Grace in Wonderland - Chapter 102

102. Primordial Chaos

In the beginning, there was chaos. That chaos was covered in darkness.

When Richard Spencer, who had lost consciousness, opened his eyes, his vision was engulfed in darkness. His face was wrapped in something, making each exhalation hot and humid.

The back of his head throbbed painfully. As he tried to recall what had happened to him, he clenched his lips tightly. His teeth ground audibly.

As soon as he had turned his back after mercilessly stomping on that worm Theresius, a stinging sensation hit the back of his head. He remembered nothing after that.

Theresius—that bastard—must have struck him on the head with something. Tried to kill me!

Theresius Wilford was no fool; he knew that the assassination of a great nobleman warranted harsher punishment. Wasn’t he a graduate of the King’s College law department?

It’s worse to commit evil knowingly than ignorantly. Soon, Theresius would experience firsthand, in the most brutal way, what happens when you do bad things. It would be a misfortune far worse than not receiving Christmas presents.

Richard furrowed his brows deeply. He tried to lift his hand to check his injury.

His hand wouldn’t move easily. He forced his fingers to bend, then froze in shock.

Shouldn’t the tips of his fingers touch his palm when he made a fist? Was it an injury that dulled his sense of touch?

The sensation against his hand was suspiciously soft. It was something he had never touched before in his life. Perhaps it wasn’t even an object.

Clearly, getting hit on the head had affected his mind. Because Richard Spencer found himself thinking the sensation against his fingers felt quite pleasant.

And strangely, he felt as though he was holding something. Something small, warm, and soft that moved rhythmically. Following its movements, Richard’s chest alternated between warmth and coolness.

Then it must be breathing. Something alive was close. No, it was pressed right against him.

Richard Spencer, as if saying, “Let there be light,” carefully pulled down the fabric covering his eyes. And there was light. The sudden brightness was truly blinding to him.

Squinting, he slowly turned his head. The musty smell typical of confined spaces hit his nose. Seven-colored rays of light, seeping in from outside, faintly illuminated the interior of the cave.

A cave?

Did Theresius Wilford move me? No, that bastard wouldn’t have. He would have abandoned me somewhere, not brought me here.

Then who is this person showing the top of their head beneath my chin? Their head is small, with wet, curly brown hair that falls in long waves.

Then… a woman. A woman?

Richard cautiously lowered his head to confirm the woman’s identity, only to be shocked. Before he could, he caught sight of his own bare upper body.

Untouched snow on a mountain peak, a flower on a cliff despaired. What in the world happened to me?

Who is the bold woman who dared ruin my pristine snowfield and pluck my unbloomed flower bud? Richard pulled his body back to get a clearer look at the sleeping woman’s face. He bent his head as far as possible and examined her closed eyes.

“……”

His eyes, like glass panes shaking against the wind, trembled violently. It felt like a gale from the distant New World, having gathered strength while crossing the ocean, had struck the window frame squarely.

Why is Grace Gurton here? Why am I undressed? And why is Grace Gurton only in her undergarments…

Could we have?

Richard Spencer urgently checked his lower body. Thankfully, his pants were still on. Thankfully. What a relief. Was it a relief?

Then why is Grace Gurton in her undergarments? What happened to her dress?

His head throbbed sharply. As the pain intensified, his eyes kept shutting. At such a crucial moment. He needed to ask what had happened…

Though there was light, Richard remained in a state of primordial chaos. He pulled the fabric back over his head. Darkness returned.

Even in his semi-conscious state, Richard Spencer shifted his body closer to hers, groaning softly as he moved. When he felt the soft and pleasant sensation under his fingers, the corner of his mouth curled upward slightly.

***

I’ve lost it. Completely.

Grace Gurton was racking her brain, trying to figure out how to discreetly and naturally get up and leave the cave without being noticed.

Falling asleep here? Really, Grace Gurton?

Grace was startled by the hammering heartbeat resounding from her cheek. As she blinked repeatedly to process her situation, her now-focused vision caught sight of something solid and white. It looked like a wall—a white, thumping wall.

Could such a thing exist in this world? Without much thought, Grace pressed her cheek against the wall and rubbed it. The warm, white wall thumped rhythmically.

Wow, a warm, thumping white wall. Incredible.

“W-what in the world…” she muttered, her lips slightly moving. At that moment, the wall flinched.

It moved? Walls can move?

Grace Gurton’s logical and mathematical brain kicked into gear. Of course, there couldn’t be a wall like that in reality!

…This is Richard Spencer. Not his back, but his chest.

From that realization onward, Grace Gurton closed her eyes and began to recognize her state. Her face was pressed against his solid chest, her hand rested somewhere along his firm waist, and one of her legs was wedged between his stone-like thighs. Wait a second, what is this other leg that’s not mine…?

Aaaahhh!

How could she escape this without waking Richard Spencer? First, she’d have to remove the large arm draped over her. But his arm was so heavy…

His heart was beating steadily, and his body temperature wasn’t too low anymore. There was no reason to stay this close. She needed to get out of this awkward position immediately. But to do that, she’d have to move his arm, and moving it might wake him.

If Richard Spencer woke up, he’d see Grace Gurton nestled against him in nothing but her undergarments. Sure, she had hurriedly removed her dress in an emergency, but she should have thought through what might come next.

Professor Charles Dodgson always warned against diving straight into solving problem #1 on an exam without first assessing your abilities. His advice was truly gospel. It was practically prophetic.

If only I had evaluated my capabilities first. Rushing into this, I didn’t realize it would lead to such an unsolvable problem.

I want to die.

If I died here, at least I wouldn’t have to face this mess. But then, the newspaper headline would probably read: “Unmarried woman found dead in a man’s arms, wearing only her undergarments. Cause of death: heart attack from sheer delight.”

Grace carefully lifted the dress covering her face. Sunlight was streaming into the cave from outside.

She cautiously raised her head to check on Richard’s face. To her disbelief, he looked peaceful.

If Richard had been tossing and turning all night, she would have felt it. Fortunately, the wound on his head didn’t seem to be too severe. Still, he needed to see a doctor for confirmation.

For Richard Spencer to see a doctor, he needed to wake up. If he woke up, he’d see Grace Gurton lying there in her undergarments.

Life is like a path through the forest. As you walk, you encounter countless forks in the road and must choose a direction. Sometimes the choice is random; other times, it’s deliberate. People decide which way to turn.

Some paths may split endlessly, but they all lead to the same endpoint. That’s the situation now. Whether the choice was random or careful, it all ends with Richard Spencer seeing Grace Gurton, half-dressed, lying by his side.

No matter which path you take, it’s a cliff!

If Grace Gurton had even the slightest artistic temperament, she might have showcased her recklessness by diving off that cliff. But she was a woman with a logical and mathematical mind, someone who preferred to cling to reality.

Thus, Grace decided not to walk any path at all. She buried her head in the cave’s darkness and refrained from moving forward.

She pulled her dress back over her head and forced herself to sleep. She told herself the paths could wait until she woke up. Or, better yet, Richard Spencer could wake up and walk the path for her.

She pulled the dress over her head and forced herself to sleep, trusting that the stroll along the forest path would be something she could manage after some rest—or better yet, that Richard Spencer would wake and take her place.