Into the Rose Garden Novel - Chapter 3 The beautiful child resembles his mother

He held the shining silver coin in his hand, turning it round and round. It was his first time touching a silver coin directly. It had been worthless when he possessed countless of them, but now it was precious, having lost everything. Unlike platinum, the pale gray metal, appearing so fragile, was like the crystallization of a fleeting dream. He pondered, reflecting its shimmering surface in the orange-glowing sky each night.

Should he buy bread? A large loaf packed with many raisins could last him a good six months, even if he ate one a day. He could buy sugar to go with it. Buying a blanket for the approaching winter would be good too. Or perhaps warm, fur-lined boots. Or maybe, it would be better to take this and go to a warmer southern city. The winter there wouldn’t be as harsh. What should he do?

Aeroc squatted in the barn, his face buried in his knees, deep in thought. He wouldn’t have agonized like this before. He would have immediately gone to a stationery store, bought a pen and paper, and sent letters to every address he still remembered. And he wouldn’t receive a reply to any of those countless letters.

Everyone who once yearned for his invitation now turned their backs on him. Even Derbyshire and Wolfray, with whom he had been very close, refused to even visit. After being turned away without even entering the mansion, no one even pretended to know Aeroc anymore. When he was at his wit’s end, only Kloff extended a hand. Looking back now, that was a path that led him further into the abyss.

Knowing full well that there would be no reply anyway, he couldn’t waste his precious money on such a futile act. He wasn’t hungry either. It was a golden opportunity, one he doubted would ever come again. He didn’t want to spend this precious silver coin on bread that could be obtained simply by offering his body.

Aeroc recalled the one thing he desired most. With this money, perhaps his dream might come true just this once. After agonizing all night without sleep, Aeroc left the barn before the men who came to collect semen burst in. And until dawn broke, he wandered, searching for a high-end tailor’s shop from his distant memories.

By the time the sun was fully up, Aeroc was chased away by the owner, who feared the shop’s reputation would suffer, without even being able to enter the luxury store. When he pleaded several times and showed the silver coin, the stern-faced tailor pushed up his glasses on his nose and sneered coldly.

“With just one silver coin, you can’t even buy a tie in our shop! Get out of here.”

He was a little surprised. He thought this precious silver coin would at least buy him a piece of clothing, even if not high-end, then at least of lesser quality. It was a failure that he couldn’t even buy a tie, something he had once used and discarded.

He bit his lip as he chose to walk in the shade. All day he lingered around places that looked like shops, but far from receiving proper treatment, he was lucky if he wasn’t met with hostility. In the end, he gave up on the luxury shops on the main street and managed to buy a very old suit and worn-out shoes from the shabbiest second-hand clothing store used by commoners. He paid all his silver coins for them and received a few copper coins in return. He spent those entirely on buying soap at another shop.

With an excited heart, he unconsciously ran towards the river. Before it got too late, he washed himself clean, hidden from people’s eyes, then carefully put on the clothes that smelled faintly of dust and mold. He put on the shoes too. He wished he could iron out the wrinkles, but such a luxury was not allowed.

Aeroc combed his still-wet hair back with his hands and then walked down the street. People glanced at him a little, but they didn’t show hostility as before. He walked with a pounding heart. Most people passed him by, but one or two young alphas stared intently at him. Not knowing why, he was very afraid, so Aeroc chose to walk in the shade, trying to avoid their gaze.

“Hey.”

Someone spoke from behind him. Startled, he turned around to see a complete stranger. With a friendly smile, the man hesitated a little, about to say something more. From behind him, what looked like his friends chuckled and whispered to each other. Aeroc felt a chill run down his spine.

“I-I’m sorry. I have somewhere urgent to be.”

“Oh, could you at least tell me your name?”

“I’m sorry.”

He replied quickly and hurried to put distance between them. The man seemed to follow for a bit but soon fell behind. His startled heart pounded painfully. The ill-fitting shoes chafed his heels, making them sore, but it couldn’t slow his pace.

After walking for over two hours, Aeroc stood at the end of a rather neat street where the city’s middle class lived. Beyond this street lay the area lined with the grand mansions of nobles. It took dozens of minutes just to pass the gate of one house. Unlike the busy streets of other cities, this area was mostly traversed by carriages, so there were hardly any pedestrians. When there were, it was only when the servants of each mansion occasionally patrolled the surroundings to prevent the approach of strangers.

The first time he was chased out of this place, he returned haphazardly, not thinking about his appearance, and was often chased by servants. There were several times when he was beaten unconscious for resisting.

Aeroc forced his stiff shoulders back and moved his feet. Fortunately, the servant passing by from the other side looked at him with a slightly wary gaze but didn’t try to stop him. It was thanks to his attire, which, though old and smelling faintly of dust, was not much different from their own. Still, Aeroc felt the prickling sensation on the back of his neck and quickened his pace.

