Into the Rose Garden Novel - Chapter 54.1 : Side Story

Kloff slowly got up. Next to him, the person who always evoked wondrous admiration was sleeping with a weary expression. Illuminated by the faint night light, he looked vibrant, as one would after a passionate encounter.
Smooth skin. Flushed cheeks. A straight nose without blemishes. Red lips. Neat eyelashes. A moderately muscular body. There was no flaw anywhere. The rough skin, pale cheeks, cheekbones full of small scars, chapped lips, trembling eyelashes, and emaciated body that existed in his memory were gone. Yet, he was Aeroc Teiwind. He was a healthy soul who did not writhe in jealousy, and he was whole, just as he had not been ruined by him. A noble who knew how to shine on his own at any moment. Was it even appropriate to feel inferior to him? Kloff was grateful that the tragedy brought about by his own foolishness would no longer continue.
He hadn’t used any grand spells or legendary artifacts. He had simply seen him for who he was. The way he evaluated himself, his conversation style full of wary arrogance, his dignified posture and gaze. Everything was an element that formed Aeroc Teiwind, and there was no base intention in it. Simply seeing him as he was, everything fell into place. Everything was a disaster caused by his inferiority complex.
When he first recognized the changed world, it was utter confusion. He thought it was hell, without a doubt. But he soon regained his composure. It was because he had confirmed the existence of Aeroc, his only goal. How much effort had he put into reclaiming him? He worked without time to eat. Sleep was out of the question. Apart from the efforts that tested his physical limits, finding a way and making decisions was easy. It was because he had done it once before.
He first contacted Wolflake, who had fewer prejudices about his background. He joined forces with him and built a bridge to Derbyshire. After carefully gaining Westport’s trust, he finally retrieved the essential Martha. Not only that, but he even won over Duchess Clayton. These were things he wouldn’t have done before. It was solely to reach Aeroc Teiwind. He wanted to leave a good impression on him. He prayed that the aftermath of their awkward first meeting would not last long.
He believed without a doubt that even if there were bumps in the road, he would eventually find him. To that end, he carefully leaked investment information. It took some time to orchestrate the situation so that Aeroc would suffer a significant blow, making someone’s help absolutely necessary, while he himself controlled everything. He walked the destined path and came to him.
But he didn’t want to hurt him. He just wanted to see him. He cautiously gauged how far a relationship unentangled by madness could go. Simply being alive was an enjoyable pastime, and the sharp arguments they exchanged were the joy of his life.
Raphiel was also nowhere to be seen. In fact, he had almost no memory of him. It was just a fresh feeling of ‘was he like that?’ Guilt was certainly present. He was a regrettable soul sacrificed because of him. That’s why he didn’t approach him even more. He truly needed someone who cared for him. Whether the person by his side now was qualified for that remained to be seen.
Time and space. These were the minimum conditions for observing Aeroc closely. The fact that he interpreted it with sexual implications was, in fact, somewhat intentional. He wanted him to approach first. To do that, he had to give him a suitable excuse. His utterly naive lover walked straight down the promised path. He could have been happy enough as he was. If his seizures hadn’t started.
He hadn’t even realized he was imprinted in this world. After being coldly rejected by him and spitting blood for the first time, he became curious about his condition. Since he had experienced it once before, his recognition was quick. He met with a doctor for consultation but wrote the prescription himself.
After that, he was even more cautious. Immediately after realizing, his obsession with him intensified, but his caution grew even more. He thought he could control it appropriately. But he was mistaken. Hallucinations also progressed, and the violence due to dissatisfaction was uncontrollable. It was the same even when he hit rock bottom and saw blood. Even drinking medicine like water, he couldn’t control the already progressed imprinting; instead, he almost killed him.
It was then that he decided to end everything. This world was perfect. Only he, who had suddenly flown in, was imperfect. He didn’t want to hurt him anymore. He settled the businesses he had started and handed the house over to Martha. Half of his assets were donated to various organizations, and the other half was sent to his main family. It was gratitude for his tuition.
He thought he had taken care of everything, but when he came to say goodbye, he realized he had forgotten minor things. He was more furious than he had imagined and yelled at him to get out immediately. It was a relief that his already firm resolve could be strengthened. Otherwise, he might have wavered.
The last conversation was purely for him. He wanted to let him know that all the problems were his own and had nothing to do with him. The Aeroc he remembered was not here. His mate was waiting for him in a place he couldn’t return to.
He chose that place for the execution because it was where Aeroc had gone when he made his decision before. He felt as if the shabby Aeroc would be waiting for his ugly self there. What was he thinking as he faced the black water flowing serenely? With what state of mind would he push himself into the cold abyss?
When he opened his eyes again, he saw a worn-out wooden ceiling and a hard bed. And then he heard sobs and groans first. He thought he could finally face him. People in hazy clothes came and went, and at some point, a dizzying golden color filled his vision.
“He is my lover.”
The voice introducing himself was unmistakably his. My demon. The demon I created. He had waited for him all along. When he opened his eyes, he waited for him to embrace him with pale skin, lifeless face, gnarled hands, and cold arms, and whisper to him. To live through hell together. To sink forever together beneath that chilling garden filled with the poisonous scent of roses.
“Are you awake? I was worried sick when I heard the news. I’m glad you’re alive.”
His eyes slightly red, he overflowed with blue vitality. His eyes were so dazzling that tears wouldn’t stop. He held his hand and whispered that he was relieved.
It was two deaths. His withered side was not allowed to him. He had refused. He lived alone and left alone. He made it so. Only then did Kloff realize that his soul would never again have the chance to rest by his side. His already dead heart squeezed out rotten blood again and again.
The one who glorified a lovely life was the final punishment given to Kloff. Every time he felt a fated love for him, he vividly recalled how terribly he had ruined him. Watching him go out in neat clothes, he remembered him in rags, planting daffodils with dry hands. Seeing him discuss knowledge and art with a smooth tongue, he remembered him calling only his name with a foul-smelling tongue due to inflammation. Seeing him smile beautifully at banquets, he remembered him ravenously gnawing on dry potatoes. Each time, his whole body boiled with the terrible poison he had created.
“Kloff?”
He heard his name called in his sleep. And a hand fumbled for the empty space beside him. He took that hand and kissed the back of it.
“Stay by my side.”
“Mmm-hmm.”
He mumbled something, then fell back asleep. He pressed his lips to the back of his hand, quietly feeling the warmth. As he rubbed his cheek against it, undeserving tears flowed. They were the tears of a terrible sinner. Tears ran down his nose and wet the back of his white hand.
“I love you.”
He whispered a confession no one heard. May it be conveyed to him, wherever he may be, through this beautiful Aeroc Teiwind. May the whispers of a paltry love, never fully expressed, one day reach its rightful owner. With the faint hope that if he loved the one before him with all his might, the battered one might one day come to meet him.
“I love you.”
“I love you.”
“I love you.”
“I love… you…”
“I love…”
“I… love…”
Into the Rose Garden Gaiden
<In the Brilliant Abyss> Fin
Chap 54 (Phần 26) kết
One afternoon,
After several years of raising their children, born a year apart, in a blur, the sound of their laughter now beautifully filled the spacious mansion. The once desolate space, like a masterpiece that had faded with time, now sparkled as if it had been given new colors.

“Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For giving me treasures.”
Aeroc stood beside Kloff, holding his hand.

“Isn’t that something an Alpha usually says?”
“Outwardly, I am also an Alpha, so put aside your unnecessary complaints. If I say thank you, it means I am thankful.”
Aeroc lightly kissed the pouting lips of his lover, who seemed to have a mix of interest and slight dissatisfaction.

While their hearts were full with Lennox and Yurea, two children were far from enough to fill the mansion. However, the two agreed not to have any more children for the time being. There was nothing wrong with Aeroc’s health. It was Kloff who had vehemently opposed it, having resorted to vulgar threats of keeping Aeroc confined and only getting him pregnant.

“There are already three ticking time bombs running around out of my sight. My head is already bursting, and for now, I’ll politely decline any more maddeningly beautiful angels who cry, eat, and poop every two hours.”
Was raising children that difficult? Of course, Aeroc was also extremely tired. Martha helped, and Hugo lent a hand during the day. But Martha never broke her solemn promise to rest at night, and Kloff refused Hugo’s help.

Due to the nature of a bonded Alpha, Kloff strongly disliked entrusting Aeroc and the two children, whom he considered his ‘territory,’ to another Alpha’s hands. In fact, after Martha, he was even more skilled at childcare than Aeroc. Since Lennox was born, it was his job to hold the children and put them to sleep.

Sometimes, Aeroc would even feel jealous. So, he would occasionally cling to Kloff’s large embrace while holding a child, acting spoiled. Even though it must have been heavy, Kloff stayed by their side without a hint of complaint until Aeroc and the child fell asleep. At the same time, he also maintained an active public life.

Since he started working at the Ministry of Finance, Kloff’s influence grew day by day. One might say he had a successful life for the second son of a baron without a title, but Kloff was never satisfied.

“I will obtain a title.”
“A title? Isn’t being a Count enough?”
“That’s yours, not mine.”
“What’s mine is yours.”
“It’s different.”
No one could break Kloff’s stubbornness. Thanks to that, he was constantly exhausted, clinging naked to the bow of the Teiwind (nickname: Captain Bendyke, the fearsome foot-wiper, and three VIPs) as it cut through rough glaciers, enduring all the ice, and often nagging.

