Chapter 6 – Chester (Part 4)

After passing the founder’s statue, the three headed to the accommodation buildings. The townhouses, built of sturdy brick, had large glass windows. Through the windows, the figure of someone writing at a desk could be seen. There were also people sitting on the steps in front of the entrance, basking in the sun while writing. A cat curled up at their feet turned its head at the sound, but the writer, absorbed in their task, didn’t even glance over. The Artist Village was far more thoughtful than Bryant had imagined. It was comfortable, free, and prosperous.

“Is the operating budget of this place entirely supported by Duke Windberg?”

“Not entirely. Writers who move in sign a contract to transfer a portion of the royalties from works written here. It’s still early in the project, so support is needed, but over time it will be a completely self-sufficient system. Established writers support newcomers, who then write works to help new writers again.”

“It’s a kind of writers’ cooperative.”

“Exactly. The Duke has provided the foundation for writers to form a community.”

Manager Bering spoke with a face full of pride. Bryant nodded lightly, and Evelyn said nothing.

Guided by the manager, they also toured the inside of a townhouse. It was a vacant room without any residents. Evelyn seemed to be quite impressed. She pulled back the curtains to look at the view outside and ran her hand over the smooth surface of the desk.

This room had a similar structure to her boarding room in Kingston. The neat furniture also matched the woman’s modest attire. It seemed Bryant wasn’t the only one who thought so, as the timid middle-aged manager Bering made a joke.

“Miss Dale, you look like you belong in this room. It wouldn’t be strange if you moved in immediately.”

Evelyn, standing by the window, looked over and smiled. The sunlight streaming through the green curtains lit her up like a halo. Watching her, Bryant suddenly recalled that day. A cloudy, chilly afternoon in Kingston. The first time he met this woman in a dim boarding room.

No, it wasn’t the first time he met her. He had already met her long before then. Through the two works she had written. Through sentences that expressed emotions and intimate thoughts he had once held, in the clearest and most beautiful way possible. Thinking up to that point, Bryant felt a strange sensation.

He had been connected with Evelyn Dale for a long time. 

How could this woman understand this feeling? Had she ever experienced something like this? 

Like a secret passage connecting the two of them, the unique intimate relationship between writer and reader.

The woman at the window looked at him. Bryant stood and faced her. The strange sensation still lingered. It felt unreal, like being in a dream.

He looked at the woman smiling at him. He thought of the real appearance of the woman who had designed such a bold and intricate story. Evelyn was indeed smart and daring. But she was softer inside than she appeared, shy, and when flustered, her forehead turned red as she fumbled. Thinking of this, Bryant let out a small chuckle.

Additionally, he gained a slight realization. Another reason why he was captivated by Evelyn Dale. He had seen countless cases where the writer and the work didn’t match, and had long since given up the naivety of having illusions about the writer because of the work. But for Bryant, this woman shocked him in a slightly different way.

She was an incredibly attractive subject, both as a writer and as a woman.

So he wanted both. He couldn’t be satisfied as just one of the countless readers. The wit that sparkled when she countered his words, those intelligent eyes and lips. Such things weren’t in her books. He wanted to have everything about the woman who charmed him all to himself.

Therefore, Bryant had to fend off anyone who tried to take her from him. Anyone who tried to separate the woman from his embrace.

Whoever it might be, whatever it might be. He had to fend them off.

*

Chester, true to its nature as a small southern city, was peaceful and warm. Its climate was similar to Issen, but it was said to be somewhat chillier in winter. On very cold mornings, white frost sometimes settled on the green leaves of the trees. However, it was said that the temperature never dropped enough for snow or ice. Spring and autumn were long, winter was short, and summer was very sunny and beautiful.

The manager explained all this in a very kind tone, but it was all information Evelyn already knew.

‘It’s a perfect place. My author dislikes the cold.’

Seeing it in person, this place was indeed perfect for her.

“Is it alright if I don’t accompany you?”

After showing the guests around the management office that doubled as a hall, the manager asked again for confirmation at the entrance. Bryant nodded with a smile.