Even after entering the noble district, he walked a long way, and it was late afternoon when he finally stood before a truly magnificent and enormous mansion, distinguished by a row of cedar trees lining its side.

On the elaborately sculpted pillar next to the tall iron gate hung a copper plate engraved with the owner’s name. What was once engraved as Teiwind was now changed to Bendyke.

The iron gate and the mansion’s entrance were separated by a vast garden that couldn’t be taken in at a single glance, so if Aeroc shouted from here, no one would hear him. As he lingered, wondering what to do, a carriage began to approach from afar. It wasn’t a noble’s grand carriage but a small two-seater, carrying a woman he knew well. The rather portly middle-aged omega woman saw Aeroc standing in front of the house, her eyes widened, then narrowed, and she stopped the carriage. The gatekeeper, noticing the carriage, approached from far inside.

“Hello, Count. What brings you here?”

“Martha.”

The gatekeeper, whose name Aeroc had never heard until now, only remembering seeing her face once in a while after Viscount Bendyke, the new owner of this mansion, hired her a few years ago, opened the gate. Martha nodded and drove the carriage inside. She was probably on her way to buy necessary items as a housekeeper.

He could ask her for help to get inside, but somehow, the words wouldn’t come out. Thinking of what he had done in the past, he didn’t have the face to ask her for such a difficult favor. It was better to wait for Kloff here. He would come out or go in eventually. As he stood there silently, the gatekeeper, with an expressionless gaze, looked at Aeroc for a moment before returning to the mansion.

Kloff was originally the second son of the Baron Bendyke family, who owned a small provincial estate. Compared to the high-ranking nobles in the capital, he was closer to a commoner, with nothing to his name, but that was no longer the case. He was a self-made businessman and an exceptionally talented investor, warmly welcomed even in the exclusive social circles of the royal palace.

His bond-related ventures all yielded huge profits, and he brought immense gains to the country through economic diplomatic negotiations, earning great merit. At the same time, backed by the patronage of numerous nobles, and through whatever clandestine dealings, he recently received a peerage.

It was not a common knightly title, but a viscountcy, granted on the grounds of his baronial lineage. Moreover, it was a hereditary title, and granting a hereditary title at this point in time was an enormous exception.

Many rumors and exaggerations circulated around him. In particular, his five-year period of disappearance immediately after losing his beloved wife and unborn child to ruffians spawned countless rumors. No one knew where he was or what he did during that time. However, when he reappeared in the city’s social circles, he held immense wealth and wielded significant influence over the metropolitan economy.

In contrast, Aeroc was on a continuous decline. His fortune vanished somewhere, and every business he invested in failed. He invested a large sum in someone he trusted, only to be swindled. It was strange. Even if Aeroc’s investment judgment wasn’t good, it wasn’t so bad that he would continuously incur such huge losses. It was as if someone had set a trap and was waiting.

Before long, his assets hit rock bottom, and Aeroc was buried in debt. Despite his pride, he sought help from those around him, but everyone turned him away. Aeroc was deeply shocked then and eventually had no choice but to sell his mansion. He had disposed of all other real estate, but he couldn’t handle the debt that multiplied several times overnight. The grand mansion, with its particularly beautiful rose garden, was now the property of Kloff Bendyke, a powerful economic official.

Now, Aeroc is waiting for the owner of the mansion where he was born.

As the sky gradually turned golden, the gatekeeper emerged again from inside.

“Is that the Count?”

He quickly rose from leaning against the wall and stood before him. The gatekeeper scanned Aeroc up and down with an incredulous look. Aeroc straightened his shoulders, held his head high, and lowered his gaze to meet the gatekeeper’s eyes.

“The Viscount has invited you in, please enter.”

The gatekeeper opened the gate and stepped aside. Had Martha spoken to him? Aeroc gave the gatekeeper a brief nod and entered the house.

The garden he surveyed on his way to the entrance hall retained its old appearance. Though only a few years had passed, distant memories, as if from a long time ago, slowly returned. He wondered if the rose garden, which his mother, whose face he could barely remember now, had loved so much, was still the same, but wandering around without the owner’s permission was not proper behavior.

Upon reaching the entrance, a butler in a neat black suit appeared. It was a young man, not the old butler of the Teiwind family who had cared for the mansion for decades. Aeroc followed the unfamiliar butler to the drawing-room. The interior decorations of the mansion were almost exactly as they had been. This was because he had hastily disposed of the decorations along with the house.

The only thing that had changed was the portraits. Most of the portraits hanging on the walls had been replaced with other paintings. Among them was a work by a talented new artist whom Aeroc had once taken notice of. To have his work decorating the drawing-room wall of the most influential noble in the country now, he must have become a very successful artist.