Raphiel, who frequently traveled abroad, recently returned and settled down with his family in Wolflake Villa, not far from Teiwind Mansion. Kloff, desperate, shamelessly went to him and handed over two key figures whom he wouldn’t worry about for a week even if they were gone. When Aeroc jokingly accused him of selling their children, Kloff reacted nonchalantly.

“Lennox likes Suu and wants to sleep there. Yurea too.”
“Lenox likes Suu?”
Aeroc, recalling his son who would frown at the mere mention of Suu, asked incredulously.

“He dislikes him because he likes him.”
“Thinking of him as your son, I somehow understand.”
Aeroc felt a strange sense of déjà vu watching Kloff spout absurd logic. The eldest son resembles his father. Thinking that Lenox would be the same, it somehow made sense. Still, it was the first time they had been separated from their children for a whole week, so the worry was immense.

Without the children, the mansion suddenly felt like a tomb. Aeroc aimlessly wandered around his spouse, feeling lonely, but the man, engrossed in his work, paid little attention to Aeroc. Knowing that he was handling urgent matters, Aeroc had no intention of throwing a childish tantrum. He simply lay down on a nearby sofa and opened a book. Aeroc, turning the pages with bored movements, suddenly spoke.

“Are Lennox and Yurea doing well?”
“Don’t worry. Those rascals eat and live well wherever they go.”
Kloff was currently sitting at his desk in the study, where a cool breeze was blowing, still wrestling with documents. Because of Aeroc, who was brilliant but utterly useless when it came to money matters, all decisions regarding the Count’s household accounts, which rivaled those of a major company, as well as general household management and education, fell to him. Furthermore, he was also the primary caregiver. He had complained that he lacked time to process various documents and invoices due to dealing with and chasing after the two children, but as soon as he had free time, he abandoned his spouse and immersed himself in financial calculations.

He said that if he had even a little more time, he wouldn’t have thrown the children into someone else’s house. Aeroc believed him. Kloff, who was a decent lover, also dreamed of being a perfect father. Separating from the children was not an easy decision for him either. What more could be said when it was the disliked Wolflake Villa?

There was a mountain of receipts, and if they weren’t processed immediately, the household would be paralyzed. The butler, the footman, and even Martha’s weekly wages were overdue. No one could endure Martha’s wrath if she didn’t get paid.

“Last month’s invoices are still piled up. Good heavens.”
Kloff grumbled as he sorted the receipts. The Count’s extravagant spending was one problem, but there were also receipts for various daily necessities consumed in the mansion, documents related to vast assets, numerous large and small estates, and Kloff’s own investment ventures, along with inquiries and letters from a large number of employees. Everything, from trivial decisions to matters requiring deep contemplation, demanded Kloff’s attention.

“A week won’t be enough.”
Even amidst his overwhelming busyness, the actual owner of the house, Count Teiwind, lazily circled Kloff. Just a moment ago, he had been engrossed in reading, but now he was sitting at a small tea table by the window where lace curtains fluttered. With a very relaxed demeanor, as if to provoke, he sipped dark tea. The sunlight hit his faded blonde hair, scattering into opalescent reflections. Kloff diligently processed documents, occasionally stealing glances at this beautiful person who used the only self-existing thing in this world merely as a chandelier to reflect himself.

“Hmm. The tea temperature is just right. The aroma is superb.”
Aeroc deliberately sat where the breeze blew and sipped the red liquid. He slowly swirled the teacup to intentionally spread the aroma and even spoke loudly enough to be heard, but the miser, obsessed with money, wouldn’t budge his heavy bottom.

This year’s bulb harvest was abundant. Aeroc smiled contentedly, seeing clusters of colorful, beautiful flowers in bloom. He wasn’t originally deeply knowledgeable about horticulture. But recently, he had found great joy in it. He pestered the villain—literally pestered Kloff’s phallus, which he held in his secret parts. Perhaps he was just as shameless when it came to money—and gradually collected rare bulbs from the international flower market.

“It’s a good thing we’re not having a concert this year. If we had, I’d be buried under documents by now.”
The man, nose buried in papers, grumbled. Aeroc secretly glared at him, twisting his lips.

He had planned to hold a night concert when the flowers were in full bloom in midsummer. It would be wonderful to play nocturnes on the piano, violin, and cello. But even that wasn’t easy. The miser, who somehow controlled the household’s finances, was displeased with holding concerts among many artistic activities. Once, Aeroc questioned him.

“You don’t object to buying paintings, so why do you dislike concerts so much?”
“Paintings leave a physical object. Concerts are a one-time thing. It’s empty.”
“You miser.”
In short, paintings and sculptures were investments, but concerts were not. Later, he said he wouldn’t stop Aeroc from attending concerts and to buy as many tickets as he wanted. But playing himself was also important. Kloff didn’t understand that rich emotional experiences were essential for growing children.

