Welcome to the Rose Mansion - Chapter 93
Alan’s ragged breathing stopped abruptly. His bloodshot eyes turned toward Richelle.
Richelle smiled bitterly.
“Living was burdensome. When a carriage barely missed me, I was convinced I wouldn’t have regretted it at all if I had been run over and died.”
“……”
“But now, I don’t want to die. I want to live a bit longer.”
Alan, who had been staring at Richelle as if spellbound, moved his lips.
“……How?”
“Because truly precious people helped me.”
On the day she wanted to throw herself into the canal, the cake Margaret fed her from a famous patisserie was incredibly sweet.
When she wandered the streets after fighting with her mother, the roast beef at the restaurant she was led into by a solicitous waiter was exceptionally delicious.
It was a very small, insignificant happiness.
But in the deep darkness Richelle was walking through, that tiny happiness sparkled like a gem.
When those sparks accumulated one by one, and the depression that seemed ready to devour her at any moment receded,
Richelle finally realized.
You can’t always be happy while living. The river of sorrow will always lie in wait to swallow you.
But there were stepping stones called happiness on that river. They could be large stones or small ones barely enough to step on.
But regardless of their size, as long as you cross the river, drawn to those pretty, sparkling stones bit by bit.
Even if you fall into the water for a moment, knowing that you can quickly step out onto a stone again,
You realize life isn’t as burdensome as it seems. You start looking forward to finding the next stepping stone and feel proud of how far you’ve come.
And as you feel the refreshing breeze passing over your wet body, you think,
It’s a good thing I didn’t give up that day, a good thing I stayed alive.
Richelle wanted to gift this realization to Alan.
To a boy feeling even deeper despair than she once did, she wanted to extend the helping hand she had once desperately wished for.
“When we leave Bertrand, I will take your hand and lead you. I’ll show you all the joys the world has to offer. I’ll help you reclaim all the happiness you rightfully deserved that Rogéros took away.”
Alan’s eyes turned red. Richelle spoke firmly.
“The tragedy of the Otis family didn’t happen because of you. My mother’s death wasn’t your fault either.”
“……”
“So let’s live, Alan. I want you to live. I hope that one day, you’ll have a moment when you think, ‘I’m glad to be alive.'”
“……Why.”
Alan struggled to speak through his choked voice.
“Why… why are you so determined to help me? I’m not worth your time and life.”
“Who determines that worth? And Alan, you don’t need a reason to help or love someone.”
“What kind of idealistic…”
Alan bit his lip and hung his head. Richelle gently stroked his shoulder.
She hoped this warmth would help him.
“You helped me many times without any reason, didn’t you? When I had a cold, and when I confronted the chef. Why did you do that?”
“…I just didn’t want to see more people die in this mansion.”
“Then I don’t want to see you die either.”
“Is that the same thing?”
Alan’s eyes widened. Richelle shrugged her shoulders.
“It is the same. But if you really don’t understand, think of it as repaying the favor for saving my life.”
She said playfully to lighten the mood. Finally, a faint sound of laughter escaped Alan’s lips.
“Your life sure is expensive.”
Alan looked up at the ceiling. When he lowered his gaze again, his sky-blue eyes held a resolute determination.
“There is another way to break the contract. But it requires an outsider, someone unrelated to the Otis family, to risk their life.”
“It sounds like you need me.”
Alan took a deep breath and clasped his hands together, showing a hint of tension.
“There was a bet between Charlotte Otis and Rogéros.”
“A bet?”
“Yes. They bet whether an outsider, someone who knows nothing about Bertrand or the Otis family, could find out Rogéros’s real name. Rogéros promised that if anyone ever discovered his true name, he would leave Bertrand immediately.”
A strange bet. But the most surprising thing was…
“…Rogéros has a real name?”
“I don’t know what it is either.”
Richelle touched her chin, deep in thought. A bet between Rogéros and Charlotte Otis.
Rogéros’s obsession with the Otis family was beyond imagination. The fact that he agreed to the bet must mean he was confident no one would ever guess correctly.