Aeroc was a little pleased that his judgment had been correct. He had no talent for investment, but he had an eye for distinguishing works of art. Aeroc, ushered into the empty drawing-room, slowly looked around the paintings. Dressed in a suit like this, appreciating art in a drawing-room that was somewhat unfamiliar yet still felt natural, he felt a momentary illusion of returning to the past. His shoulders straightened a little more, and his chin automatically lifted. With a faint smile, Aeroc examined the artist’s delicate brushstrokes.

“That painting sold for the price of a decent house at auction. It was a pretty good investment.”

Kloff spoke from behind, having entered unnoticed. Aeroc was very surprised, but due to the sudden resurgence of his aristocratic training, he slightly nodded, as if he had known Kloff was there all along, and stepped back from the painting.

“It’s a very delicate and emotional painting. The artist must have loved this space. That’s why he poured so much light into it with such bold colors. I don’t think this is the only piece depicting this scene. He probably painted several works depending on the season or time. If they are a series, collecting them would add more value.”

“It’s early summer from the four seasons series. I’m still trying to locate the other works.”

“Hmm.”

Aeroc nodded and cast his gaze towards Kloff.

“You have a good eye. This must be early work, but you managed to recognize it.”

His breath was slightly short, and his heart tightened a little, but it wasn’t unbearable.

Kloff’s gaze towards him was similar to that night on the street when he last saw him. The slight difference was that then it was a cold look filled with contempt, whereas now it contained a hint of admiration and a corresponding loathing.

The conversation ceased.

Kloff’s dark eyes still held cold hatred, glaring at him, and Aeroc dared not utter a single word in his presence. He only lowered his eyelids slightly, gazing at the man’s faintly trembling hand. For some unknown reason, he seemed to have provoked him again.

He worried a little that the large, warm hand slowly clenching might fly towards his cheek. Being hit would hurt, but more than that, if he angered Kloff, he might be immediately kicked out. He had only half fulfilled his wish. Aeroc smiled, as he always did towards an angry alpha, to prove he harbored no ill will. But that seemed to have been a bad choice. The loosely clenching fist suddenly tightened so hard that his knuckles turned white.

Just as he was about to instinctively step back in fear of being hit, the chilling atmosphere was broken by the butler entering with a tea set. With precise movements, he bowed to his master and placed the tray on the table. Kloff, who had been radiating intense hatred, slightly relaxed his expression, then offered Aeroc a seat with a cold smile. Though still frightening, Aeroc nodded slightly and went to sit at the table.

The tea the butler served was the high-quality black tea he used to enjoy. As he took a sip of the warm liquid, Aeroc felt some of his tension ease. It had been a very long time since he had tea. No, it was the first time he had tea since leaving this mansion. Before, a single sip of this tea meant nothing, but now he was so grateful that he felt he could compose a long, drawn-out eulogy for it. As he unceremoniously cupped the teacup with both hands, feeling its warmth, Kloff spoke first.

“You look much better than last time, Count.”

It wasn’t particularly sarcastic, but the tone was so flat that it felt piercing, tightening his solar plexus. Aeroc didn’t want to show his faintly trembling fingertips, so he put down the teacup and lowered both hands beneath the table.

“Thanks to you.”

“Did you find your way here easily?”

“What?”

At Aeroc’s question, Kloff leaned back in his chair, crossed his legs, and replied.

“It hasn’t been two years since you last came to this mansion, has it? To me, it’s just an ordinary house, but isn’t it like home to the Count? I was a little disappointed you haven’t shown your face all this time.”

Though he said that, it didn’t sound sincere at all. The purity he used to display whenever he felt unpleasant had vanished, and Kloff was now so eloquent that the title “Viscount Bendyke” suited him better. In other words, his sarcasm was hitting Aeroc squarely, one by one.

“There were various things.”

In truth, he had tried to come to this mansion many times. He had endured all sorts of hardships until he realized it was a futile hope and an absurd dream, one he couldn’t guarantee whether he could ever achieve in his lifetime, but there was no need to explain it all. Even if Kloff had a valid reason, was there a need to describe the miserable times he didn’t even want to recall, just to please him, a man who knew no satisfaction? After taking another sip of the slightly lukewarm tea, Aeroc quietly met Kloff’s gaze.

Now, he desires only one thing. Though they were lives born in a way he had never imagined or wished for, it was an unchanging fact that they were Aeroc’s blood. He wanted to hold those angels just once. He wanted to tell them who their birth parent was. That was all.

He had no desire to inform them of what he had done, what atonement he was undergoing, or how and where he was living now. The little children didn’t need to live with a dark past like original sin just because they were born through him. He simply wanted to meet them just once to see if they were being subjected to unnecessary coercion under Kloff’s care, who had chosen such a cruel method for revenge, and if they were living happily.

Finally, Aeroc made up his mind and opened his mouth, facing the dagger-like gaze fixed upon him.

