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[T/N: Pov shifts to Mr. Maurice]
Abel Maurice had frequent, fleeting thoughts that it would have been better if he had never been born. Meeting her was all because he was born, so if it hadn’t occurred in the first place, he wouldn’t have suffered from the antics of such a terrible fate.
But no curse words, even his ferocious desire to give up everything, was weaker than the love he had. It’s cruel indeed.
It was deep, when the first ray of the sun had not yet touched the sky, that the man had come to his old cottage.
The woman did not allow him to find her first, and it was the first time in months that she had visited him in person. Under these circumstances, he couldn’t complain about time.
Without hesitation, Abel got dressed and followed the attendant. Even though it was midsummer, it was an exceptionally cold morning.
How long did he walk in the dark? All of a sudden he stopped his foot. There was a carriage with a red rose pattern engraved on it like her hair. It was only natural that his heart started beating so hard that it was painful.
‘Milady.’
But when he got into the carriage, Abel’s heart, which was pounding with nervous and overwhelming expectations, was crushed in an instant.
She was his sun, his world and everything, but here she was weeping pitifully.
‘Milady.’
A lonely dawn incites despair. A faint sob that came out, brutally cut Abel’s heart swiftly. He held his brilliant goddess in his arms with trembling hands and wept after her.
The story he heard from her, who had slowly stopped crying, was enough to give Abel a burning rage and frustration. The one and only prince of the Sourne. How dare that damned man…….
‘No, Abel. I… I’m the one who seduced him.’
Perhaps she had escaped under the guise of a night walk, and the carriage carrying the two returned to her mansion. But Monica strongly refused to get out of the carriage. She screamed that she would not return to the house where she slept with that terrible Prince.
In the end, Abel had no choice but to plead with the coachman to return to his humble cottage.
So a rose of night dew bloomed in his old house. Like a miracle in a pile of ruins. Abel always thought it was a miracle to breathe with Monica. It was also tearfully ecstatic to be able to drink her breath in his own house.
In that hot and fragrant pleasure, Abel felt his consciousness disappearing several times. He fell into a restless sleep with his arms around her shoulders, and when the woman in her arms tossed and turned slightly, he opened his eyes as if he was on fire.
And every time she was held by him. He was so happy that his heart was pounding.
The room with the window closed was immersed in pitch-black darkness for a long time. The morning, which had already lit up the entire city, did not reach their bed.
Even when time passed and it was no longer possible to tell whether this was a dream or reality, the two were still entangled.
Abel hugged her slender waist a little harder for a moment. It was unimaginable behavior for him but then he kissed her shoulders which were as smooth as satin and begged in a hoarse voice.
‘Milady, I hope you will stop abusing yourself because of an impossible relationship…….’
‘…….’
‘If you’re only going to be sick like this, I’d rather…… My wom…….’
‘You are already mine, Abel.’
Her voice was as dry as a desert.
‘You are not mine, are you? Please…….’
Behind Monica’s unanswered back, Abel Maurice wept for a long time.
After letting go of the woman today, will he meet her again in a few months? Maybe longer than that. He was going to have to live another death-like life, waiting endlessly for her who might come at any time.
When Abel, who was tired and asleep after sobbing for a long time in silence, had woken up, Monica was already gone.
He was used (by her), but Abel didn’t know she was his refuge. His love was like this from the beginning.
Still, he never felt anger, or even anything close to it, towards Monica. It was just heartbreaking because all he felt was endless affection and love. He had vowed countless times to take care of her and help her until his body and heart crumbled down.
So, the vain wish for her to be his wasn’t out of greed either. Of course he couldn’t deny it if he didn’t want her, but Abel wanted to set Monica free. She’s suffering from love that can’t be achieved just like him.
He wished he was the only one who had to feel the pain. Abel, who may not be as great and flawless as that man (Alan), Abel was confident that he would live his life devoted to her only.
But Monica was also a wreck like him because her eyes and ears were blinded by love, she could not move or look back without that love. Poor Elwood’s Rose.
‘Abel Maurice.’
It was literally a golden opportunity for Abel that Alan called him up in the Principality. Like Leopold’s name, he was always shrewd and secretive. Abel Maurice was lucky because it was given to entrust something to a person who knew their family affairs.
To his surprise, however, Alan had a strange woman hidden in his castle. It wasn’t the only thing that puzzled him. It was because the work given to him was to help her complete her novel, which she had stopped.
