Chapter 2 – Kingston (Part 3)

Evelyn struggled to find words to respond. She tried not to be swept away by this sudden situation. Why didn’t she wish to return to her homeland? There was no reason for her to answer that question.

“That’s a matter unrelated to this issue.”

“It seems related to my understanding of your strong refusal, Miss Dale.”

The man didn’t yield a single word. Contrary to his tall, robust physique that gave off a strong impression, his tongue was sharp. Quick-witted, logical, confident, and even relaxed. Plus, his Trissen was perfect. He was no easy opponent.

When Mrs. Turner had told her someone from the publishing house was here, Evelyn assumed it was editor Higgins again. But waiting for her was a stranger she had never met before. 

Who is he? Could he be the editor-in-chief? 

Just as she grew curious about his position,

“Are you perhaps restricted from returning to your country?”

“What?”

“I understand that entry can be difficult if there are any criminal records. If that’s the case,”

“No, it’s not that.”

She shook her head hastily at the man’s leap of imagination. 

Criminal records? Do I look like someone who fled after committing a crime? 

Evelyn thought wryly. Fled. Yes, she had indeed fled.

Three years ago, on that day, Evelyn boarded a southbound train at Windberg Station but didn’t return to where she had lived. She changed trains once midway and got off at the terminal port. The island nation of Ritten was a day’s sea journey from the central coast. Just before boarding the ship, she sent a letter to her boarding house owner, asking them to dispose of her belongings as they saw fit.

It was a sudden and complete escape.

If someone were to ask why she made such a choice, Evelyn would smile as if it were no big deal and say, “I thought living in Kingston wouldn’t be so bad.”

The capital of the island nation, Kingston, was a city of art. A place where writers, painters, and musicians enjoyed freedom. Artists from the relatively conservative continent admired Kingston. However, Evelyn didn’t come here for creative freedom or artistic inspiration. She didn’t deny her humble motivation. To escape. To avoid.

Yes, she had come here to run away.

At that time, Evelyn was afraid. Jared knew where she lived, the places she frequented, and even the people she occasionally associated with. If he wanted, finding her would have been a matter of time. Someone he sent could knock on her door at any moment. That’s why Evelyn had to leave her homeland.

She was afraid. Afraid that he wouldn’t send someone. Afraid that he would be satisfied with the result, relieved to be rid of a troublesome burden that disappeared on its own. Evelyn didn’t want to be holed up in her room, tormented by such thoughts. She didn’t want to live, resenting him, hating herself, and yet hoping that someone he sent might still come, listening intently to the footsteps outside the door.

So she left.

She decided never to return.

To forget everything completely.

At that time, she did.

“I vowed not to return.”

Three years and three months since then. For the first time, Evelyn uttered those words aloud. To a man she hadn’t known for even ten minutes. To a stranger whose identity she still didn’t fully understand.

Words she hadn’t even dared to voice to herself.

“I vowed never, ever to go back.”

“……I see.”

The man nodded, looking far out the window. 

Has he accepted it? 

Just as Evelyn hoped, he turned his face towards her.

The eyes of the man standing by the window, catching the light, were a transparent gray. Those eyes observed her quietly. Then his face tilted slightly.

“You have a very strong sense of self, Miss Dale.”

“I don’t think it’s something to be ashamed of.”

“I’m sorry to say, but I don’t think it’s something to be too proud of, either.”

He smiled apologetically. He was a man whose gentle expressions were ingrained in him, like a gentleman. His gaze, which seemed to see through the other person, and his polite yet very direct manner of speaking were in contrast.

Thinking this, Evelyn focused on him. The man, with a faint smile, continued speaking.

“The self is merely a collection of selected memories. It’s an illusion created by combining some of the words and actions from the past and mistaking it for oneself. But there is no consistent self. The past self is already a non-existent entity, and letting it decide my current actions is not wise.”

“You defend fickleness very logically. Consistency is a precious virtue. It’s a quality that can only be achieved through patience and self-discipline.”

“If you’ll allow me to be a bit more critical, Miss Dale, consistency is merely a glorified term for lazy inertia.”

Evelyn was momentarily at a loss for words. The man didn’t miss that opportunity.

“People don’t easily change their thoughts or perspectives once they’ve formed them. But in many cases, it’s not because those thoughts are truly right, but because they can’t admit they were wrong.”

“……”

“So a truly mature person should be able to choose brave fickleness over lazy consistency.”

