Prologue
"Heaven's Hill.
This place, which might have been hell for someone else, was paradise to me.
Like a perennial meadow, my life was reborn in this place.
A ghostly mist engulfed the world during the summer.
Passing through the autumn when light and life began to slumber,
And the fierce northern wind rattled the windows on winter nights.
I sat by the fireplace, arranging dried flowers, awaiting for the approaching spring.
When the season of babbling brooks arrived,
I stood barefoot on the hill, gazing at the emerald fields.
As I breathed in the earthy scent and the clear, humid air, a name always came to mind.
Cain Vanderbilt.
The name of a husband who doesn't love me, who never returns.
I clenched that name in my mouth, only to release it gently,
And my husband, riding the wind, dispersed into the void.
Though waiting for him was not permissible for me,
I awaited my estranged husband, who abandoned me with each passing season.
Hoping that his carriage would appear along the path amidst the thickets.
It was only when he finally returned to me that I realized."
"This place revealed itself to be anything but a Heaven's abode to me.
The sin of my love for you,
And the sin of your lack of affection towards me,
Has transformed my paradise into a hell."
***
Throughout the funeral period, the rain fell incessantly, and even on the third day when it stopped, the ever-present gray sky and damp fields of Everdeen still exuded a somber atmosphere. Few people came to pay their respects, and it was unclear if it was due to the weather or their indifference.
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The funeral of Rose, the hostess of Gravebrick Cottage, was conducted with simplicity. As she did in life, her name on the tombstone read Rose Lynn Herzog. Despite being a Vanderbilt hostess, she refused to use her husband's surname and instead used her family's name.
No one came anymore. Only the flock of crows circled the sky and emitted gloomy sounds over the cemetery. Cain looked at the inscription on his mother's tombstone and then turned his gaze away. Laila, Rose's daughter-in-law and his wife, stood motionless in her black mourning attire. No emotions were visible in her blue eyes reflected in the veil.
With a short sigh, he spoke up.
"Let's go back now."
Only then did Laila turn her body and look at Cain's face. Her lively eye color was as hazy as the autumn of Heaven’s Hill. His chest sank. She had never looked at him with such eyes before. He had never even tried to prevent her from shivering from the cold. He couldn't accept those eyes that he had never allowed.
"That's enough."
"Laila."
Cain narrowed his eyes harshly, as if he understood the meaning of her words. He knew what she was talking about.
"Everything went according to your plan."
“…….”
"Since you've signed the documents...."
Laila, once innocent and fragile, hardened herself enough to solidify my intentions. With his marks engraved upon my being, I prepared myself to confront him.
"Please grant me a divorce."
He requested, saying that wherever he was, it was hell, and he asked me to send him away.
"It can't be that way, Laila."
The circumstances had changed from before. This place hadn't become hell, but rather, paradise had never existed from the beginning. It was merely her delusion, hers alone. Therefore, I couldn't let go.
If a place without me is paradise, then live in hell for a lifetime, Laila.
***
Chapter 1 - Blessing
In the year the child was born, many events unfolded. There were droughts and famines that made their occasional appearances in history, along with exorbitant taxes and the opulence and tyranny of the emperor. As always, thereafter came the inevitable outpouring of the people's anger and rebellion.
Among the quick-witted nobles, some read the trend early and sided with the commoners. Led by their initiative, a revolt ensued, leading to the fall of the palace and the scent of blood wafting through the capital. It was on that day, amidst the decaying fish remnants and the most destitute and dangerous alleyways of the capital city of Monqpar, that the child came into the world.
Delma, a middle-aged woman who sold fish in the streets, found the child while chasing mice and flies. She was rough and uneducated, and her decision to pick up the child was not driven by sympathy. Rather, it was the thought that the cloth enveloping the child seemed expensive enough to fetch a penny or two if sold.
"What shall I call you?" Delma murmured as she carried the child through the Piaud Square. It was a time when the imprisoned emperor and empress were about to be executed, and the crown prince was on the brink of facing a public trial. In response to the executioner's inquiry if he had any final words, he bellowed, spitting blood into the air.
"Laila! My Laila!"
It meant "light in the darkness." People speculated that it might be the name of a hidden lover.
Delma, who had no interest in how the world turned or who lived and died, chuckled as if she had resolved a headache-inducing matter upon hearing the sound.
"Laila, that name should do."
Thus, the girl obtained the name Laila through a lackluster and simple process. And as the wife of Delma's unemployed gambler husband, Marshall Dunst, she became Laila Dunst.
As Laila grew, she pondered whether it would have been better to die, suffocated under a pile of fish waste.
Delma, who had saved her from her impending death, was not the light in the darkness. Until Laila turned twenty, her life exuded a stench more unbearable than the foul odor of fish.