Mermaid Trap

“We meet again here, Vivianne.”

A voice called out as Vivianne was catching her breath in the powder room adjacent to the restroom. It was the last face she wanted to see at that moment.

“That dress suits you well.”

Penelope Stewart praised her in a nonchalant tone.

Seeing their reflections in the mirror, the situation became even more surreal. One man, two seats, and two women wearing the same dress. It seemed like only Vivianne found this bizarre situation unsettling.

“Kian must really cherish you. He couldn’t stop himself from bringing you along, even though he usually only indulges in you at home.”

“……”

“Not a child, but maybe an attachment toy or something?”

Penelope continued to taunt, even though Vivianne gave no response. She understood that people often talk too much when they’re feeling anxious or insecure.

Penelope was clearly feeling threatened and needed reassurance, just as Vivianne had often sought confirmation from Kian.

It was evident what Penelope wanted to confirm: that Vivianne was insignificant to Kian. She wanted Vivianne to fully understand her place.

Vivianne remained silent, finding it ridiculous to engage in this conversation. The tension felt suffocating. Instinctively, she felt she needed to leave this place immediately. She bowed slightly and attempted to exit.

“Wait.”

Penelope blocked the doorway, stopping her. She stepped close to Vivianne and tugged at the neckline of her dress, tearing the fabric slightly and exposing more of her chest.

Penelope’s actions had crossed a line.

“What are you doing?”

“Fixing it to suit you better. It’s boring if the dresses are too identical, isn’t it?”

With that, Kian’s bruise became more visible. Penelope’s lips twisted into a sinister smile.

It was clear that Penelope’s thin thread of composure had snapped.

“…Interesting mark you have there.”

“I’m leaving. Please move.”

“No, we still have unfinished business.”

Penelope poked at the bruise with the end of her folded fan.

“How does it feel to come all the way here with a mark like this, playing the mistress? Does it suit you?”

Theodore was waiting outside. If a scene was caused here, he would be involved as well. Vivianne wanted to resolve this on her own if possible.

She clenched her fists and stood her ground, meeting Penelope’s eyes. Penelope’s face tightened in disbelief.

“Just like they said, you don’t back down easily, do you?”

“What do you mean?”

“I was wondering why you act so bold without understanding your position. I think it’s due to your ignorance about your situation.”

Penelope spoke as if she had heard these words from someone else. Probably from someone as malicious as she was.

Vivianne remembered Countess Spencer muttering about her stupidity.

Not seeing beyond the immediate situation.

They might all see her in the same way: naive and unfit for their world.

“Do you know who bought that dress you’re wearing?”

Penelope suddenly shifted the conversation to the dress.

“Kian bought it for me.”

“No, Kian might have picked it out, but someone else bought it. You didn’t know, did you?”

“What?”

“I sent that dress to Larsson. As a gift for a doll.”

Penelope sent the dress? And Kian chose it knowing that?

“So out of all those dresses, Kian picked the one I sent you.”

It was hard to believe it was a mere coincidence that both of them were wearing the same dress.

Vivianne couldn’t understand Kian’s intentions.

She didn’t want to think about it.

Seeing Kian sitting next to Penelope, staring at her, was enough to make her head feel like it was going to explode.

“Now, take a good look. See who wears it better.”

Penelope turned Vivianne towards the mirror, forcing her to see herself beside Penelope. Penelope looked immaculate, while Vivianne’s dress was torn and disheveled.

“What a pity. No fan to cover up with? Showing everything? Didn’t Kian get you something basic like that?”

“……”

“Here, take mine. It’s hard to come by and quite expensive. Used, but better than nothing. Consider it a gift of friendship.”

Penelope offered the fan with a false sense of generosity, and Vivianne’s gaze hardened. She answered without hesitation.

“I’ll pass.”

“What did you say?”

“I have no desire to be friends with you.”

Vivianne didn’t have the nature to speak harshly, but she drew a clear line.

“Fine, then. But you’ll only make things harder for yourself. Understand?”

“Maybe. But I know you wish me unhappiness.”

Penelope looked taken aback by Vivianne’s firm tone.

“So stop pretending to care about me. I don’t need the burden of false guilt.”

With that, Vivianne brushed past Penelope and exited the powder room. Penelope’s shrill voice followed her, but she paid no attention.

Her clenched fists trembled uncontrollably.

* * *

The ripped neckline was an embarrassing sight to show Theodore, so Vivianne held it closed with her hand. Theodore repeatedly asked if she was alright, but she insisted she was. There was nothing he could do to change the situation.

The hallway was now empty, indicating that the performance had started. The thought of returning to the box and sitting in the empty seat next to Kian made her stomach churn.

But she couldn’t just go home alone. She had arrived in the Larsson carriage and had nowhere else to go but back to the Larsson estate.

No matter where she went, her return was always to the same place: an empty space where Kian’s presence existed but Kian himself was absent. This unchanging reality was suffocating.

With a sigh, Vivianne re-entered the opera box. To her surprise, Kian was sitting in the seat that had been empty before.

“Where did you go, Vivi?”

“…The powder room.”

Vivianne didn’t make eye contact, looking straight ahead as she sat down.

“Did you go with Theo?”

“Yes, he’s my escort.”

“Good. Once the show starts, you can’t leave. I’m glad you made it back in time.”

Kian didn’t press further, despite her curt responses.

“Where were you, Kian?”

“Why ask? You saw me.”

His sarcastic response made her clench her fists. He had seen her looking, seen her surprise, and had said nothing.

Questions she had been afraid to ask bubbled to the surface.

Some said it was pointless to ask because he would never answer honestly. Others said it was a foolish question.

But she couldn’t keep this doubt hidden any longer.

“Are you going to marry your fiancée, Kian?”

Vivianne swallowed hard, fixing her gaze on him.

“Sitting next to her for a moment means we’re getting married?”

“What?”

“By that logic, I could marry you. We’re sitting next to each other during the performance.”

“……”

His reversed logic left her speechless.

“Vivi, ever since you started talking about waltzing, I’ve noticed you don’t trust me.”

“…That’s not true.”

He knew why she had been talking about the waltz. He knew about the article in the newspaper.

So he had skipped the practice intentionally.

The realization felt like another heavy stone pressing down on her chest.

“Fine, I admit I’ve made you feel insecure. But…”

Kian leaned his head to the side, bringing his face closer to hers. His handsome face filled her vision.

“Vivi, you have to trust me. Nothing else.”

His face was devoid of emotion. There was no desperation for trust, no plea for understanding. Just a cold, calculating gaze.

It was unnerving how he looked at her, as if he couldn’t understand why she didn’t trust him. His gaze was so intense it was chilling. As she froze, Kian gently removed her hand from her torn neckline and brought it to his lips.

“Trust me, okay?”

He kissed her fingers softly, his lips quelling the tremors in her hand.

“Now, Vivi.”

His dark eyes flashed with a fierce light.

“Who did this?”

His gaze dropped to her torn neckline, sending a shiver down her spine.