My Beloved, Whom I Desire to Kill - 305

—My lipstick is all smeared!

She ran to the passenger seat, took out a mirror and her lipstick, and only stood next to the village sign after fixing her makeup. Edwin raised the camera to his eye, framing the shot, and warned her,

—Be good if you don’t want your lipstick to get all messed up again.

Click.

She didn’t stick out her tongue but gave him a slight glare. People who see this photo in the future will misunderstand and think it was taken right after a lover’s quarrel. The rosy flush left by the passionate kiss wouldn’t show up in the picture.

They got back in the car and drove into the village. As they drove down the unpaved road, an old man in a straw hat came the opposite way, driving a cart pulled by a donkey.

The road was narrow, so Edwin pulled the car tightly to the side. As the old man passed, he tipped his hat in thanks, smiling so broadly that his facial wrinkles deepened.

Giselle was surprised to encounter anyone. Only then did she realize she had implicitly believed that after the massacre, all the living, like herself, would have left, turning the village into a ghost town.

The car entered the cobblestone main street of the village. Clear church bells rang out from the towering spire of the cathedral. In the small fountain in the middle of the village square, children were cooling off, clustered together and playing in the water.

It was an entirely ordinary, living scene.

The residents seemed peaceful, and the houses were intact, as if the village had not experienced any massacres, occupations, or bombings during the current war.

The buildings were largely unfamiliar to Giselle; many would have been newly built after being destroyed and burned during the Swan Lake Incident. Only one or two matched her memory.

However, the roads were the same. Whether Edwin remembered or had scouted it out beforehand, the car never stopped, leaving the paved road to drive on a dirt path before stopping in front of a familiar farmhouse.

The Rudnik home.

It was the house where Giselle was born.

This place, too, was intact. Of course, a house that had been unoccupied for over ten years couldn’t have maintained its exact appearance.

Though the color of the roof and window frames was exactly as Giselle remembered, they were new, likely having been replaced after rotting away. Edwin had once said that he would take on the management of the house since Giselle was too young to own it. While Giselle had completely forgotten, he had quietly kept his promise.

—Wow… how is it that nothing has changed since I left?

—Really? That’s fortunate.

She took Edwin’s hand and looked around outside before going in. The interior, too, was dust-free, suggesting he had contacted the caretaker in advance.

But the family’s presence had not been wiped away.

She lingered in the kitchen, touching the items her mother used every day, then went upstairs to the children’s floor to trace the signs of her siblings.

Three books, read by her brother—the only sibling who could read at the time—were on the dresser. She hadn’t known their content then, but now she could read the titles on the spines. Unlike the other siblings’ belongings, these she flipped through with a smile.

On the bed that her father had clumsily built still sat four worn-out cloth dolls, handed down and down until they were threadbare. There were originally five, but Sasha’s favorite was buried with the child in the ground.

Giselle was about to leave the room when her steps halted past the doorway. Her eyes were caught by the many, scattered markings etched into the door frame.

Her parents had recorded the children’s heights on this door frame every year on the first morning. The knife marks, carved with initials or nicknames, were all below Giselle’s current eye level.

What was intended to be a record of growth had become a memorial for the children who could grow no more.

If only you had held on a little longer… If only I had found the strength to protect you…

As she looked down at the marks with deep regret, Edwin turned her around. Was he going to comfort her, thinking she was about to cry? Giselle was about to say she was fine, but he smiled and pushed her backward until her back touched the door frame.

—Hold still.

He pulled out and opened his pocketknife. A similar smile spread across her face as she realized what he was about to do.

Edwin carved the height of —Natty,— who had grown to full adulthood.

Giselle snatched the knife and set him in the same spot.

There was a column at Templeton Manor where the Eccleston children’s heights were also recorded. Edwin had recorded Giselle’s growth there, despite the Duchess of Roxworth’s grumbling.

The young Giselle used to compare herself to the mark labeled —Eddie,— wondering how tall she was compared to the man. She had wanted to catch up to this man so badly back then, but she realized now she’d been dreaming an impossible dream.

The man’s crown barely reached the top of the door frame. The spot where she needed to make the mark wasn’t visible. Giselle stood on her tiptoes, and as if that wasn’t enough, she practically leaned on him to carve the height.

Because Edwin was a family member who deserved to be recorded here, too.

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She thought they would look around the house briefly and then get back in the car.

But for some reason, Edwin took Giselle’s hand and walked toward the backyard. They passed through the wicket gate in the fence that marked the property line and entered the next property without stopping.

A squat man with sun-darkened skin emerged from the wide-open shed door, dusting his hands off. He turned his head, spotted the two of them, and flinched.

He must be annoyed that outsiders came in without permission.

Giselle stopped, worried about an awkward situation, but Edwin walked straight toward him as if he had only been waiting for the owner to appear. The man stared intently at them with a confused look, then slapped his forehead as if he’d remembered something.

—Ah, forgive me. You said you’d be coming today.

It meant Edwin had arranged the visit beforehand. Relieved, Giselle also approached. The man, who was shaking hands with Edwin, had his eyes widen when he saw her.

—Then is this young lady Natty from the Rudnik house?

Her nickname, spoken by a stranger.

—You… know me?

It was the Rozell dialect, which she hadn’t used in so long, and Giselle stammered, feeling awkward about her own accent.

The man turned out to be the former neighbor who had lived next door. He had been drafted during the Swan Lake Incident, returned alive, and had stayed here ever since.

—I’m finally able to meet you and thank you.

The old neighbor offered Edwin another handshake.

—Thank you for letting my mother rest in peace.

He was the son of the woman who had shared rotten potatoes with young Giselle, who had been innocently killed by the Konstance military, and whose body Edwin had recovered and buried.

—Feel free to look around. I’ll be inside, so call me if you need anything.

After the greeting, the man headed back to the house. Edwin, still holding Giselle’s hand, walked slowly as if to follow, but then stopped and looked around.

—I think it was around here… What do you think?

He was looking for the exact spot where he had first met Giselle.

—I don’t know… it seems like it might be around here……..

She knew it was on the path from the shed to the house, but she had been so distraught at the time that she couldn’t possibly remember the exact location.

The season and the scenery were different now. The ground, where not just grass but people had died and blood had frozen, was covered in the bright green light of life. A few curious chicks, which had been pecking at dandelions, chirped as they approached Giselle’s feet, then suddenly scampered away.

—But why are we h—…….

Giselle, who had been looking down at the ground, turned back to Edwin and was startled, unconsciously taking a step back to follow the chicks.

Edwin was kneeling on one knee, looking up at Giselle. Only then did she realize why this man had wanted to come to her hometown.

To propose in the very place they first met.

Holding a ring box in one hand, he took Giselle’s left hand and began his proposal.

—Giselle.

She had expected this day to come, but now that it was here, she felt helpless. Her breath instantly grew shallow. She couldn’t remember how to breathe.

She completely understood the man from yesterday.

Yet, her heart was racing so fast that the thumping echoed to her fingertips. Edwin must have felt the tremor, as he gripped her hand tighter.

—I believe that bright sunshine shines behind every dark cloud. Because the war, which made me regret becoming a soldier, brought me the greatest fortune of my life.

—That’s a fortune you created yourself. You saved the love of your future.

A fond smile passed between the lovers, whose eye level was not that different even with him kneeling.

—The essence of love has changed over time, but from that moment until now, and forever, I have loved you unchangingly.

—And I have always loved you, from that day until now.

Perhaps the reason Giselle had never said —I love you— first was because this man kept snatching the opportunity away.

His lips, etched with joy, drew into a determined straight line. It was the signal that he was about to speak the most important words.