Chapter 191:
Next, I Threw You Out of My Life
WARMING HER CORE with the hot milk Marin had brought, Violette sighed heavily, relieving the tension in her shoulders. Not even three minutes had passed, yet she and Yulan shared an understanding that neither could bear to stay for long. She set down her empty cup, rose slowly to her feet, and glanced anxiously around the room.
“Just tell me what big items you want moved, and I’ll take care of those later,” Yulan told her. “For now, just gather up small things you want to take with you today.”
“Things I want to take with me…”
Some time had passed since Violette last called this room hers, yet not much appeared to have changed. The decor didn’t reflect her personality. No cute little trinkets adorned the shelves, nor could one spot a single photograph. Violette’s scent hung in the air, yet not a fragment of her presence was embedded in the chamber itself. All evidence of the resident’s life was so diluted that nobody would’ve known this was her room unless told.
“Oh—!”
Jolted from her dazed appraisal of the room by a sudden recollection, Violette quickly made her way to the closet. Yulan, who stood waiting nearby, expected her to take out clothes or jewelry. This wasn’t an appropriate place for a young man like him to be, and he recognized that it would be prudent to avert his gaze or leave the room until Violette had packed the travel bag Marin gave them.
“Yulan—”
“Hm?”
Yulan had discreetly turned his back, but Violette returned to his side and spoke to him, seeming not to care whether he peeked. A hesitant glance revealed that she hadn’t brought over anything resembling clothing. Yulan half turned, assuming she’d instead taken jewelry or other small items from the closet.
The cheeks of the formerly ashen Violette were now faintly dyed pink above her soft smile.
“Did you find a treasure?” Yulan asked.
“I did. Do you remember this?”
Violette opened her gently cupped hands, smiling distantly. In her hands sat a transparent pouch. The memory shut inside had faded in color with the years but kept its shape.
“Is that…?”
“It’s the Christmas gift you gave me, Yulan. I asked Marin to hide it someplace safe for me.”
Yulan had crafted the drab Christmas wreath himself. He remembered presenting it to Violette triumphantly. His workmanship was terribly shoddy, however. The wreath was neither colorful nor large enough to compare to a store-bought one, and since he hadn’t tied it with an adequate ribbon, it scarcely resembled a present at all.
At the time, he’d been satisfied with the gift, since Violette had seemed delighted to receive it. After the fact, though, his immaturity riddled him with shame and regret.
“Thank goodness nobody rummaged in my closet. Only Marin knew where this was hidden, and I just found it by coincidence.”
Caressing the nylon surface of the pouch containing the wreath, Violette’s eyes crinkled with her nostalgic smile. She was either remembering the day Yulan gave her the gift or the day she’d stumbled across it—it didn’t matter which. It was more important that the gift made her happy enough to gaze at it with such fondness.
“I definitely want to bring this with me. I’m glad I found it.”
She wouldn’t have been surprised if her room had been turned upside down the day she ran away. Truth be told, until arriving today, Violette had only imagined the worst-case scenario. Still, she’d held a glimmer of hope that—at the very least—her closet drawer would be spared.
In fact, Violette’s imagined concerns had been borne out. If Chesuit hadn’t stopped her father’s rampage, he’d have ransacked her room like a robber, thrown out all her things, and turned the chamber into a storage closet. Violette hadn’t been informed of Chesuit’s heroics, nor of his firing. There was no need to hurt her with yet another painful truth.
“You kept it…all these years.”
Yulan had just assumed his gift had been thrown out. Even if Violette cherished the wreath, there were far too many other risk factors in her home—particularly Bellerose. She’d still been alive back then, forcing Violette to look like the spitting image of the young Auld.
“I never thought I’d be reunited with the darn thing in this context,” Yulan said. “It’s just as awful as I remember. My knots are atrocious.”
Violette chuckled softly. “My only recourse was to hide it… Thankfully, it remained untouched that way.”
“Well, to me, it’s just one big embarrassment.” Yulan pouted, puffing his cheeks.
Violette giggled in her big-sisterly way. Her resilience was a relief to Yulan. Still, they were in enemy territory. They could reminisce over sweet memories after leaving this house.
“Vio, is that wreath all you need?”
“Yes. Between this and the things Marin and Chesuit already gathered for me, there’s nothing else I treasure here.”
“If you say so…” Yulan replied doubtfully.
“Oh! But I must bring my gemstone with me.”
“Gemstone?”
“A friend and I are having matching accessories made. That stone is also sort of the only valuable I’ll have to my name now.”
Her plan all along had been to sell her jewelry to repay her debts. In reality, Violette didn’t have a cent. When she got engaged and left the house, she’d given up everything. She had no claim to this estate.
As it was, she was already relying solely on Yulan, but she at least wanted to fulfill a personal promise. As for her other jewelry, she’d received it all from her late mother, and tradition dictated that she take the pieces as dowry. However…
“I don’t want any of those.”
All her mother’s heirloom jewels—necklaces, thick bracelets, rings set with giant gemstones—sparkled radiantly, drawing attention. To Violette, though, they were collars, shackles, and chains of bondage.
The jewelry should’ve been beautiful, but every piece felt like a fetter to her. Her father had likely felt similarly about her mother’s things and thus passed everything on to her. Even her parents’ wedding rings were shut away in their case in a closet, long forgotten.
“This house… My mother… I don’t want any of it.”