Grace in Wonderland - Chapter 120

120. Escape from Sodom

“We’ve finally arrived!”

Viscount Lovelace, overcome with emotion, rubbed his face with his palms before looking out at the harbor. Then, he turned his fierce glare toward Grace, who sat stubbornly and silently.

“Still wearing that look like you’re ready to drop dead with displeasure.”

“……”

“Stop your foolish delusions. After a week of this, you should have realized it by now. The Spencer family isn’t coming for you.”

Even Viscount Lovelace finally felt a sense of relief. Throughout the journey, he had been gripped with fear that Richard Spencer might suddenly appear with his fiery red mane and rip him to shreds.

The reason they had come to a docking point rather than a departure port was to board the ship as soon as they arrived. Most passengers boarded at the departure point, which meant longer boarding times and a higher risk of being caught. This location was Ingrint’s final docking point for passenger ships bound for Aire. Consequently, there were very few people boarding here.

Once they quickly boarded the ship, all the worries and fears Viscount Lovelace had carried would finally come to an end.

“Both of you should change your clothes. I’ll go handle the boarding paperwork.”

The coachman opened the door, smiling faintly, and handed two bundles to the Viscount. The clothes Grace and Viscount Lovelace were wearing were far too conspicuous, especially Grace’s dress.

Though it had grown shabby and worn after the long journey, Grace’s dress was made of fine silk and organza, with a petticoat intricately adorned with lace. Boarding the ship in such a ball gown would inevitably draw the attention of other passengers.

That was something they absolutely couldn’t afford. They needed to slip unnoticed into their cabin and remain confined there for several days until the opportune moment arrived—the moment when the sea would claim them.

“How do you expect me to wear this?!”

Viscount Lovelace scowled deeply as he looked at the plain, modest clothing in the bundle. His irritation boiled over at the sight of garments that commoners might wear—simple and unremarkable.

The coachman had hurriedly selected the clothes from a shop near the harbor, and they were far from the Viscount’s standards. They weren’t even new.

Viscount Lovelace, who once wore tattered coats and patched trousers during his destitute days, now dreamed of walking confidently into a first-class cabin under a false name, attending onboard balls, and pretending to be a wealthy businessman. Those dreams were now dashed.

“It’s my master’s orders.”

The coachman, who had been unfailingly polite throughout the journey, spoke with a sudden chill in his tone. Startled by the drastic shift, the viscount hesitated. However, unwilling to disappoint the countess, he reluctantly agreed.

“…Very well.”

Grumbling under his breath, Viscount Lovelace accepted the bundle. The coachman, his smile returning, closed the door and headed toward the harbor’s administrative office.

“Grace, change your clothes.”

“……”

Grace opened the bundle tossed onto her lap. Inside, she found a drab, gray dress carelessly crumpled. Tears welled up as she realized how far she’d fallen.

The violet-shaped ornaments from her dress were likely scattered in the mud by now. Even the dress Richard Spencer had given her had to be discarded.

A midsummer night’s dream—a fleeting enchantment woven with violets—had ended. Her future, like the dull, gray dress before her, was bleak and colorless. The sun, which illuminated the tangible world, no longer shone upon her.

“H-here? In the c-carriage?”

“Don’t even think about stepping outside.”

“W-what about you, Viscount?”

“I’ll also…”

Viscount Lovelace trailed off, his words catching in his throat. Despite being her uncle, they were still a man and a woman. Grace was no longer a child, and as nobles, it was unthinkable for them to change clothes in the same confined space.

He cleared his throat awkwardly. But then, a thought crossed his mind. Only a few decades ago, royal families had sanctioned marriages between uncles and nieces. Why not follow such a precedent?

Rather than marrying her off to some nobody in Aire… perhaps it would be better to stay close, to rely on each other in an unfamiliar land. Marriage, after all, wasn’t so complicated. He had been married once before; it was simply a matter of living together and adjusting to one another.

Grace was already an adult woman. It wasn’t as though he was considering something inappropriate with a minor. Why hadn’t he thought of this sooner? His brown eyes gleamed dangerously.

“Grace.”

Viscount Lovelace called her name, his voice oily with intent. At the same moment, Grace slightly lifted her skirt hem.

***

As Sebastian arrived at the harbor with only one remaining soldier, the first thing he saw was a petite woman in a violet dress leaping out of a carriage.

“Lady Montague! My lady!”

Sebastian dismounted his horse and charged toward her, shouting at the top of his lungs. But his worn-out body, barely hanging onto the horse like a sack of flour, refused to cooperate.