Only after saying all that did the man stop. He looked at the woman standing some distance away, his mouth closed. His handsome face under dark blonde hair held an air of expectation. It was as if he was saying, “Now it’s your turn; try to refute me.”

Evelyn reconsidered everything he had said. There were no gaps in his logic or attitude. He was clearly someone who had received a high level of education. He seemed too young to be an editor-in-chief, but education and intelligence don’t always correlate with age.

“Mr. Clifton, your words certainly have merit. But I can’t agree with your disparagement of consistency.”

“I enjoy debating with those who have differing opinions.”

The man laughed readily. Then he took a few steps toward Evelyn. Standing with his back to the window, his eyes were a bluish-gray. The color resembled this city shrouded in dark clouds.

“If that opponent is a beautiful lady, even more so.”

He looked directly at her. Evelyn met his gaze. The man’s eyes, softly observing her, had a peculiar quality. Eyes that held an implicit meaning. Yet they were too composed to be considered flirtatious. They appeared highly intellectual, even somewhat indifferent.

A strange silence flowed between the man and the woman standing face to face. The eye contact lingered longer than necessary. So Evelyn was the first to look away. 

We shouldn’t be talking here. We should have gone to a dining room or café. 

She had started with the intention of briefly refusing and sending him away, but Evelyn belatedly regretted letting the stranger into her room.

“Would you please leave now? I believe I’ve made my intentions clear.”

“If you dislike the publication celebration, I won’t force it.”

“Yes. That’s a welcome relief.”

“But I ask you to please go to Trissen.”

What is he talking about? 

Evelyn lightly furrowed her brow. The man continued speaking immediately.

“Actually, I lied to Mr. Higgins.”

“……”

“The reason for bringing you to Trissen is not for the publication celebration. Let me be honest. I was asked by someone to meet you, Miss Dale.”

There was no time to react. Evelyn’s heart sank. 

To Trissen. Me.

Who?

“Let me tell you in advance that this person is someone very difficult for someone like me to refuse. Someone not accustomed to being turned down. People with titles or estates usually are.”

Someone with a title or estate. Someone very difficult to refuse. Among such people, who else would seek her? Evelyn suddenly felt her mouth go dry, and she lightly moistened her lips before responding.

“……That puts you in a difficult position, Mr. Clifton.”

“Not yet. But if you don’t help me, Miss Dale, I will indeed be in a difficult position.”

“But I must decline. I’m sorry.”

“You don’t ask who that person is.”

“Because I don’t need to know.”

“Isn’t there a difference between what’s necessary and what’s desired?”

“I don’t want to know either.”

“Novelists are usually very curious, but today I’ve finally met an exception.”

The man, who responded as if rehearsed, laughed. His expression and demeanor were so relaxed that he even seemed to be enjoying himself. It seemed Evelyn was the only one struggling to hide her tension.

“Miss Dale, you said you weren’t curious, but I want to tell you. This person is so interesting that it’s a shame to keep it to myself.”

He seemed to find the situation amusing. However, Evelyn bit her lip anxiously. 

Don’t say it. I said I don’t want to know. Please just leave. 

As she shouted in her mind,

“That person resides in Issen.”

The man said. His face faintly smiling. Evelyn looked at that face, filled with interest and anticipation. Issen. Not Windberg. Now she had to try hard not to show any expression and think of an appropriate response.

“……They’re lucky. Every citizen of the Empire wants to live in the capital.”

“In fact, this person is originally from a foreign country.”

“Seems they’re in a situation similar to mine. I don’t know why they left their homeland.”

“I can tell you about that situation. Because their spouse is native to that place.”

Spouse. Not a lady. Unexpected information continued to tangle in her mind. Evelyn could no longer maintain her poker face.

“Were you surprised?”

“A little, because it was unexpected. I didn’t think the person wanting to meet me would be a lady.”

“You’ll be even more surprised when you hear their name.”

Bryant took a step closer. Despite his robust build, his face was very sharp. His cheekbones were moderately prominent, and his jawline was sharp. Well-groomed hair and a completely exposed forehead. Underneath well-defined eyebrows, bluish-gray eyes looked at her.

“Reinus El Issen Fervrante.”

The man’s voice, flowing low, touched her cheek. Evelyn couldn’t believe what she heard.

“Empress Reinus wishes to meet the author Dennis Howle.”