A Monodrama for Carolyn August - Chapter 51

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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Episode 51.
Her reliable backing had vanished.
There was no grand mansion to return to.
The money her parents had sent her—money that made a ballet dancer’s salary seem meager—no longer arrived.
Michelle could neither accept her transformed circumstances nor adapt to them.
And so she depended entirely on Martin.
Fear was the reason.
She had never once lived without her parents’ support.
Even as a commoner, she had enjoyed the culture of the upper classes, indulged in luxury.
But now she could not.
The world had turned upside down.
‘This can’t be happening.’
Instead of abandoning her old habits, Michelle treated Martin as her lifeline.
‘Martin, can we really spend money like this? Are you some sort of prince?’
‘Don’t worry, my love.’
‘I don’t understand what kind of person you are.’
‘Your lover, my dear. What else would I be?’
Though Martin fell silent whenever Michelle asked about the source of his wealth or his true identity.
She loved the man deeply.
Even if he poured money out endlessly and whispered his love through his body.
He was a man who guarded his own secrets with ruthless silence.
It did not matter to her that he kept secrets.
As long as this relationship continued, as long as she could maintain a comfortable and pleasant life.
Martin was her everything.
“Mileva.”
“Yes, Michelle!”
“I think I’m pregnant.”
“What?”
And less than a year after coming of age, when she found herself carrying his child.
Michelle decided to accept married life with him.
Pregnant, she had to quit ballet.
She could no longer perform, and after giving birth, it would be difficult to dance with her changed body.
‘I wasn’t going to rehearsals much anyway after meeting Martin. Everyone resented me, so it’s for the best.’
Michelle had risen to prima ballerina not only through outstanding talent but also through her parents’ wealth.
After her parents’ downfall, Martin had taken their place.
Even as Michelle grew careless in her dancing, she could still command attention as the lead; even when she made mistakes or moved sluggishly, she could continue to take the stage.
There was nothing to regret.
She had gained much as a dancer, so living while raising a child was acceptable.
With Martin as her husband, she thought nothing would feel lacking.
‘He will be enough.’
The foolish director and assistant director looked upon Michelle, now with child, with pitying eyes.
Leaving them and her fellow dancers behind, Michelle departed the ballet company.
‘Pathetic. As if I don’t know how to live.’
And she wrote a letter to Martin.
Though she did not know where he lived.
He had given her an address where she could send letters.
‘He’ll come for me soon.’
What expression would he wear when she told him about the child?
Would tears fill his eyes?
Would he cry out in joy?
It was a pleasant thought.
But more than four days passed without a reply.
She learned only much later that the man who had abandoned her was a member of the nobility.
Michelle had nowhere to go, and with each passing day, her belly grew heavier.
Had her closest friend Mileva not offered her a room out of pity, she surely would have ended up on the streets.
“Don’t be startled when you hear this, Michelle.”
“Why?”
“I’m afraid the child will be hurt if you’re too shocked and angry.”
“What more could go wrong here?”
Michelle laughed bitterly.
She had already drunk alcohol and smoked cigarettes multiple times.
Could the child’s fate possibly be any worse?
There was barely three months left before the baby arrived, yet Martin still had not responded.
“That man. I’ve found out who he is.”
“What?”
Michelle pushed herself up from the desk with trembling hands.
The violent motion left her so unsteady she could barely keep her balance.
Mileva quickly steadied her and lowered her onto the sofa, but even then Michelle’s body shook in convulsive tremors.
“I need— I need a drink.”
“No. Listen to me with a clear head.”
Mileva withdrew a sheet of paper from her pocket, folded several times over.
Like a starving dog tearing ravenously at scraps of food.
Michelle unfolded it with shaking hands, her movements rough and hurried.
It was a newspaper from a district that required a carriage ride to reach from where Michelle and Mileva lived.
A photograph that dominated half the page, with text printed beneath.
Michelle found the familiar face of a man beaming broadly at the camera.
“He’s mad. Completely insane.”
In the photograph, Martin wore a formal white coat and smiled pleasantly.
Beside him stood a beautifully adorned woman in a dress of comparable elegance.
The two held hands raised high enough to frame them in the shot, and on their fingers gleamed rings set with enormous stones.
The brilliance of those gems was unmistakable even in print.
And the headline, printed in bold letters:
<Baron’s Second Daughter Becomes Engaged to Count Valentino Idiosus Roman!>
Engaged.
Engaged.
Engaged.
<The two, who share a ring set with a diamond larger than a thumbnail, are said to hold a grand wedding ceremony this coming autumn. A union of a handsome man and a beautiful woman—they, the last representatives of the venerable aristocracy with time running short……>
While Michelle endured over six months of suffering through pregnancy, he had been preparing to marry an aristocratic woman.
“Where do I even begin to be angry?”
When her senses returned, the table was covered with scraps of paper.
The newspaper had been torn to shreds beyond recognition long ago.
“Hiding his identity as an aristocrat? Disappearing the moment he learned about the child? Calmly preparing to marry an aristocratic woman?”
What do you think, Mileva?
Mileva stared at her friend, who had lost her mind.
Not long ago, she had been admired in the ballet company for both her talent and beauty.
Now her eyes were bloodshot, her hair dull and limp, her body skeletal.
“You should be angry about all of it.”
Mileva barely choked back the sickness rising in her throat.
Then she slowly gathered the scraps of paper.
“Let’s think about what we can do, Michelle. He’s an aristocrat. He won’t marry you, and he can’t raise your child.”
“Kill him. We have to kill him! I’ll destroy them all.”
“Let’s choose the option that benefits us, Michelle.”
Mileva remained rational.
She carefully wrote a letter for Michelle to send him, demanding he take responsibility for the child.
“As expected, he didn’t reply?”
It was only natural.
If he were the sort to respond, he wouldn’t have disappeared in the first place.
Nor would he have seduced Michelle, barely past her girlhood, while hiding his identity simply for his own pleasure.
This time, Mileva wrote the letter herself.
In her own hand, to someone other than Martin.
And finally, Michelle received a reply.
“You were right, Mileva.”
Mileva had written to the Second Daughter of Cologne.
Without spelling out all the details, she merely stated that the man the Second Daughter was soon to marry harbored a secret, and suggested she ask him about it before the wedding.
Less than a day later, an envelope bearing expensive stationery arrived like an arrow.
“All those letters I sent to Martin came back unopened. Even the ones he did read never got a response. But this way—it works.”
Michelle received a Mansion from Count Valentino Idiosus Roman.
In exchange for their silence about the relationship and the child who would later be named Aiden.
It overlooked a lake and was furnished with all manner of artworks and sculptures.
An aristocrat’s Mansion with gardens equally elaborate.
A place valuable enough to be coveted by many aristocrats.
Therefore, Michelle could live comfortably until her child reached adulthood simply by selling artworks.
It was enough money that she might never have to work again, even until her dying day.
‘Michelle will live well now.’
And that was a miscalculation.

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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