“Playing in front of many people is to build confidence and a sense of responsibility for the event. What if the children who will inherit the Count’s family don’t practice presenting themselves in public?”
“I grew up just fine without having concerts.”
“As a dried-up miser, you mean.”
“Emotional experiences aren’t bought with money. They’re cultivated by playing in nature. That’s why city folk just don’t get it.”
“Ah, so since I’m from the city and don’t know, you should take them to nature yourself, then.”
At that, Kloff fell silent. He wasn’t in a situation to take a vacation from the Ministry of Finance. When Aeroc glared at him, he changed the subject to escape his awkwardness.

“Make them read books. Poetry. Hold poetry readings.”
It was the cheapest presentation the damned country bumpkin could think of. Of course, he bought books indiscriminately. Still, the emotion from literature and the emotion from music were separate matters. Even though Aeroc repeatedly emphasized that for a good musician, it was important to receive auditory stimulation through rich musical experiences from a young age, Kloff seemed to have his ears plugged and wouldn’t listen at all. Aeroc knew he lacked musical aptitude, but recently, he was subtly worried that Kloff might even be hard of hearing.

“It’s like I can finally breathe now that the kids are gone. Every time I work, I’m on edge, my auditory nerves strained towards the playroom, wondering what accident might happen.”
“The playroom is far from the study, and you can still hear that?”
“Of course.”
He said it so naturally, without any special intonation, that it seemed true. Given that he could miraculously hear the children’s sounds from the other side of the mansion, he clearly only heard what he wanted to hear. Did he have natural earplugs in his ears?

Bad guy.
Something effective was needed. Just as Kloff had adapted to the opulent Count’s family, Aeroc had grown accustomed to his miserly habits. More precisely, he had no choice but to learn how to get what he wanted. Special ‘coaxing’ was currently Aeroc’s best and most efficient method. He couldn’t use it too often and devalue it. He needed to develop other means.

Before, he would have vehemently opposed sending Lennox and Yurea to Wolflake Villa, claiming he couldn’t be separated from the children for a moment. But not this time. He was secretly waiting for a chance to turn the situation to his advantage. Kloff wasn’t unaware of this either.

Kloff, who had been drinking tea and met Aeroc’s gaze, smiled faintly. Yet, he didn’t put down his pen. He didn’t even approach for a light kiss. His patience was stronger than Aeroc expected. At times like this, Aeroc wanted to call him a stubborn fool with no sense of awareness.

“I’m glad you didn’t object to sending the kids away. What came over you?”
“Sometimes you need a break too.”
There were other reasons as well. Raphiel liked music, so Aeroc planned to hold a small concert under the pretext of thanking him. The guests would be limited to about thirty people, at most. The garden was full of flowers, so they could decorate the tables with them, and champagne… to use what was in the cellar, he would have to coax that miser again. And candles would be needed for late at night. All the remaining candles were used up last time. If he asked to buy a hundred new boxes… that miser would surely throw a fit. What to do…

Lost in thought, Aeroc placed his second, now cold, cup of tea on the table and glanced at the desk.

Kloff, who had been so passionately engrossed in calculations just moments ago, was now leaning back in his chair, asleep.

“You were just talking to me as if nothing was wrong.”
The large leather chair creaked slightly as it tilted back under his weight. The corner of the backrest, which comfortably supported his large frame, was slightly curved forward to make it easy to rest his head. Kloff rested his forehead on that spot and breathed rhythmically.

“Kloff?”
Aeroc called out softly. The man, who was sensitive to the slightest sound from the distant playroom, showed no reaction. His closed eyes were unusually pale. It was because he hadn’t been getting enough sleep lately. With the children and other household chores already making his days short, and now having to manage the Ministry of Finance, he simply didn’t have enough hours, leading to naturally reduced sleep. Unable to bear it, Aeroc had once suggested that he could take a break from the Ministry of Finance work.

“I don’t want to remain just a Count’s wife.”
Kloff stubbornly insisted. Aeroc countered, asking if he really needed to be equal to his spouse.

“Your attitude of taking your superiority for granted is annoying.”
His grumbling tone was quite serious. It seemed he had other hidden motives, but he adamantly refused to speak of them. Why did he suddenly need a title? It didn’t feel like it was merely a desire for social advancement. There was no evidence, but it was a gut feeling.

Anyway, since it was a choice he made himself for a secret reason, he rarely complained to others. Even now that he had a family, he tried to solve most problems on his own. Kloff Bendyke was an independent Alpha. Sometimes, it would be nice if he could lean on the Count of Teiwind.