“They were beautiful children.”

His faintly smiling lips twisted slightly. His deep brown eyes gleamed terrifyingly. The thin mask he wore, making him look angry just by looking at him, cracked a little. Kloff, who had been glaring as if he would break his neck at any moment, his lips trembling slightly, then broke into a confident sneer again.

“When did you see them?”

“By chance, the other day.”

When he answered meekly, Kloff scoffed, “Ha.” Then he propped his chin on his hand and stared intently at Aeroc. He seemed to be gauging whether it was true or not.

“The child doesn’t resemble you.”

It was an appeal made with a certain degree of preparedness for threat. Even if an unbearable argument or violence ensued, he had to try. If he lost this opportunity, he couldn’t guarantee when he would see them again. Aeroc inwardly resolved firmly, deliberately feigning composure to avoid backing down, and gazed at his cold opponent. Kloff, without much agitation, only his lips twitching slightly, then replied in a light tone.

“They resemble my wife.”

At first, he didn’t understand. No, for a moment, he thought Kloff had gone mad again. He would never think of him in that way… He blinked several times, unable to close his mouth, then suddenly realized.

Ah.

The hope that had barely kept him composed shattered into countless pieces. He wanted to scream and rave right then. But thanks to the suit and shoes that constricted his body, and the scent of tea that strangely revived old teachings, he unconsciously responded with an even deeper smile.

“I enjoyed the tea. The aroma is lovely. I’d like to drink more, but I think I should go now.”

“Leaving already?”

As he stood up, Kloff asked mockingly.

“Thank you for serving tea at an inconvenient time.”

“I won’t go far.”

He didn’t even stand up.

Aeroc left the drawing-room without looking back and departed the mansion. The gatekeeper, seeing him walking at a slightly faster pace from afar, opened the gate without a word. He had to leave the mansion, pale and unable to even thank him.

Yes. It was a lie to say he hadn’t expected it at all. He had thought about it once. The reason he had pushed it deep down and tried not to think about it was probably because he wanted to leave a glimmer of hope. The belief that someday Kloff would forgive him and accept him.

But that was truly nothing more than a vain delusion. The hatred of a man who had lost his beloved wife and child was greater and more intense than anything Aeroc could imagine. Even in a shattered, impoverished, and fading life, the one who harbored resentment did not cease his revenge.

Everything felt futile. No matter how much he tried, Kloff would not acknowledge him. He realized it only now. After years of miserable, wretched days. Along with the weight of his sins. He knew it intellectually, but it was the first time he truly felt it. The path paved with neat stones gave way, and he sank up to his knees.

Since he had fallen in love with Kloff at first sight years ago, nothing else had seemed to matter. Even Raphaiel had met him later than he had. He, with his dark brown hair and deep eyes, was naturally his, and he had been very angry when Raphaiel had intercepted him.

He had firmly believed that he, with his superior family, wealth, beauty, and talent, was better than the shabby Raphaiel, who had nothing outstanding except being an omega capable of bearing children. He had to endure it because he was an alpha, but not anymore. Half by force, half by trickery, the medicine given by Kloff, consumed by fierce hatred, had changed an alpha into an omega.

“If you took my wife and child from me, you must compensate me.”

For him, who said that, he had compensated for the lost child and even bore another. Even if he had sinned, it wasn’t intentional. He had lost his wealth and family and paid for his sins. His arrogant demeanor had also disappeared while he rolled in the streets, so he thought it would be okay. He thought that someday Kloff would acknowledge him. How could a dead person defeat a living one?

But now he saw that wasn’t the case. It was the living who could not defeat the dead. Raphaiel was clearly preserved forever in Kloff’s memory, beautiful and gentle. Forever, so that the shabby, withered Aeroc could never defile her again.

His eyes felt hot beneath them. It felt as if tears would flow. But no tears came. He had never cried in his life and had forgotten how to cry. He wanted to cry but couldn’t, so he swallowed the bitter liquid burning inside him, and Aeroc trudged along, unable to hide his terribly twisted, ugly face.

Perhaps the two children would live their entire lives without knowing Aeroc. They would be told that their birth parent had sadly passed away long ago at the hands of a bad noble. Yes. Perhaps that was a blessing. It was better than passing on guilt to them. If they were the children born of his ‘wife’, Kloff would at least love them unstintingly.

The thought made Aeroc a little happy. It hurt a lot, but he was so happy that tears felt like they would flow again. But no matter how much he contorted his face and made sobbing sounds, no bodily fluid flowed from his withered body. His flushed cheeks were terribly hot.

Enveloped in a blood-red sunset, he walked. There weren’t many places he could go. With the clattering sound of his old shoe heels, he headed to the place where he had once floated flower petals. Perhaps today, he might float his light body, like dry straw, that had blown everything away.