Abel, unable to grasp his intentions at all, wondered if the woman was Alan Leopold’s secret lover. If the two were really lovers, Monica would of course be in pain, and she would cry a lot, but she might finally be free from false expectations.
But, unfortunately, nothing like the deepest desperation was read from Alan. He just felt an unknown obsession from Alan. Moreover, the obsession seemed to be directed toward the novel rather than towards women. Whatever it is, this can’t be love.
Abel, who accepted his request, asked him to grant his request in lieu of the large wage. Offering the condition that her novel, even if it is not a simple novel, must be completed.
Alan Leopold is a born businessman who has always been perfectly aware of gains and losses. He was an immediate helper if it was to his benefit, and as expected, he accepted Abel’s request.
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‘Anything I can listen to.’
Abel recited his oldest wish without any hesitation. Please let go of Monica Elwood. But the answer that came back, horribly unsympathetic.
‘I don’t know how to let go of something I don’t even have.’
In the end, Abel fervently recited a wish that he had never wished to say with his own mouth, that he had never even imagined, but had to make now, an opportunity that would never come again.
‘I know what the master is planning……. Please, at the last moment when it’s all over…….’
‘…….’
‘Please don’t hurt Monica.’
Alan Leopold, who seemed more neat and rational than anyone else, was actually a beast with animalistic senses all over his body. The strange thing is that he has been like this since a very young age. Even though there’s not a drop of Ian Leopold’s blood mixed in.
Abel was not widely known, but a writer who was well-received by the literary circles of the Principality, and with his natural observation skills, he had a fairly accurate picture of what kind of person Alan was and he already knew all about the ugly heart he was hiding.
The problem was with the woman Alan had hidden. The unhappy, eager eyes were obviously the same as Abel’s, but she refused to write the novel.
Abel was determined to dedicate the completed {Paradise on the Moon} in front of Alan by all possible means, but he was nervous and afraid that it would take too long because of her stubbornness.
Alan had a deep-rooted hatred of his family and Able was scared to know that truth.
What if this fiery emotion engulfs him completely before he can take over the Leopolds? What if it burns everything like a fire spreading through a dry field?
Monica Elwood is the only biological child of Leopold’s Head. What if the anger of the fake heir destroys Abel’s world (Monica), his everything?
“……now,”
In the meantime, something surprising happened.
“What did you say?”
“I’ll write the novel, Mr. Maurice.”
Abel couldn’t hide his bewildered expression, even though it was the words he had been eagerly waiting for.
Why? Did she suddenly feel compassion for him because he was crying because of his wretchedness?
However, the unknown woman, who sat slightly in front of me, had hard eyes like never before.
“Did….. you have a change of heart?”
Abel hurriedly wiped away the tears that never stopped with his hands and sleeves, and continued,
“It is also for me to complete the novel if you remember. Did you suddenly want to help me?”
“I’d be happy to help Mr. Maurice, too.”
The woman answered in a sweet voice.
“But don’t worry. That’s not the only reason.”
A fragrant summer breeze blew from the open window, gently waving her warm brown-coloured curls. No matter how many bars were used, the seasons like a blessing moved freely in the room like a flexible wave.
“I’m going to write the novel for myself, to find myself.”
“That means…”
So, are you saying that you will dare to cast off that harsh love, a yoke-like[1] feeling that only tightens up the more you struggle?
On the first day he faced this woman, Abel clearly saw himself in the past in her soft brown eyes. His eyes on that day when he was willing to kneel down without resistance or doubt for love like a tidal wave must have had the same light.
The depth of her emotion was as deep as his for Monica.
‘I can’t.’
Furthermore, rather than hiding the desire and longing for love that is so high and noble that it cannot be reached, aren’t they being exposed? Abel thought it was ridiculously insignificant arrogance.
But the woman in front of her again spoke with determination.
“Because this life is so precious to me to be crushed by self-destructive love.”
Even though it was a small, fragile voice like a song.
“I have to move on. And I hope you can.”
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“However, didn’t you say it was painful to carry on with his novel? You have to remove him…….”
“It’s to remove him.”
The woman still had a gentle face. She seemed to be trying to pretend to be strong, or maybe he was just constantly putting his own hints on it.
“To get rid of Alan Leopold, I decided to end this novel.”
But the two eyes were clearly shining with vivid colors.