“Search that carriage! Now!”

He barked at the soldier still mounted. Without hesitation, the soldier followed Sebastian’s urgent orders.

Reaching the carriage in no time, the soldier swallowed hard and yanked open the half-ajar carriage door. Upon witnessing the scene inside, his mouth fell open, and a look of horror washed over his face. With a mix of relief and unease, he lowered the sword he had been gripping.

The interior of the carriage was utter chaos. Blood from Viscount Lovelace splattered across the walls in every direction. Lowering his gaze, the soldier saw the Viscount curled into a ball, writhing on the floor like a worm.

The soldier instinctively made the sign of the cross after assessing the Viscount’s condition. Seeing a fellow man emasculated left him with an indescribable array of emotions.

“Grace.”

“W-why are you doing this?”

When Viscount Lovelace called her name with a disgusting glint in his eyes, Grace tilted her upper body slightly, lifting the hem of her skirt to pick up her shoes that lay at her feet.

Who would have thought the high heels she had worn to attend the masquerade would prove this useful? When Freya Spencer had personally chosen the pair for her, she had only felt dizzy at the sight of them.

If I make it back alive, I’ll forgive Freya for abandoning me at the Devonshire estate. And I’ll pretend I didn’t see her arguing with some man.

In desperate moments, humans tend to imagine absurd scenarios. They say that when one is about to die, past memories flash before their eyes like a film reel. Grace couldn’t help but think about that, even as she found the thought absurd.

“When we reach Aire, we will be husband and wife.”

“Y-you’re insane…”

“You wouldn’t want to live with a complete stranger either, would you?”

Just as Viscount Lovelace reached to place a hand on Grace’s shoulder, she gripped her shoe tighter behind her skirt.

The heel of the shoe was sharply tapered at the bottom. With its height and shape, she figured she could at least break Viscount Lovelace’s nose if she struck hard enough.

One blow wouldn’t suffice. After breaking his nose, she planned to target his jaw or cheekbones next…

Impact energy measures the force generated when two objects collide. The sharp heel of Grace’s shoe not only inflicted physical damage on Viscount Lovelace’s nose and cheekbone but also delivered a psychological shock to his depraved state of mind, weakened by lecherous fantasies.

Impact breeds recoil. As Viscount Lovelace reeled, he attempted to grab Grace’s hair. But Grace quickly stood, slipped her foot into the shoe she had prepared, and stomped down hard on the Viscount’s foot.

Screaming in pain, Viscount Lovelace crumpled to the floor of the carriage. As Grace rose to her feet, she “accidentally” stepped multiple times on his most vulnerable area before escaping the carriage.

Though it was “accidental” that she stepped with the shoe she happened to be wearing, the Viscount’s cries ceased entirely. Like divine judgment unleashing fiery destruction upon Sodom, his metaphorical “fireball” also met its end.

At last, Grace escaped the carriage, a vessel of sin and corruption. She discarded her remaining shoe and bolted in the opposite direction of the administrative office. However, when someone called her name from behind, her body froze, and her blood rushed faster through her veins.

I must not be caught.

Thus began a desperate game of tag between Grace and Sebastian. The barefoot Grace, having narrowly escaped the jaws of death, didn’t have the luxury of identifying the voice behind her. She avoided looking back, unwilling to risk becoming a pillar of salt like Lot’s wife.

If only Sebastian had been faster. Unfortunately, his legs, refined through years of intellectual pursuits, were far from suited for physical exertion. Chasing the nimble Grace, who darted like a squirrel, left Sebastian gasping for air and on the verge of collapse.

“M-my lady, p-please don’t…”

The metallic taste of blood filled Sebastian’s mouth. Watching Grace deftly dodge the cargo scattered across the harbor, Sebastian accidentally collapsed to his knees, slamming them against the ground. The impact made it feel as if his kneecaps had shattered.

Was this the end? Would he lose her now?

Gritting his teeth, Sebastian recalled the grueling week he had endured. Just as the ancient tale of a young man running 46,145 yards to deliver news of victory had been immortalized in history, Sebastian hoped the history books of the Spencer family would at least mention his ordeal.

And so, he rose again. His chest felt like it was going to burst. Whether it was from the exertion or the thought of his name being recorded in the Spencer family history, he wasn’t sure.

Then, at that moment of human triumph, he noticed Grace slowing her pace. Frowning in confusion, he watched her carefully. A short while later, Grace came to a complete stop.