving behind only a frigid, hollow shell.
Evangeline Rohanson was a star suspended in the heavens. Should she fall to earth, the world would be unable to bear her light and would crumble to ruin.
Yet, only now did Gabriel realize that a fallen star would also have its own form shattered. It was a tragedy born of his base desire to drag that star down to his level.
“Without even knowing what I am?”
Evangeline stared at him. Her eyes looked as though they were pooling with fresh blood.
At that moment, an anomaly occurred.
The candles flickered. As if his eyes had been plucked out, his vision plunged into pitch-black darkness before snapping back to light. Had the room always been this vast? Something felt warped. Hot wax dripped from the ceiling.
The illuminated room was entirely different from the one he knew.
The walls and furniture were overgrown with fibrous tissue. Pulsating lumps of raw flesh throbbed with a sickening vitality. Clusters of eyeballs hung from the ceiling and sprouted from every crevice, blinking independently at erratic tempos.
With every spin of their dance, something squelched and burst beneath his feet. Fighting back a wave of nausea, Gabriel bit down hard on his lower lip.
In this world of crimson filth, Evangeline Rohanson alone remained pristine white. She was the only anchor for his gaze, yet he could not bring himself to meet her eyes, which burned a terrifying red. It felt as though her eyes were the very heart of this grotesque space. And that heart whispered directly into his ear.
“Sir Gabriel, you only need to play along with me to a reasonable degree.”
Her voice was sweet, entirely devoid of reprimand. The soft resonance sounded like the temptation of a fork-tongued demon, yet also like a guiding voice leading him toward salvation.
Was she punishing him for overstepping his bounds? As if sensing his extreme tension, Evangeline lightly brushed his shoulder.
History was repeating itself. It was just like the time at the Rohanson Mansion when she had warned him for crossing the line.
Was she wearing that same heartless expression now? Too terrified to look at her face, Gabriel chose the next best option and glanced toward the mirror.
In its reflection, the grotesque filth did not exist. The sight of the pristine room brought a wave of relief. That must be reality, Gabriel told himself, clinging to the belief as he stared. But the moment he saw his own dancing figure in the glass, he bit his lip so hard the metallic taste of blood filled his mouth.
There was no Evangeline Rohanson in the mirror. If the reflection was reality, then she did not exist in this world either.
His vision flickered once more. As if that was all she had intended to show him, the room snapped back to its normal state, falling into a heavy silence.
“Shall we stop here?”
Her expression was one of mild pity, like someone watching an ant drown in sugar water.
As if on cue, the invisible vice gripping his chest released. Gabriel gasped for air. A dry, sickly sweet floral scent wafted from Evangeline, but as she stepped away, the fragrance vanished.
Stepping back, Evangeline took the hem of her dress in a picture-perfect gesture and curtsied. When she straightened, her expression was perfectly serene.
“After all, I quite like you, Sir.”
Evangeline smiled softly, her eyes curving into crescents. It was a smile so beautiful that, had Jim Nopedi been alive, he would have gladly sold his soul just to paint it.
Evangeline glanced at the mirror, as if checking to ensure her mask was securely in place. Gabriel followed her gaze. Reflected in the glass was a completely expressionless Evangeline Rohanson.
* * *
Claiming she was fatigued from the dance, Evangeline gently suggested that Gabriel head home. With no further excuse to linger, they parted ways, leaving a bitter, unsettling feeling in his chest. This time, she did not offer him her hand.
He felt as though he were wading through a swamp, his feet exceptionally heavy. Every few steps, he stopped to look back at the Rohanson Mansion, but the tightly drawn curtains blocked any view of the interior.
“Are you leaving?”
Having lingered far too long, he ran into Canna, who was taking a stroll through the garden. Cradled in her arms was the cat he had seen at the orphanage.
The affectionate creature that had once played in Gabriel’s arms was gone; now, the cat didn’t even spare him a glance. Knowing how notoriously fickle cats could be, Gabriel quickly lost interest.
“Miss Canna, it has been a while.”
Gabriel offered a polite greeting, doing his best to appear composed.