“Of course. You’ve already shown us everything that needs guidance. We can look around the rest slowly, and if we have questions, we can talk again at the cafeteria.”

“Understood. That seems more convenient for you both. Lunch is served until 1 PM. When shall we meet?”

“Let’s meet in 30 minutes.”

 “Very well. See you then.”

They decided to have lunch at the cafeteria. The manager had prepared a separate lunch, but since they were here, it seemed better to have lunch at the cafeteria used by the writers. It was Bryant’s suggestion, and Evelyn readily agreed.

“Oh, let me ask one thing in advance. What is the auditorium used for?”

“It’s rarely used, so it’s probably locked now. It’s used for concerts, recitals, and sports events. It’s not for the resident writers; it’s rented out to the town residents.”

“I see.”

“It’s a wonderful building, so take a look around. I’ll make sure it’s open.”

“Sure. Thank you.”

“Of course.”

The manager responded politely, smiling and slightly bowing his head. He was also said to be a writer who had published a book in the past. To Evelyn’s eyes, he seemed like a kind and gentle person.

The two left the management office building and headed towards the walking trail. They walked side by side on the path covered with coarse sand. With each step Bryant took, a crunching sound was heard. Evelyn thought the sound was pleasant.

As noon approached, people who had been writing in their rooms began to come outside one by one. Some walked with a book open, reading intently as if they might bump their noses into it. Others stood on the path with a notebook and pen, writing something. Groups of people walked by, chatting. Women were also frequently seen among the groups. Since it was possible to reside there for free as long as they had published works, it must have been a great help for writers struggling financially to continue their creative activities. If there were places like this, they wouldn’t have to worry about paying boarding fees. Thinking this, Evelyn sighed involuntarily.

“It’s such a nice place.”

The words she uttered unconsciously were almost like a sigh. The man walking on her left paused for a moment, then agreed with a short response.

“It is.”

The auditorium, built of gray brick, was almost three stories high. Thick curtains were drawn over the glass windows, so the inside couldn’t be seen. The two turned around the back of the auditorium building. A stream appeared immediately, and beyond the iron fence gate, a forest was visible. The black-painted iron gate was half-open with the lock undone.

“It feels like we’re students sneaking out of the dormitory.”

Bryant joked as he opened the gate and led the way. Evelyn responded with a laugh and followed him through the gate.

It was a fairly dense forest. There were three or four paths, and the distinctive smell of earth and tree sap filled the air. Birdsong, like the sound of flutes, scattered here and there, with a unique rhythm as if several birds were singing in rounds. Listening to the sound, Evelyn quietly smiled.

There were also people scattered throughout the forest. A man was sitting against a stump reading a book, and two women were seen laying out a blanket and having lunch. 

It’s a popular spot. 

Bryant murmured, then asked Evelyn.

“When was the last time you went to a forest?”

“…I think about 3 or 4 years ago.”

“It must have been when you were in Trissen.”

“Yes.”

Responding briefly, Evelyn couldn’t help but recall that day.

The last time she went to a forest was at Evergreen Court. It was a crisp autumn day, and she was with her fiancé. The old villa of the Ducal family was surrounded by a dense forest used as a hunting ground, and since it was private property, there were only timid birds and animals, no people.

Evelyn spent an entire afternoon there. It was a blissfully happy time, like a dream.

“It’s such a long time ago. I barely remember it.”

“You don’t seem to like forests much.”

“That’s not it. I just haven’t had the opportunity to go since living in Kingston.”

“That’s unfortunate. There are many beautiful forests in Ritten.”

Bryant replied in a somewhat formal tone. He didn’t say that he would take her to see the beautiful forests later. And that tugged at Evelyn’s heart. Like a ball kicked by a careless child, it rolled away, feeling lonely.

She hid her feelings and looked up at the man. Bryant was walking in step with her on her left. His profile, with his mouth closed, seemed to be deep in thought. 

What are you thinking? 

She wanted to ask, but Evelyn swallowed the question. If she couldn’t handle it, it was better not to touch it at all. She didn’t want to know what was in his mind. 

Was he measuring the end? Calculating the right time to slowly distance himself? 

If those were his thoughts, she preferred not to know.