Welcome to the Rose Mansion - Chapter 72
Richelle bid farewell to Rogéros and boarded the carriage. As the carriage began to move, the old mansion came into view through the window.
Once a place of shock and awe, now it only instilled fear. Richelle clenched her fists tightly.
What if, just what if.
…What if she ran away?
Away from the mansion, from the overwhelming secrets of the Otis family… could she escape forever?
‘If I can leave the mansion… it might be possible.’
At that moment, she made eye contact with a figure standing by a third-floor window of the mansion.
A boy, with an appearance like an ice sculpture, mouthed something. Richelle read his lips.
‘You must return.’
***
Today, the Black Forest was just an ordinary place that was darker than other forests. She felt no eerie gazes, and no chilling wind blew.
‘Was I just overly sensitive due to the tension?’
Richelle leaned back in her seat, trying to suppress her fatigue.
Thanks to Rogéros preparing a train ticket, she reached Domblinn faster than expected. Richelle skipped meals and kept moving nonstop.
Finally, she arrived at her destination. She stopped and looked up at her old, worn-out little house.
It somehow felt like it had been a long time, even though it had been less than half a year since she left home.
Just as she reached out to ring the bell, the front door suddenly flew open, and a blonde woman in mourning clothes ran out, crying.
“Oh, Richelle!”
The woman ran into her arms with open arms. Richelle willingly embraced her.
Her dear friend who had always been there for her, Margaret Chester.
“You arrived first, Meg.”
“Of course! Oh my, Richelle. You’ve become so thin. Have you eaten anything? Have you slept? Oh, we shouldn’t be standing here like this. Come inside.”
Margaret led her into the house. Her modest home was just as it had been two months ago. The narrow entrance, the creaky hallway.
And, of course, her mother’s little paradise.
“Oh, Miss!”
“Miss, you’re back?”
“It’s been a while, Richelle.”
In the living room, familiar faces greeted her. Nanny Joan, her granddaughter Anna, and Margaret’s husband, Robert Chester.
But her mother was nowhere to be seen.
Of course. Her mother had passed away. The sight of her mother lounging on the living room sofa, complaining, was now a memory she could never see again.
“Miss…”
Joan and Anna approached Richelle cautiously and embraced her. It was a very warm embrace. So warm she wanted to stay there forever.
But she couldn’t. Richelle gently pulled away.
“What happened to my mother?”
“Well…”
Anna hesitated for a long time before tears began to fall from her eyes. She spoke in a strained voice.
“It was a very rainy day. I finished preparing dinner and went to fetch her, but she was nowhere to be found. We found a note saying she had gone for a walk. We went out to search for her…”
“…and?”
“She was walking near the river and fell in. By the time we found her…”
“Richelle!”
The world spun, and Richelle found herself lying on the sofa. She could hear Margaret’s sobs and Robert urgently calling for a doctor.
Richelle closed her eyes tightly. This was a cruel reality.
***
The funeral of Mrs. Catherine Howard was humble.
The connections she had maintained through sheer force in high society after the downfall of the Howard family were useless. Among the ladies Mrs. Howard called friends, only Mrs. Allison, Margaret’s mother, attended the funeral.
The Oliphant Viscount family, Mrs. Howard’s relatives, sent someone, but they left after exchanging greetings with Richelle. Viscount Oliphant and Mrs. Howard had never been close. The Viscount had only tried to fulfill his minimal responsibility towards his niece.
Throughout the funeral, Richelle stood unsteadily, like a puppet with cut strings. She couldn’t take her eyes off her mother’s coffin. The sight of her mother’s bloated body was so horrific that Richelle couldn’t bring herself to look at her one last time.
Dirt fell on the coffin. This was truly the end. Tears she thought had dried up welled again.
‘Just a little more.’
I should have spoken sooner.
That it was too hard. That I needed her help. That we could live well without Father. That I always loved her.
I should have shared my heart more and talked more with her. I should have faced her instead of avoiding her.
Running away and running away, and in the end, it was too late. Foolishly, I thought she would always be by my side.
Richelle looked up at the sky. It was dark and covered with clouds, just like the day she left home. Just like the day her mother died.
As if reflecting her own heart.
