A Monodrama for Carolyn August - Chapter 52

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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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Chapter 52.
The Mansion was put up for auction and subsequently purchased by an unknown entity named Belota Darvel.
After that, the Mansion came to be known as the Darvel Mansion.
Mileva severed contact with Michelle after she left her home to live in the Mansion.
She had to continue her life as a dancer, and that would inevitably bring pain to Michelle.
Yet despite this, they exchanged letters regularly with each passing season.
Time passed swiftly.
Mileva married Ivan, a theater director she had met by chance, and had a child with him.
He was now a rising director known for obsessing over every single prop in his productions.
That morning, as always, he was wracking his brain over a particular problem.
“I need a sculpture, Mileva. It has to feel antiquated, but not too classical.”
Could such props be easily procured?
As she pondered this, she thought of someone who might have just what he needed.
Michelle.
Her Mansion would surely contain what her husband was looking for.
And so Mileva set out for the Darvel Mansion with Ivan.
“Sir.”
They had just stepped off the train at the station near the Darvel Mansion and were reaching for a carriage when it happened.
Ivan was standing in the street while Mileva rested indoors.
A small boy in a hat tugged at Ivan’s sleeve.
He could guess what was coming.
A child accosting a stranger at a train station—it was always the same story.
Ivan was about to push the boy away, saying he had no spare money, when—
“Please, sir, help us. Our parents are gone. It’s just me and my sister—we survive by begging. We have nowhere to sleep, so we get beaten and move from shop to shop.”
Ivan looked at the boy’s face and fell into thought.
A moment later, he gave the boy all the spare money he had and took him to a nearby shop.
He asked what kind of pastry he liked,
“Ginger pastry,” the boy answered.
And he pressed the unusual delicacy into the child’s arms.
“Why did I do that, dear?”
“I’m not sure. But there must have been a reason, don’t you think?”
Once in the carriage, Ivan found himself questioning why he had given such generous money to the boy.
For someone who did not squander his funds, it was an astonishing act.
The trembling of the small hand that had seized his sleeve, the worn and stained hat and shirt.
His ragged breath and the tears that had pooled in those green eyes.
Even his uncommon beauty, despite his youth, had played a part.
‘Is it because a child will soon be born to us? My heart was moved.’
Tilting his head at this realization, Ivan soon arrived at the Darvel Mansion.
As he stepped from the carriage, he could not suppress his admiration.
A sprawling garden, fountains, and sculptures.
When he entered the interior, it was filled with artworks of every kind.
‘This is exactly the space I had envisioned.’
And then the lady of the Mansion descended before him.
“Ah, Madame Darvel.”
“Michelle!”
“Welcome, Mr. Anderson. Come in, Mileva.”
Mileva’s former friend, resplendent in an elaborate Dress, came down the stairs to greet Ivan.
She seemed not to have aged a day.
Though eight years had passed, though she had borne a child, Michelle appeared as youthful and spirited as ever.
They went inside and conversed.
Michelle was intensely curious about their circumstances, and Ivan carefully requested to borrow the sculpture from the Garden.
She seemed reluctant, but ultimately accepted his request.
It was likely due to the rental fee he offered and their shared history.
“Thank you ever so much.”
“Think nothing of it. Between Mileva and myself…….”
One peculiar thing was that only a single servant appeared during meals and teatime.
Though it seemed incongruous with such a grand Mansion, Ivan surmised it was Michelle’s consideration for him and his wife.
He was not accustomed to being attended by many people.
Since they had achieved their goal of borrowing the Sculpture,
he enjoyed the teatime with relative freedom while his wife rekindled her friendship with her old companion.
“The Mansion is truly magnificent, Michelle. I wish I could collect artworks like these one by one.”
“Then, the happiness that art brings—it’s beyond words.”
“You look so joyful right now. You remind me of yourself when you first joined the ballet company.”
“Do I?”
The two of them laughed together, their voices bright and easy.
“How many artworks were originally in the Mansion? Even though you must have sold several, there’s such a harmonious variety remaining.”
“Sold?”
“The artworks, I mean.”
“Why would I sell them? They’re all mine.”
When Michelle’s tone turned cold, Mileva felt an instinctive chill—something was wrong.
“You didn’t sell any of them?”
“Of course not. Why would I part with such beautiful things?”
“But Michelle…”
Mileva fell silent, teacup in hand, lost in thought. How could Michelle possibly be living without selling everything in the Mansion?
As far as Mileva knew, Michelle had no income.
“Then how have you managed to live all this time?”
“There’s the money that man gave me along with the Mansion.”
“Ah, that money?”
Mileva, who had been nodding absently, froze mid-gesture.
It didn’t add up.
The sum Roman Count had given along with the Mansion was not substantial—merely enough for frugal Mileva to live on alone for five years.
Eight years had already passed, and now Michelle was…
“What a beautiful dress, Michelle. Did you purchase it recently?”
“You noticed right away! Yes, I bought it just the other day. It came as a set with jewelry, a special edition actually…”
She was living in extravagance, as she had in her girlhood.
It didn’t add up.
“You really didn’t sell any of the artworks?”
“I’m telling you, no! Well, a few times, but not by me—by our troublemaker Aiden. I scolded him firmly, and he hasn’t done it since.”
Mileva swallowed hard and looked away from Michelle, who had already resumed talking about the dress and jewelry with renewed animation.
She exchanged a worried glance with her husband across the table.
Ivan understood immediately why his wife was troubled.
No income, no sales of goods—how could she possibly be living like this?
Yet as guests dependent on her hospitality, they could not afford to let it show; Ivan simply smiled and said nothing.
Leaving his wife to sink back into the pleasant conversation,
Ivan sipped his coffee and gazed out at the vista beyond the Mansion walls.
Beautiful hedgerows and gardens stretched before him.
As Ivan peered through the window overlooking the Mansion’s front gate, his eyes narrowed.
‘Did I imagine that?’
His body went rigid as he realized he had not.
The fine hairs on the back of his neck rose.
A young boy was walking through the closed front gate.
The same beggar boy who had clutched at Mileva’s sleeve.
* * *
After a lavish dinner, when all had retired to sleep,
Ivan rose quietly from his room, lantern in hand.
Mileva, exhausted from the day’s exertions, had fallen asleep at once, but Ivan found sleep impossible.
Even after catching sight of himself in the window, the boy had revealed nothing.
During the meal with Michelle, he had not acknowledged them at all—that strange young boy.
Michelle’s son. Aiden. Ivan meant to find him.
There was no need to wake Mileva; she knew nothing of this.
‘The boy himself only just entered his room, so he can’t have fallen asleep yet.’
As Ivan moved without hesitation down the corridor, something blocked his path.

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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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